The Van Buurens’ house, located in a quiet street in Brunssum, is recognisable from afar thanks to the Israeli flag flying proudly from the flagpole. Initially, the flag was placed on a bench in the front garden, but after a torn one was found, Sophia decided to hang the flag on the flagpole. When someone expressed reservations about the flag at the front door, Sophia and Ronald stood firm in their position.
‘Have you been to Israel?’ they asked. “We have experienced Israel from the inside, and we know what we stand for and why we do what we do.” A neighbour even called to report that he had noted the number plate of the car belonging to the intruder who had damaged the flag and had taken a photo of it as evidence.
The support of the Jewish community in Brunssum is not a new phenomenon. Ronald proudly recounted that during the Second World War, hundreds of people were hidden in the area, and not a single one was betrayed. In September 1944, after the liberation of Brunssum, a rabbi came to the town to hold a service; he was able to use a Protestant church, where a Torah scroll had been borrowed from Maastricht. The minyan consisted of survivors, including Ronald’s parents, who had been in hiding in the neighbourhood – his father had spent more than two years hidden in the mines.
Sophia, born in post-war Amsterdam, is also a child of people who went into hiding. She spent her childhood in the Pijp, in an environment that was anything but friendly. As a five-year-old child, she heard: ‘They forgot to gas you.’ She and her sisters were not welcome at school; the headmaster advised Sophia’s mother to take the children out of school, which led Sophia to the Jewish primary school Rosj Pina.
The family with whom Sophia’s mother had gone into hiding always maintained a warm relationship with them. When Sophia and Ronald were guests at a Catholic wedding and looked for a place at the back of the church, they were told, ‘The family belongs together,’ and were invited to sit at the front. When a child was born, people asked if Sophia could be addressed as grandmother, to which she replied, ‘Then you have a grandfather too.’ Today, Sophia and Ronald have two grandchildren in Brunssum, as well as bonus grandchildren in Barneveld and even a bonus grandchild in Israel. This special relationship, which began as a request for help from a family member in a difficult time, has grown into a close and meaningful bond.
In Sophia and Ronald’s lives, a one-off request for help has often had far-reaching consequences. You can read their full story in the next newsletter.
