Izabela Lundberg has been a devoted humanitarian since she was a little girl supporting Mother Theresa’s charity in Africa and then India fulfilling her true passion and love to lead by Gandhi’s and Mother Theresa’s principles.
Izabela had the opportunity and privilege to work closely with children and adults affected by some of the worst human atrocities — genocide, torture, war trauma, and human trafficking — from more than 80 countries worldwide in Europe and the US for over 15 years, after she herself survived the horrors of conflicts during the Balkan war in the early 90’s.

Using her inner strength and resiliency, Izabela overcame a great deal of loss and change through her very early adult years, including the loss of her freedom, identity, home, father, friends, and much more. She learned first hand how to cope with survival, and how to thrive while living in five different countries, learning new languages, going through the process of acculturation, adaptation, and education. As a result, she generated exceptional results in assisting other survivors to thrive in their new environments. She is a powerful agent of change and transformation!
Through her numerous humanitarian efforts, Izabela has spoken, facilitated and presented to a wide range of global audiences, skillfully addressing difficult to pics that are emotionally engaging through the eyes of an artist and the words of a poet. She has spoken at schools, universities, art galleries, conferences, workshops, religious institutions, etc.

 
You are the girl that helped us to restore our dreams!

J. S., Sufi Master




Hassan

The rubble and beggars,
Stench of sweat
Is taking presence
Around me.
The old days of happiness
Not resembled
Any more, …
Memories, so deceiving
Pleading, for the past,
And its beauty.
Only hurt left to hold on Mixed with a scream
Trapped in my throat
Of unspeakable.
The long shadow, hanging
On the pomegranate tree
Where we used to play …
Is telling me the truth
Of your last moment,
Now, and thousand times over.
In absolute silence.
Cold wind is blowing,
Chilling me to the core.
Where to go from here
When I denied you,
My brother, over and over
So blindly by deceit
Of my egotistic illusion
That I am the deserving one,
And you are the one left
To be sacrificed.

By Izabela Lundberg