This day is somewhat bittersweet. Sweet in a sense that 45 years ago I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. Bitter, because I don’t have her anymore. Fourteen years ago she went to her heavenly home!
Eva-Marie Elizabeth was born in Peru. What better place to celebrate her “quinceañera” than in Peru. At the time we were living in Bolivia, but my parents were in Peru so that’s where we went to celebrate her fifteenth birthday. For a Latin American girl that is a great day, the day of coming of age, comparable to “sweet sixteen.”
The day started with a “serenata,” that is a serenade. The students from the Bible Institute my parents had founded were more than happy to come sing for our girl. She was very friendly and had captivated their hearts.
Her best friends, the Torres girls, celebrated with her. And of course her sister Carina. Who could have guessed that Maria Deborah, far right, would one day marry Eva’s grandfather. A few years after my mother died, she became Mrs. Per Anderås. Here is the man, cleaning the leftovers of the cake:
Celebrating with Eva were the children from Home of Hope –Hogar Esperanza– that my parent had opened to house the children whose parents were in jail. Sylvia, seen on the picture below, was in charge of the home.
I’ll finish my reminiscing with a picture of Eva on the dance floor. It was just a fun game we played, and she happened to dance with missionary George Nedrebo. I wonder if he remembers?
As I said, this is a bittersweet day. So many memories come flooding to me. If you have read some of my previous blogs about her, you know she had cystic fibrosis. Her life was a constant struggle with one lung infection after another, but through it all she kept her happy spirit.
She was a “crazy” girl. The days she felt a little better she almost drove us all crazy, because she wanted to pack as much possible in that day.
One of her craziest ideas came when she was in Bolivia visiting her friend Lena. I don’t know what got into these girls, but there came a call. “Mom, I’ve found me an apartment. I want to stay. Please send me $30.000.” Yes, that was my girl! But I loved her to pieces.