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Mountaintop Miracle
Part 2
My cousin later sent money to them for my clothes and the ticket, but they returned it, saying that they felt privileged to be able to help me and that they would not accept any payment.
I arrived in New York two days before Christmas in 1937. My experience there without knowledge of English and without money is another story, but through it all God was always with me and I knew things would work out--and they did. As soon as I arrived in America, I wrote my Austrian friends and thanked them again, for they had literally saved my life.
But the story does not end there. After Hitler marched into Austria in March of 1938, no more contact was possible. But I knew that my friends were subject to as much trouble and deprivation as we had in Germany. I had found employment working for a wealthy family, so, as soon as I could afford it, I went to the CARE office where one could send food packages to Europe, and I sent a package to my Austrian friends. Often I had to use my last dollar and did not have bus fare, so I had to walk for quite some distance, but I knew I was doing the right thing and continued to do so every week--for seven years--until August of 1945, when the war ended and I knew the Allied forces would assist my friends if they were still there.
Some European friends in New York said it was foolish of me to mail items because my packages would never reach these people and I was only feeding the Nazis. My newfound American friends said that I needed the money for myself and could ill afford my weekly gifts, and that I should stop that foolishness. But an English author once wrote that "You and God constitute a majority," so I did not ask for anyone's approval but did what I knew I had to do. I was and am convinced that you reap what you sow and, if you help someone, when the time comes that you need help yourself, help will surely come, maybe from the most unexpected source, but you can count on it.
God works in mysterious ways, indeed. In 1949, just twelve years after I had left that Austrian farmhouse, a New York travel agency asked me to guide a group of teachers and students on a trip through Europe because of my knowledge of these countries and their languages. First, we were going to a summer school in Mayerhofen, then on to Innsbruck, the music festival in Salzburg, etc. I said I would accept the assignment under one condition: that I would get a day off in Innsbruck to look for my friends in that old farmhouse. The request was granted, but when we reached Innsbruck, we were surprised at the destruction caused by the war, which made my objective seem impossible--rail tracks were not yet fully repaired, buses stood idle in the depots because there was no gasoline, and many roads were still impassable.
But God is always present and can always be called on for help. This time, help came in the person of an American army colonel stationed in Innsbruck who offered me his jeep for the day with enough gasoline to make my intended trip. I had never driven a jeep and certainly not over rough mountain roads, but I accepted the colonel's offer gratefully and was glad that one of my travel companions offered to come along.
Although looking for an isolated farmhouse, not a village, I was sure I could find the way. Suddenly, at the turn of a road, I stopped. My friend was startled. What was the matter? I was sure this was the place, but it did not look at all like the house I remembered. My friend suggested we knock at the door. Maybe the owners could give us some information about that family. And so we did. A nice-looking young man answered with his young wife and two small children at his side. I recognized him at once, even after twelve years, as the boy who had blown the alpenhorn that saved my life. Of course, I had changed a lot but after I told him my name, he gave me a big Austrian bear hug, then turned to his wife and said, "You know who this is? This is the mountain ghost." She had heard the story so often that she welcomed us cordially into the house.
Sitting in their living room, he explained the strange surroundings. When the Nazis invaded Austria, they drove away their cattle, took all their provisions, and burned their house to the ground. There were enemy lines all around--they could not even get to the nearest village, so they were completely isolated. There they sat in the ashes of their home, stunned and unable to think what to do. But through an arrangement with the International Red Cross--and I have told this story personally at their headquarters in Geneva--the next morning, the mailman stomped through all the debris and brought them my first CARE package. The father was a very cautious man and he told his family not to eat too much, as they might not have anything else for some time to come. But the mother was a woman of great faith and she told them just to give thanks, as she was sure there would be other packages coming from me.
The young man's parents had since died, probably because of the hardships they endured, and his sister had married and moved away. But for seven years, all this family had to eat came in those CARE packages. I truly feel that God had used me as an instrument to save these people's lives as they had indeed saved mine.
I believe that real religion is much more an experience of God than a belief about God. I also believe that your life today may be guided by the Christ. Your problems may be solved by His wisdom. Your weakness may be turned into strength by His help. Your struggles may become victories by His grace. And your sorrows may be turned into joy by His comfort.
This article was adapted from "Mountaintop Miracle," which appeared in the January/February, 2000, issue of Venture Inward.
The author is a retired professor of foreign languages at Old Dominion University and has written two books, They Call it Courage and How to Live Creatively.
The Story of Alfred Porsche
The Story of Kurt Stebner
The Story of Alma Gerstenkorn
Memoirs of World War II German Military Personnel
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