My Art Saves Story • by Wanda Eash

A Lineage of Strong & Courageous Women
Have you ever heard of the saying, “The apple didn’t fall far from the tree?” That’s how I feel when comparing myself to my mother and grandmother. Although we are totally different individuals, I credit both my mother and grandmother with giving me my sense of strength, faith, and courage. They are both — in my eyes — shining examples of hanging in there when times get tough, and always persevering in the face of adversity.

My Grandmother, Maria Gwizdala — The Early Years
My grandmother, whom I call “Oma,” was born in Germany in 1919. Her family was very poor, so poor that one of her only toys as a child was a ball that she made from rubber bands. When she was growing up, her mother was very sickly with a heart ailment. This resulted in Oma and her sister being sent to an orphanage for several years until they were teenagers, as their father was unable to care for them.

After my grandmother and her sister returned home, they helped care for their mother, who was bedridden during the last years of her life. One year, Oma and her sister decided to surprise their mother by sewing a collection of kitchen towels, curtains, chair covers, place mats, and the like for their home. They had planned to give her their creations for Christmas that year. Unfortunately, this was not to be, as their mother passed away on Christmas Eve.

As a young woman, Oma’s first real love was a man named Sigmund. Sigmund was very handsome, charming, and popular with all of the girls. He and my grandmother became engaged to be married shortly before Sigmund left to fight in World War II, but their relationship was not meant to be. Sigmund passed away during the war when his plane was shot down. My grandmother was inconsolable at that time. She felt that life was never going to be the same without her beloved Sigmund. Never say never. My grandfather, Anton Gwizdala (whom I call “Opa”), happened to be my grandmother’s neighbor, and was quite literally “the boy next door.” Opa and Oma had known each other for many years; he said he knew he loved her the first time he saw her. After Sigmund’s death, Opa proposed to Oma. She told me that she felt dead inside after Sigmund’s passing, and although she always liked my grandfather, she didn’t feel any sparks for him ... at first. Oma and Opa married on November 14, 1942. They eventually had three children together, the oldest being my mother. My mother was very sickly with anemia as a baby; my grandfather literally walked several miles to the local hospital to donate blood to my mother, saving her life. My grandmother told me she fell head over heels in love with her husband during this time.

A Time of Transition
In 1956, my grandparents decided to move out of war-battered Germany to the United States in order to give their children a better life. They relocated to Chicago, Illinois. Life was not easy for the new immigrants. They were in a strange country and they couldn’t speak or understand English. In those days, there weren’t any programs available to help immigrants. They were quite literally on their own. My grandparents and their children did teach eventually themselves English and gradually became accustomed to their new home in the states.

A Time of Loss & A Startling Revelation
In 1999, I lost my beloved Oma due to complications from diabetes. Even though her last days were spent in suffering in the hospital, she never ceased to amaze me with her courage and her faith. She could hardly speak, but still clung to her rosary beads. Shortly after she passed, I was made aware of a secret my grandmother kept for all of her adult life. That secret was that she was half-Jewish; out of fear during World War II she hid her ethnicity in order to save herself and her children from certain death and torture at the hands of the Nazis. She only confided this information to my mother weeks before she passed.

My Mother — Wanda Tillwach
My mother was a daddy’s girl when she was growing up and a major tomboy in every aspect. As a child, she competed in gymnastics and worn several trophies for her accomplishments. As she developed into a young teenager, though, the calling to religious life became a priority for her. She joined the convent at the age of 13 years old; she had every intention of becoming a nun. She wasn’t far from taking her first vows when she received news that her father, my Opa, was terminally ill with colon cancer.

This proved to be a life-changing event for my mother. Her own mother, my Oma, was not in good health and she could not work to support her family. Her brothers were too young to work, and the youngest of the brothers had Down’s Syndrome. My mother, who was 16 years old, knew she was the only person in her family who could work to support her family. So, she made the selfless decision to leave her dream of becoming a nun behind to go to work and help her family. After three years of living in the convent, my mother joined the working world. In discussing this heart-wrenching decision with her, she told me that she couldn’t live with herself knowing her family was suffering had she stayed in the convent, so it was really the only decision she could make at the time. My Opa passed away in January, 1963.

