To understand St. Stephen Parish is to know the human heart and its thirst for a home. For more than 70 years this South Los Angeles church, between Main Street and Woodlawn at 37th Street, has been a refuge for its people --- a home for those countless whose primary languages are Hungarian, German or Spanish.

A large number of today's parishioners arrived at the doors of St. Stephen's before moving into apartments or beginning work. They received a hot meal and a welcome to the United States, and then began to re-establish their lives. Most often what they created was their own sort of "village" similar to those they were forced to leave behind.

The story of St. Stephen Parish is the story of its people like Elizabeth and Frank Gasztonyi, Anna Voros, Katie Wolpert, Liz and Frank Schneider, Regina Hefner Greger-Hight and, more recently, those with Spanish surnames like Contreras and Galdamez.

"They know me; I know them," declared Steve Schinko, a Hungarian-German parishioner for 50 years. "We're just like family from a foreign country --- Yugoslavia, Hungary, Romania, Austria, Germany --- all mixed up in one language. It's family. One hand washes the other; two hands wash the face. And we have lots of Spanish, too."

St. Stephen Church developed its unique spirit as a Hungarian parish under founding pastor, Father Mathias Lani, and it continues today with the present pastor, Father Hermann-Joseph Rettig. Father Lani, as a young boy, lived in Modosch in what was then Hungary and later became Yugoslavia. His education was Hungarian and his mother tongue was the German dialect.

As pastor the Hungarians of St. Stephen Parish considered him Hungarian and the Germans considered him German --- welcoming and warm hearted, as were his parishioners. "He melded the two as one community perfectly," says Father Rettig of his predecessor. (For more on Father Lani and the stories of St. Stephen parishioners who endured hardship in their homeland, see page 14.)

St. Stephen Parish still has its St. Stephen and St. Emery Hungarian Societies, Holy Name Society, Hungarian and German Choirs, a Spanish language choir and prayer group, and groups of Hungarians and Germans cook a hot meal each Sunday for all who attend Mass.

"I feel like every time I come here I am with God," says Rosina Leinz. "It's the priest, Father Rettig, the people I come to meet --- it's my second home. It feels like at home in the old country."

To Father Rettig, St. Stephen's "is my whole life. These people are my family. I cannot imagine being closer to anyone more than I am to my people here." They see him much like a member of their families, "like a son, brother or grandson," he says.

An extended family, and then some. Parishioners come for Sunday Mass from Banning, Long Beach, Santa Ana, Hawthorne, and the San Fernando Valley. Anni Blasi, nearly 90, travels an hour, one-way via bus, from her duplex in Mar Vista to Sunday Mass. "It's no sacrifice," she says. "I like to do it."

Conversely, a sick call can take Father Rettig to Palos Verdes or Downey. About 600 families are very active in the parish and another 2,400 families come at least once a month or for special feasts. About 300 children are in religious education classes, and 250-300 make their First Communion each year. As Katie Wolpert, 88, says, "This is our home now. I am every Sunday here where your friends are coming here. When I die I want to be buried from my church here."

"I love the church. I love the church," says Elizabeth Gasztonyi. "This is a little bit of Hungary for us. It is so beautiful. I've gone to other churches. No matter where I go I yearn for this one. This church is close to my heart. It is in my heart, my soul, and it's in me. I don't think I could be without it."