Celebrating Life
Advent & Christmas Stories
Daily Life
Love's Counterfeit
Coping with Dementia
Conquering Despair
Encouragement
Religious Understanding
Family Stories
Stories of Friendship
Valentine & Beyond
Marriage Encounter
Healing Music
Promoting Peace
School Days
Social Responsibility
Overcoming Trauma
Traute Klein Background

Healing Hug Guestbook

To send me your own Healing Hug story, email me by clicking on the mailbox graphic.

Webmaster's Bio
Meet Traute Klein, biogardener.

Related Articles

War through the Eyes of a Pacifist

by Traute Klein, AKA biogardener

Being a pacifist in war-time has never been a popular position and requires deep lifelong convictions.

Note: This article was written in the late autumn of 2001.

A Difficult Topic

I have had many requests to express my thoughts on America’s new war as it affects spiritual and emotional health, but I am as lost for answers as my friends. This article is an attempt at coming to terms with yet another war, another assault on innocent children, another assault on a fragile environment. I have never agonized over an article as I have over this one. I have avoided the topic for as long as I could. There are a myriad of people who share my opinions. Many of them have told me that they are afraid to say so. Someone has to stand up for our convictions, so I am preparing myself for a loss of readers and friends. I must speak for what I believe to be right if for no other reason than to encourage my American friends who cannot speak for fear of reprisal from their neighbors.

Another War

September 11, 2001. Terror in America. I was not shocked. I grew up in perilous times. Terror was an integral part of my childhood. Never did I deceive myself into thinking that America would be spared from similar events, but I had been hoping that they would not occur during my lifetime. My parents brought their children to North America in order to get as far away from strife as possible. Whenever the topic of another war came up, I would say, "I hope that the first bomb kills me." I have not changed my mind. Don’t get me wrong. I am not going to commit suicide, but neither do I want to face a second time what I experienced as a child. Whether it was premonition or reasoning I may never know, but I was waiting for a serious attack on the United States when, in the summer of 2001, the American delegation walked out of the peace talks in Europe. It was therefore not the September 11 attack which shocked me. That was inevitable. It was America’s reaction to it which pulled the rug out from under my feet. I cannot understand how any intelligent thinking being can even entertain the thought that more terror would avenge the terror already perpetrated. I expect my opinions to infuriate many people who were not subjected to a childhood of terror as I was. All I can say is that it is not my intention to upset. I prefer to talk about healing, but it is difficult to preach healing when the terror continues unabated.

What’s the use?

In answer to the direct questions asking for my opinion on the war, I have been dancing around the subject, unwilling to express a view which is unpopular to the majority of my readers but which are firmly implanted in my heart. I do not see how I can possibly express my feelings without insulting the apparently prevailing American opinion. I feel paralyzed. I have tried to teach peace all my life and can see no results. My life seems to have been in vain. Even some of my Christian friends are advocating revenge. I have also tried to teach environmentalism by writing and by example. In spite of serious injuries and continuous pain, I have been planting trees to support the health of our planet. Now I see American bombers attacking the environment of the Afghan mountains, destroying the eco-culture forever, creating future floods and famine. "What’s the use?" About a month after the New York terror, after one long hard day of planting more trees and asking myself that question, I rested on my shovel in exhaustion and noticed the most glorious rainbow over the ploughed field to the east while the setting sun spread a warm glow through the trees in the west. I remembered the covenant of God with Noah which was sealed by the symbol of the rainbow:
While the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, and cold and heat, and summer and winter, and day and night shall not cease. (Genesis 8:22)
"Where do I go from here?" I cried out, and the answer came to me in another verse which I remembered from the parable of the talents:
Occupy till I come. (Luke 19:13)
I take that to mean: "Keep on slugging away regardless of what is happening in the world." It is easier said than done.

The Results of Revenge

I realize that a people who have never witnessed war on their own soil in their own lifetime have no comprehension of the trauma being inflicted on the children of Afghanistan who will bear the scars of war for the rest of their lives, just as I am bearing the scars of World War II. I have always envied the fortunate ones who were delivered from the trauma by a merciful death. Health care workers who have returned to Canada from Afghanistan in late 2001, warned us that 100,000 Afghan children would die of starvation and exposure in the winter of 2001-02. I expect that many of their parents thanked God for delivering their children from a pitiful existence just as German parents did 57 years ago.

The New Testament Response

I would, however, not switch places with anyone born in America. I thank God for the life path which he assigned to me. It is what makes me who I am, and it distinguishes me from most North Americans in two ways:
1. It gives me a compassion for the hurting, including for the terrorists who are true to their convictions. I do not approve of their methods, but I understand their frustration.
2. It gives me an appreciation of peace, an appreciation which is born out of the despair of war. It makes me look past the trivialities of life to strive for eternal goals.
I was brought up with the principles of the teachings of Jesus who requires us to love our enemies. My mother taught me to pray for Hitler, the man who persecuted her husband and forced her sons and brothers to kill. She taught us to pray for the Russian soldiers who raped our friends and murdered innocent civilians right in front of our eyes. She did not teach me to pray for the British pilots who shot at me from spitfires, because I never shared those stories with her. She had enough other enemies to pray for. I did not want to add to the load. I am praying for the terrorists daily. Are you?



The Effects of War on Emotional Health

Especially on children, scarring them for the rest of their lives. War through the Eyes of a Child
Kelly Scheufler’s account of my family’s experience as World War II refugees as seen through the eyes of a little girl.
Family Ties versus the Good Life
War requires tough decisions of parents. What is more important for a child's mental health, the safety of freedom or the love of family?
Kosovo Refugees, Memories of 1945
War is war, and who cares who is right or wrong when you are a little girl.
Email from Belgrade, Memories of 1945
A new generation, a new war, the same horrors.
The Lesson I Learned from my Grandfather
My grandfather mesmerized me with his chanted stories, and he taught me the power of forgiveness.
Lessons I Learned from my Father
My father’s steady hand led me through the horrors of death and destruction.
Perfect Love Casts out Fear
The sound which I associated with wartime trauma evoked lifelong fear until I was delivered from it through the power of love.
Fresh Air for Elizabeth
A little girl forced to hide in the sanctity of a Winnipeg church brings back memories of another little girl who, half a century ago, cherished her freedom more than her life.
Comfort ye . . .
Where do you derive comfort in perilous times when the rug is pulled out from under your feet? We all need an anchor which will hold us from drifting into the depth of despair.
O Canada, our home and native land?
The dilemma of trying to be a good Canadian without denying your native culture. If you want to understand what it feels like to be an immigrant, you will want to read this article.