“Appreciate everything of what you have, because you know that it will never be taken away from you.”
These wise words came from the mouth of my mother, Norma Assis, born in Beirut, Lebanon, on July 16th, 1958 but raised in many countries throughout the world. My mother, a first generation immigrant of the United States, gives over her story of a long and interesting life filled with constant moving, religious hardship and lessons that she loves to give over to her children. Throughout my life, my mother makes sure to rebuke my sisters and I every time that we try to complain about school, work, or friends, telling us that we don’t know how lucky we are to have the religious freedom offered in the United States, explaining to us that we should appreciate the ability to walk the streets as a Jew without any fear. She always tells us to appreciate our friends, our home, and our loved ones because “you never know when you will have to say goodbye. With the help of God, you should never know.”
Norma reminisces about her early childhood in the Hamra province of Lebanon, giving over details of her wealthy lifestyle, filled with maids, nannies, and designer clothing. Her father, the owner of a huge cotton import/export business, was a very tough man, raising his children in a very sheltered but opulent existence. While my mother grew up in a very tight-knit Jewish community in which she attended school in Alyance Frances school of Lebanon, her close friends were of Christian and Muslim descent. It wasn’t until she was in her teens that she understood the tension that began to escalate in Lebanon, the land she calls paradise. Little did she know, civil war would soon destroy her little section of Eden as well as change the course of her life.
The above Images consist of Wadi Abou Jamil, Beirut and Congregation Maghen Abraham in its current ruins, what was once the Lebanese Jewish Community’s center for prayer, education, refugee, and community get-togethers events.
Four decades ago, in April of 1975, the Lebanese civil war broke out. Phalangist gunmen ambushed a bus in the Ayn-al-Rummanah district of Beirut, killing 27 of its mainly Palestinian passengers. The Phalangists, the most important force within the Christian camp, claim that Islamic guerrillas had previously attacked a church in the same district. These clashes then start the Lebanese civil war. The conflict, which lasted 15 years, cost 150,000 lives, injured 300,000, and led to the emigration of almost a million people. My mother’s family, along with the overwhelming majority of her Jewish community in Wadi Abou Jamil, were included in this emigration.
A woman cries in shock, minutes after a car bomb exploded in a crowded neighborhood of mainly-Moslem West Beirut, killing 13 people, including three children, and injuring at least 92. The Lebanese civil war broke out in April 1975. 
My mother rarely speaks about her bad times in Lebanon, withholding the dramatic moments in which she came so close to murder and violence. She shared that her synagogue was the place in which her father and other community leaders were able to hide refugees escaping from the hardships of Aleppo, Syria. The names that she told me shocked me as I have met so many of these people throughout my life, all of which took refuge through my grandpa until they were able to forge documents. She explains that “it’s so hard to think about it again. Those stories take away from the good memories and make me forget what I really had.”
Norma’s father, along with many other Jews, did not want to wait for the war to fully breakout. She tells of the day that her father came in with his Muslim business partner, awakening the family in the middle of the night for a sudden, but strategic escape. After many weeks of carefully planning, Norma recalls that the plans were suddenly accelerated:
“I remember that night like it was yesterday. I wasn’t really ready to go. We thought that the pickup would be on Sunday but after Grandpa heard of an approaching militia, he got nervous and decided to leave that night.”
While many people tell stories of escaping through rivers, mud, and border control, my mother was lucky enough to escape through a chartered flight, taking off without government approval. She, along with all of her family members were concealed in the hidden floor of a hay truck, making their way to a safe area where they were able to transfer into a gunned escort in order to reach the airport, passing security with forged documents, in route to the safety of Cyprus.
Aerial View of bombing in Beirut, Lebanon. -1980
The Paradise of Beirut, Lebanon. -2015
“Even though I lost my friends, my home, and my favorite place in the world, I thank God every day for my father and his quick mind. He kept my family safe and always took care of us. In France, he found us a beautiful home and put us in school. When France wasn’t good enough for him anymore, he moved us to Israel. We then tried going back to Beirut once everything became calm. Beirut wasn’t good so we flew to Italy. He always tried his best to make us happy.”
Image of Yecheziel Schrem and Tùne Schrem walking my aunt down the Aisle. -2002
The only portrait of my mother’s entire family as one. My mother was photoshopped into it. She was in New York during the time of capture in São Paulo, Brasil.
While all of these moves were the best choice for her family at the time, my mother found it hard to say goodbye to the life she just worked to build. Throughout her father’s entire life, the family lived in affluence and extreme comfort. However, after finally making their way to Brasil, Yecheziel Schrem invested wrongly into the coffee business in his attempt to expand the family wealth. Instead, these moves caused the Schrem family to lose almost everything that they had, sending the family into disarray. Luckily, my mother was already married and living in America, explaining that she is so happy for her choice to move to the United States because it would’ve been too hard for her if she was present to witness her father during the times in which he lost everything. My mother’s family members have not been in the same country at once since 1998. Currently, two of her sisters live in Milan, Italy while her two sisters, along with her only living brother, live in São Paulo, Brasil. My grandpa passed away in April of 2003 and my grandmother passed away in March of 2015. I have never met my grandfather and was only able to see my grandmother once, right before she fell sick to complete immune system failure.
“I miss my parents. They always made sure I had the best of the best and I wish you were able to learn from them as much as I did. We will always have problems and we all had hard lives. I hope you never forget to sit down and think that even though it isn’t easy sometimes, appreciate everything of what you have, because you know that it will never be taken away from you.”
My mother sometimes laments for her old life. She considers my siblings and I as spoiled when we complain, always rebuking us with the words: “if only you knew what hard means.” The irony lies within the fact that she grew up with a “silver spoon” in her mouth. My mother came to America for a wedding and ended up meeting my father and marrying him. The funny thing is that although she spoke five languages fluently, while my father spoke two, none of them overlapped. They communicated using hand gestures and broken language to the best of their ability but she explains that it was genuinely true love. Norma Schrem came for just three days and since then, Norma Assis has lived in the land of the free for thirty-three years. She claims that she learned to speak and read English by watching Sesame Street with her oldest child. Although she grew up like a princess, times changed and by willing to work hard and learn another language, she was able to raise children who all attended college, loving their country and working their hardest to succeed. If she was ever offered the chance to visit Beirut safely again, she wouldn’t know if it would be the right thing to do, as she knows that it has changed so much and she would cry from just landing to find nothing of her past left to see: “It’s better if I don’t know what’s there Jimmy, because I remember what I need to.” She appreciates each day and thanks G-d for her experiences and trials. That suffering was the path that led her to the life she has today. She has always instilled that appreciation into her kids, and therefore our family lives by her following quote:
“It isn’t just what you have, but it is the path that you took to get there.”
Bibliography:
European Union Institute for Security Studies:
http://www.iss.europa.eu/uploads/media/Alert_21_Lebanon_civil_war.pdf
BBC News:
http://www.bbc.com/news/world-middle-east-14649284
Google Maps:
https://www.google.com/maps/place/Wadi+Abou+Jmiel,+Lebanon/@33.9034219,35.4902693,15.46z/data=!4m5!3m4!1s0x151f16ddfb70f211:0x2baa5c52fdf9a45b!8m2!3d33.8974825!4d35.4994205
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