The following is part one, of the testimony of Jacqueline. She has given me permission to share her remarkable story. It is a testament to God's faithfulness and protection.
God Bless, ~Kathryn
God's Grace On My Family
Sometime in the year 1939 Maman her brother-in-law and sister thought it would be wise to leave Paris and go to the family country home near Normandy, France. At that time Maman was pregnant with me and she had my sister Francoise with her. My Papa was working for the police department in Paris as a detective/inspector at that time.
I was born on January 5th, 1940. When Maman was in the delivery room and I was about to be born, warning sirens started going off and doctors and nurses left to take cover as my Maman gave birth to me, all alone as bombs were falling around her and her new born. Later on the whole family returned to Paris as the war was in full motion.
Papa while working for the police department was also involved in working with the French underground. Helping the Jews to go to the free zone: Spain. There was no French government, everything was under the domination of the Nazis. From his position in the department he had access to the list of Jewish families and their addresses, where the Germans would, without warning, surprise them with a dreadful visit and order them to come with them taking only their most precious possessions. Papa would contact each of the families ahead of time, bringing them new identification papers and I believe sometimes take a small “scattered” group in order to not attract attention, to a specific spot at the train station.
The Germans kept going to emptied apartments and realized that someone on the inside were warning those families. A list of suspects was prepared and Jean Pierre Rouviere, ( his name is equivalent to John-Peter) had become one of the names getting the most attention. Papa had to leave Paris promptly in order to keep his anti-nazis activities and avoid being arrested and probably done away with for good.
I believe this is a good place to share how, on a Christmas Eve, Papa’s life was spared, only by the grace of God. A man in the underground network (the head of the network I think) approached Papa whose turn it was to take a little group of Jews to the train station that Christmas night. He said, “Jean, it’s Christmas, you have a family, I am by myself, why don’t you try to go spend a little time with them tonight? I will go instead of you tonight.” Papa very gratefully accepted. That night the Gestapo was going to finally get Papa, they were on their way to arrest him. They arrested his friend instead, maybe still assuming they were getting the right man, I do not know. They interrogated him, beat him, tortured him, turned the dogs loose on him and he was torn. When they were done with him he was beyond recognition. That man never said anything to compromise the underground activities, he never revealed any name, never confessed any information regarding sabotage or other projects. He died a hero, giving his life for many, saving many lives by his heroic silence. Again the hand of God was on Papa that fatal night. It was God’s will and I am only grateful for the Lord’s faithfulness to His promise to Abraham. Those who curse you I will curse those, who bless you I will bless. From Paris Papa went to a region in the center of France called Les Cevennes to resume his underground activities.
Throughout the years it was recounted to Francoise and I that purposely, Papa would never let Maman know of his whereabouts, because he knew the Germans had ways of making people talk; he considered the cause of the Jewish people to be of utmost importance. When I was around 2 or 3 years of age, the Germans came to pick up Maman, to take her to the headquarters, to be interrogated about Papa’s activities. I was with her, it was my first time in a car, which made me feel nauseated. Once arrived they took Maman in a room, there were glass windows between the room she went in and the one they kept me in. There were several men and a big table. They set me down and gave me paper and blue and red pencils, and I drew French flags the whole time. After a while they released Maman. God was with her that day and we went back home. Another time some Germans as it was their custom came to the apartment accompanied by one or two Frenchmen looking to see if they would find any firearms. Each one went to different parts of the apartment, looking for any incriminating evidence of any involvement against Nazis Germany, or firearms. The French man came back from one of the rooms, saying to the Germans “there is nothing there, I checked.” He saw the rifles hanging inside the fireplace and chose not to alert the Germans. Again God was with us.
The only memory I have of Papa during my first 4 years on the earth, is hearing a voice at night that I did not know, pulling me out of my sleep in Maman’s bed, in which the 3 of us Francoise, Maman in the middle and me slept together. I remember, several instances, opening my eyes for a minute and then go back to sleep. I learned later on that Papa would, unannounced drop by at night for a few minutes, which always made Maman nervous and apprehensive. Living in constant fear is a real torment. The reason the 3 of us slept in one bed was, in case of the bombs falling around, we would all be together. This is what Maman told us afterward when “happy days” were here again!!!
Maman had to be strong and resilient, there were times we had nothing to eat. At the beginning of each month Maman would receive a food ration card. By the end of the month pieces of bread in hot water is all we had, I could barely swallow it, to Maman’s chagrin. I have always been amazed at the amount of detailed memories I have stored since I’ve lived through them when I was 2, 3, 4, and 5 years of age. But I did.
I remember the sight of the Nazis flag blanketing the top of all official buildings and monuments and the sight of German’s in their uniforms, and the deafening noise of the boots marching in the streets of Paris, singing their songs of victory they thought. I knew they were the cause of what was going on. I picked up the words from the adults, and the ever present feeling of fear and oppression. I remember doing my own personal war every time I saw a German uniform, with the most mean, angry, dark eyes directed towards them to show my disapproval.
Before Papa had to leave Paris, while working for the police department of Paris, one of his best friends and co-worker was an Arab: Monsieur Mimoun. I have to make mention of him. I remember him also. Very nice man. I still see his face, his eyes and his smile. After Papa left, Monsieur Mimoun would come to the apartment once a month and bring some money to Maman and he would say “Madame Rouviere, this is Jean’s pay, the department does not want to give him his full pay but only half.” It is only after the war that Maman learned the truth. Monsieur Mimoun was giving her half of his own pay. I thank the Lord for Monsieur Mimoun, a very kind, humble Arab who knew Papa was working against the Nazis’s and helping the Jews. I pray God’s mercy on Monsieur Mimoun. Throughout the war when Papa was away God always provided for us in astonishing ways.
The Lord brought us to the largest state of the union, where the truth of the Gospel has been written in our hearts by His Apostle and Prophet Doyle Davidson.
About 2 years prior going to heaven in 1972, Papa was born again, baptized in water and adamantly renounced the Masons. The Lord lead him to repentance about the Masons. Francoise was living with Papa and Maman at that time, (I was living in Fort Worth, where I still am), and he asked Francoise to destroy everything, books, and whatever he had pertaining to this chapter of his life. Again God’s hand was on Papa and made him turn completely against the Masons. God knew when He would call Papa to Him and a measure of repentance by His goodness was given to Papa. I am certain. Again God’s grace for sure. He was focusing only on his new life with Jesus being the center of it. He had a stroke in 1970 and his peripheric vision was impaired, he could not see enough to read the bible so Maman and Francoise at his request would read it to him. I remember how determine he was to walking well again and was faithful to walking around the block on a daily basis. One note about Papa, he always hated the Catholic Church and firmly believed that there was absolutely no need for a pope.
In the continuation of this testimony I will share about when the Lord put love in my heart for the Americans and Texas and America.
God Bless,
Jacqueline"
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