Tato Condensed Part II of II
“He would not blame a group of people for the treatment done by individuals.”
Please refer to last week’s column for “Tato Condensed Part I of II.”
In his twenties, Tato was now a prisoner in Germany. One day, a German uniform was tossed his way. With the slap of the clothing laid bare before him, he had no choice but to take what had been handed him. Why would a Ukrainian be given a German uniform? Long story short, somebody had to dig entrenchments for the German army as they were quickly running out of able-bodied men. Tato was chosen, and with no training and no weapon, he was sent to the western front.
While digging ditches, he was struck in the head with shrapnel and critically wounded he fell. The final six months of not only the war but his captivity, found him in a field hospital. The shrapnel embedded within would remain inoperably close to his brain for the rest of his life.
The next four years Tato was held in a displaced person’s camp while awaiting immigration to the United Sates. He couldn’t’ go back home to Ukraine as the Soviets who were now the occupiers of his homeland, were sentencing former German slaves to seven years in a Siberian Gulag (forced labor camp). Why would someone like Tato be punished as a criminal for basically staying alive? Tato would have been punished by the Soviets, the occupiers of Ukraine, for failing to die. He would have been held captive once again merely because he had been a captive of the German army and a slave on their behalf.
Miraculously, he managed to make contact with his family although the letters were censored. Soon, those letters stopped as his family’s safety was in jeopardy because of the contact. Never again did he hear from them.
Although his skeletal frame appeared delicate, his spirit remained. Rather than roam with the gangs in the camp, Tato set his sights higher. Taking any job he could gave rise to hope. Repairing shoes was one job. Selling his red-cross cigarettes and chocolate was another.
In 1949 he received the news. He would soon be entering the United States. With one dollar in his pocket, a third grade education, undiagnosed and untreated PTSD, no knowledge of the language and no friends, he entered.
His first job secured in country was a familiar one. He would be tending sheep. Taking the train to Nebraska, he soon discovered he was to care a herd of sheep within a two state area. Between Nebraska and Wyoming he went keeping track of over one million head of sheep. In his covered wagon with one gun, one dog, and chest high snow, he made it until spring before heading to Omaha in order to secure different work.
What did Tato do when he wasn’t working? He helped. He helped by giving away hard earned money to people and causes needing it more than he. He helped found, renovate and expand a church. Hand carving the wooden altar where the consecration of the Holy Eucharist has daily taken place since then, are a few gifts he would give to his new found country.
How did Tato respond to the world and individuals he met along the way? He responded in kind by being kind. With dignity he saw the face of Christ in all. He worked with Poles and had lifelong Polish friends. He married a German girl and was thankful for the kindness shown him by one of his German captors during the war. So thankful was he that he traveled back to Germany to thank the man’s widow four decades later.
He had plenty to be bitter about but chose not to deflect blame onto others. Even though he had incurred cruelty, hatred, bigotry, and degradation, he would not blame a group of people for the treatment done by individuals. That was the deeply embedded wisdom he’d gained.
Life had been unfair, but never did he stop praying or believing God would hear those prayers. “What you are, a Communist now?” could be heard from Tato if one would sit at the table of grace and forget to bow one’s head in prayer.
He never let betrayals derail his attitude towards mankind. Tato knelt each night in prayer; and because he did, the only thing he found unacceptable in life was when others would not take time to acknowledge the God whom he not only loved but personally knew.
Tato, a great and imperfect man, died loving his Ukrainian homeland but he considered America the greatest country on earth. If he could make it, then anyone could. At the age of 85 he bravely faced his death with his wife and children by his side.
May we be stewards of your lessons learned Tato, and may we live them out with as much grace. Amen.