God apparently had other plans for my mother. Within a year, she met my father, who lived right down the street from her. He would see her walk to work each day and admired her from afar. One day, my mother was upstairs in her bedroom. She had no make-up on and her hair was in curlers. Her brother stood outside near the open bedroom window and yelled for my mother to stick her head out of the window, as he had someone he wanted her to meet. Well, wouldn’t you know it — the person he introduced her to was my father. My mother said she almost died from embarrassment. Well, the rest is history. They fell in love, got married in 1964, and are still together today. They are still the most romantic couple I know. My dad always tells my mother how beautiful she is (even without make-up). They complement each other perfectly.

My Childhood & Foray Into the World of Arts & Crafts
I was born in 1965 in Chicago, Illinois, and raised in a Polish-German-Catholic neighborhood. My earliest experiences with the arts occurred when I was 5 years old. My mother had a friend she met at work who ran a ballet/dance studio out of her converted garage. Her friend saw me dance at a mutual friend’s wedding reception and she thought I had potential. She asked my mother to allow me to attend the Saturday morning ballet classes at her studio. I ended up taking the classes for three years; my dance instructor (who was my mother’s friend’s daughter) was none other than Marilu Henner, who went on to become a famous actress.

In 1973, my parents decided to move our family to Phoenix, Arizona, in order to make a better life for my brothers and me. One day, shortly after moving into our new home, I found a big box of crafting materials in our shed. My mother had apparently belonged to a $1-a-month crafting club. There were numerous craft kits in the box. These caught my interest. I brought several of the kits back into the house. Late at night, when I was supposed to be sleeping, I crafted the night away in my bedroom under the covers, my only light being the flashlight. I’ve had the crafting bug ever since.

In 1985, I married my first husband and had my first child, Joey. In 1988, I was blessed with a second son, Anthony. Marriage was difficult for me, and not at all like I’d imagined it would be. My husband became addicted to drugs; along with the drugs came the lies and the mistrust. I worked hard to be a good mother to my boys while trying to help my husband kick his drug habit. For a few years, things seemed to improve, but it was not to last. In January, 1993, I was six weeks pregnant with my daughter, Brianna. I can remember the day like it was yesterday. It was a Saturday, and I was waiting for my husband to come home from work so we could go shopping for our new baby. Instead, when my husband came home that day he informed me that he was leaving me. He didn’t want the responsibility of raising a family anymore; he wanted to be on his own. (Later on, through my own investigative work, I found out he was having an affair with someone he worked with, but that’s a whole different issue.) In my whole life, this was one of the most difficult times I have ever experienced. I felt like I wanted to die. The only things that kept me going — literally — was my kids, my unborn child, and my craft projects. After I’d put the kids to bed at night, I’d craft the night away. You name it, I’d make it ... ornaments, dolls, jewelry, clothes, polymer clay projects, etc. This really helped me to de-stress and forget about life’s difficulties.

It was around this time that I realized that I could do what I love to do and make a side income from it. I made my daughter a rag doll for her birthday and took it to work to show some friends. One thing led to another — and I had special orders coming out of my ears for dolls. That year, I made several hundreds of dolls, one-by-one, at my sewing machine after the kids were tucked in for the night. My profits from the dolls afforded me the ability to purchase presents for my children at Christmas that year.

Faith & Art Saved Me
Even in difficult times, I always have faith that everything that happens is God’s will. There really is always a rainbow after the storm. In 1999, I married my current husband, Michael. Michael introduced me to the Internet and the world of computer technology. I started selling my handmade faith-based and art jewelry on eBay and on the Internet and have been going strong ever since. One thing led to another, which led to my designs being sold in boutiques and retail outlets across the United States. I have also been fortunate enough to have several of my designs published in books and magazines. I moved to beautiful Northwest Arkansas in 2005. I look forward to what the future holds and I know that regardless of what happens, between my faith and my art, I will persevere.

To learn more about Wanda Eash, visit craftymule.blogspot.com.

Comments

[Threshold Ramps]

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