I remember meeting Hoda in the early 1990s. We were neighbors. I had just moved to Pellegrini Street, and she and her family lived around the corner on España Street. They had a neighbor who was Leticia Uano’s grandmother — a lady whose name I don’t remember. Leticia, her granddaughter, was my classmate at school, and sometimes we would get together to play with Balbina, another classmate. But both Balbi and Leti didn’t live in the area; they were staying with their grandparents. That’s how I met Hoda and Neda — through them.
We were very little at the time. Every now and then we’d see each other, both Hoda and Neda. I really liked them both; they were very kind girls. A friendship grew from being neighbors — sometimes we’d see each other often, and other times not so much. I remember that sometimes I’d lend my bike to Hoda. She used to tell me that thanks to that, she learned how to ride. She was always very grateful and kind, a person with a good heart, very studious, but also very humble. To me, she was always dear and good-hearted. I’ve known very few people like her. I never heard her complain, criticize, or speak badly of anyone.
I also met her mother and father — both were very kind and thoughtful. Over the years, my family went through financial difficulties and we lost our house. Years later, I visited them at their home on La Plata and Patricias. We continued seeing each other from time to time.
I’m sorry… I can’t believe I won’t see her again. It’s very sad. I’m truly grateful to have met her. I loved her very much, and I hope God is keeping her in a good place.
Back then, when we were neighbors, I remember she was attending Bellas Artes high school. She painted beautiful pictures and also made other artworks using a different technique — I’m not sure if they were prints, I don’t remember. She gave me several drawings, which inspired me to draw as well. I remember that during that time, she liked the color magenta in oils. I went to see her exhibitions several times, even at her school on Arístides Street, where the Bellas Artes workshops were held.
Sometimes we would talk about religion, about God, and spiritual things. I’ve always been Catholic and still am, but we shared many thoughts. Sometimes we read Bahá’í prayers together, and she would tell me about Bahá’u’lláh. I even went to a few gatherings, like the Bahá’í New Year. She also taught me some words in her language — haha — some bad words too. We laughed because I learned them quickly.
I remember she would listen to me sing a song she liked — it was in English. I don’t remember much, but I think she really liked that language.
Some years passed without us seeing each other, though we ran into each other on a few occasions, until she told me she had been living in Spain for some time.
Hoda was a very lovable person, at least to me. She was kind, calm, easy to talk to, and always saw the positive side of things.
I remember a beautiful gesture she had once, back when we were still neighbors. She was taking a photography course and took a portrait of me — she gave it to me framed, in a blue frame.
As for those around her, I imagine they must have received so much love and kindness from her, because she had a very pure and good spirit. I think she’ll be deeply missed.
I remember there was always a particular aroma in her house — it came from a spice they used in cooking. I think her mom used it. I once asked about it, but I forgot the name. Her mom sewed clothes with a sewing machine; she seemed very skilled.
I really enjoyed having afternoon snacks at her house. Hoda would make combinations I had never seen before: bread with cream cheese and walnuts, or butter with honey — she’d mix it in a little dish and then spread it on the bread. I also tasted pistachios for the first time there, something I hadn’t eaten before. They cooked delicious and original food — at least to me, it was all new.
I met many people through her — friends from her school and university. She was a very social person.
Lastly, I send heartfelt love to her whole family, who will surely miss her dearly. And I want to tell Drazen (I’m not sure if that’s how you spell it, sorry) that he carries in his blood the legacy of a very special woman — his mother — exceptional. I’m deeply saddened she’s no longer here, for all the goodness she carried, her faith and trust in God, and her admirable ways. She was humble and cultured at the same time — someone you could trust with your problems, and she wouldn’t be indifferent; she would advise you, help you, listen. She was someone who would never let you down. A truly valuable person — attentive, warm, cheerful, and always ready to serve.
I wish her son a beautiful life, that he finds happiness despite the difficult trials we sometimes face. Much strength and encouragement to all of us who had the joy of knowing her, and now must let her rest in peace. I trust that God holds her in His glory. May her family find peace and comfort.