Maria was born in 1905, aboard a train traveling from her parents’ home village of Tyrol to a hospital in Vienna, Austria. She was too impatient to wait for the hospital; too impatient for life to begin. Her first squeals were mingled with the rattling of the carriages, but her little voice carried far. Even then, Maria’s mother felt that destiny held special things in store for the child.
Shortly after her daughter’s birth, Maria’s young mother fell ill and succumbed to pneumonia; a common illness at the time that preyed upon those in weakened condition. Maria’s father was overcome with grief. His wife had been the apple of his eye. He could not bring himself to care for the child who sought his affection day and night, and so one morning he decided to flee to the ends of the earth, in search of a new horizon and a fresh start. As for the child, he handed her over hastily to his family, and hopped on the very next train out of town. The plumes of steam billowing from the locomotive reminded him of his daughter’s birth. He shed a single tear, then disappeared forever. Maria would grow up without him. Her first songs were full of loneliness, as she waited for the man who would never return. When her father died, she was only nine. Maria was raised by her Uncle Franz, a strict and ill-tempered man. She was afraid of him. He mistreated her, beat her, and accused her of things she had not done. He was not only hard on her, but unfair too, and so Maria sought comfort in religion. Jesus listened: Christ understood. Her childhood songs became prayers. Listening to the church choir brought tears to her eyes. Her sensitivity irked Uncle Franz. Being forced to raise the girl was no gift, but for the child to be a religious zealot was even more vexing. He rained blows upon her, but Maria kept on praying in hushed voice. This dark childhood made her shy, and slightly sad. At school she was similarly devoted. Her maturity and good marks impressed her teachers, and Maria decided she would become a teacher one day, too.
It was a long road for Maria. After earning her high school diploma she fled the violence of her uncle’s home, and took shelter with a friend. Her pockets were empty. She was a woman, and an orphan. How could she hope to train as a teacher? Maria was a brave soul, and knew that God could hear her prayers, that her heart was pure and that she would find her way. And indeed, one day, she had a chance encounter. A hotel manager asked if she wanted to umpire a tennis tournament. “Of course!” Maria replied, without hesitation. She knew nothing about tennis, much less the task of umpiring. All she had was her poise and her perseverance. She prepared, and studied up, and did her best to referee the game she had only just learned existed. The manager was oblivious, and allowed her to umpire several matches. Maria did not spend any of her salary, patiently saving in pursuit of her dream. Eventually she had saved enough to apply for the renowned college where she would train.
Maria earned her diploma, and left school brimming with success. But where should she seek work? She did not take long to decide. Religion has been the one constant in her life, and so in 1924 she entered Nonnberg abbey, a Benedictine monastery in Salzburg, to train as a nun and governess. The convent’s mother superior gave Maria a rather unique mission: tutoring one of the seven children of a local widower, Captain Georg von Trapp. The little girl was recovering from illness, and needed help at home. And so, Maria arrived at the Von Trapp’s sumptuous mansion, nestled among sweeping green hillsides. She was greeted by birdsong and the gay cries of children; it was love at first sight, and Maria’s beauty, kindness and tenderness quickly won the children over. As the days went by, the teacher’s love for Rupert, Agatha, Werner, Hedwig, Johanna and Martina continued to grow. The children craved entertainment, and Maria was only too happy to teach them to sing. She was surprised to discover they had quite a talent for it, as if they were born for the stage. But Maria knew that all talent must be nourished with hard work, and was strict in her instruction. Learning to read sheet music was just as important as voice training, and individual skill mattered little without team spirit. A choir needs harmony, and harmony is an alliance.
Captain Georg Von Trapp was an austere and grim man. From a distance he observed the tutor who cared so well for his children. Would they not be happy if she were to come and live with them? Out of love for his children, he asked for the young woman’s hand. She was a quarter-century younger than him, and had wished to devote her life to Jesus, but Maria was so fond of the children that she asked for time to think before giving her answer. She returned to the convent to seek advice from another sister. The nun looked at her tenderly for a long while, gazing into her soul in silent contemplation. Then she cleared her throat and uttered the words that would decide Maria’s destiny: “It must be God’s will. Marry this man, and raise his children. You have been so good to them, it can be no accident that God set you on this path.” Bittersweet was Maria’s marriage to Georg Von Trapp. She had never imagined herself getting married, and even less so to a man she held in esteem but did not love. Still, the church bells chimed and a white veil fluttered over her tear-streaked face, and Maria’s fate was sealed.
The Von Trapps fled to the USA when Hitler rose to power. They performed in many concerts, and the family choir’s voices rang in thousands of ears. And of course, Maria von Trapp’s autobiography achieved resounding success when it was adapted into a motion picture: The Sound of Music.
Alan Alfredo Geday