Daughter of a Croatian soul,
My father’s journey, a story told.
He came to America, dreams held tight,
A Muslim immigrant, seeking light.
In the 1930s, my father’s path unfurled,
In a Montessori school, a different world.
Catholic nuns, trained by Dr. M,
Guided his steps, roots for the stem.
Years passed, Denver’s Montessori doors,
Opened wide, where learning soars.
My father’s voice, firm and true,
"You’ll go there, it’s the path for you."
I grew up under Montessori’s wing,
Years later, when I had my own, it’d bring
No question, no doubt, a natural choice,
For my three, where they’d find their voice.
September’s morning, a new career planned,
Train tracks halted, fate took command.
Radio crackled, fear and despair,
Second tower fell, smoke in the air.
Turned around, heart in my chest,
Homeward bound, no time to rest.
Picked up my children, met the day,
Told the Principal, “I must find a way.”
Back to teaching, where seeds are sown,
Peace and purpose, in children grown.
A mission sparked on that fateful hour,
To nurture minds and guard their power.
Never looked back, driven by peace,
A lifelong quest that will never cease.
Montessori’s call, my compass, my guide,
A legacy lived, with love and pride.
