Rasa Ardys-Juska, Editor

Perspectives

It was during the cold days of January and February that our Lithuanian Saturday School teachers would assign the annual composition assignment which would cause our ordinary lives to enter a time period none of us had ever experienced. Our prime sources were our textbooks, and our parents’ and teachers’ reminiscences.

We were to write about the meaning of February 16th. The assignment varied only in perspective. Sometimes we were to analyze its significance on the Lithuanian people; or reiterate historic events; or look forward into the future and speculate how freedom could once more be won.

Either way we looked at it, we were about to write the best essay of the year about a subject we could never have imagined experiencing ourselves. We managed somehow. We used the words and thoughts that had been part of our schooling. We reflected what we had learned and had assimilated into our beliefs. I suppose being descriptive and grammatically correct earned the most points. Afterward, we breathed a sigh of relief and life went on as usual.

It wasn’t until January 13th, 1991, did any of us realize what February 16th or, for that matter, independence for Lithuania really meant. The wonder of television brought the January 13th tragedy into our homes and our lives. We sat transfixed and numb as each report came in.

The words we had written about independence during our childhood hit us straight in the face. During those short horrific hours "independence" was the only thing we understood. It was the only need ...hope ...thirst ...we felt for Lithuania’s people and their country. And it was the first time we truly understood the meaning of February 16th.