I just know that there was a crowd there to welcome her, right along side of jesus.
My mother would have been one of the first in line! (Maren was her younger sister.)
To me, Tante Maren was almost like a living hero, having survived concentration camp as a young woman. Her joy of life and those rosy pink cheeks just drew us all to her immediately.
I am so glad that we were able to be with her in Norway last summer when my neice was married. It was a treasure for each one of us. Here is that story, and here.
The other story I wrote about her was from her time spent in concentration camp, here.
I told my cousin in Norway that I can just picture my mother and Tante Maren today, and in my mind, they are both young Norwegian girls again... laughing and talking together... in a part of heaven that looks just like Tromso...