Maria Ercília Guião Mendes de Quadros

BIOGRAPHY

Maria Ercília Guião Mendes was born in the city of São Paulo, Brazil, on 31 May 1916, the only daughter of Ercília Guião and José Mendes. She was born by caesarean section and was given the same name as her mother, who had been gravely ill during childbirth and was at risk of dying. According to her daughter, although she was an only child, she was always surrounded by many friends. She was a very cheerful and lively girl, skilled on roller skates and a confident cyclist. During her adolescence, her father abandoned the family, leaving to live with another woman and start a new family. Her mother — until then a devoted and talented homemaker, the daughter of a successful doctor — began working to support herself and to pay for María Ercília’s education.

She was raised to be independent — especially since, at the time, it was uncertain whether the daughter of a divorced woman would be able to find a suitable husband. After graduating from Stafford College, she chose not to pursue university studies. Instead, she took a typing course and soon began working at the State Attorney’s Office, where she remained until she married. It was while leaving work one day, on her way to catch the tram, that she began exchanging glances with the man who would become her husband — Antônio de Quadros Júnior, a lawyer who was then working in another government office. One quality in particular stood out to her: he came from a large family. He was the only son in a household of nine children. They married in December 1938 — she was 22, he was 24. Their first daughter was born in November 1939, and their second in October 1941. They had hoped to have more children, but her third pregnancy was ectopic and resulted in her needing a hysterectomy.

Shortly after their marriage, following the death of her Aunt Hilda — her mother’s sister — Maria Ercília and Antônio were invited by her widowed uncle to live with him in his mansion in Higienópolis. Her Uncle Lano became like a true father to her and a devoted grandfather to the couple’s daughters. Her own mother, Ercília, also moved in with them after being diagnosed with a debilitating illness — progressive deforming rheumatism — which required constant care and eventually left her paralyzed. Later, her aunt Elvirinha, Ercília’s youngest sister, also came to live with them. Elvirinha was deaf and often welcomed groups of deaf friends to the house, introducing the entire family to the world of Brazilian Sign Language (LIBRAS).

As soon as the couple bought a car, Maria Ercília earned her driver’s license. She continued driving until the age of 90, when her family applauded at her decision not to renew it. But the car was never her only mode of transportation. She loved to walk — often covering long distances on foot from her home in Jardim Paulista, where she moved in the late 1950s, all the way to Higienópolis or even the city center.

Swimming was another passion of hers. She enjoyed swimming at Clube Athletico Paulistano, and later, at the same club, she took up weight training, trying to prevent her osteopenia from progressing into osteoporosis.

In the 1950s, when she would take her daughters to dance parties, Maria Ercília formed a social group with the other mothers. They met once a month for tea — an event affectionately called “O Chá das Tagarelas” (“The Chatterbox Tea”). After her daughters grew up, she remained active and engaged in community work. She joined a church-affiliated group that supported women from the outskirts of the city, teaching them practical skills such as embroidery, sewing, knitting, and crochet. She also helped organize charity bazaars to sell the handmade products they created. For many years, she sang in a volunteer choir dedicated to charitable causes, and later continued singing in the choir at São Gabriel Church.

Her love of music was a constant presence throughout her life. She would play guitar for her grandchildren, creating playful songs using their names, and teaching them nursery rhymes, marches, and even songs in French. When her eldest granddaughter began dating the man who would become her husband — a musician — Maria Ercília asked him for help in buying a piano for her home. She began taking piano lessons herself, though she didn’t continue for long. Still, the presence of the piano in her living room sparked the creation of an event that would become a tradition for over 30 years: an annual soirée, whose main purpose was to showcase the compositions of her cousin from Rio de Janeiro, Ismail de Oliveira Figueiredo. For these soirées, she invited pianists and singers to perform Ismail’s works. After presenting his songs, the performers were free to play, sing, or recite whatever else they wished. Maria Ercília personally oversaw every detail of the event — from the musical program to the personalized gifts for each artist, from the buffet menu to the coordination and logistics of the musicians and guests. Even after turning 100, she continued to attend soirées and musical performances, always surrounded by friends who, like her, shared a deep love of music.

Maria Ercília cared for many of her mother’s cousins, most of whom were slightly older than she was. She would visit them regularly, take them to medical appointments, and often invite them to her home for Sunday lunch. One of these cousins eventually moved into a nursing home, and Maria Ercília would visit every week, bringing her guitar to sing for the residents.

She loved to travel. Since Antônio wasn’t fond of traveling, she often set off accompanied by friends, cousins, or sisters-in-law. At the age of 97, she took her last major trip: a pilgrimage to Israel with her two daughters and one of her granddaughters. She impressed everyone in the group by participating in every activity without missing a single program, earning applause for her energy and spirit. On her travels, she always made new friends and kept in touch with many of them through letters. At Christmas, she would receive cards from different states and countries. She spoke and read English, French, and Spanish.

She often told her granddaughters that one of her few regrets in life was having stopped working. In the mid-1970s, when a new telephone service called Disque Tem was launched — allowing people to call in and find all kinds of service providers — Maria Ercília didn’t hesitate to register herself as a typist and translator. She began receiving requests for all kinds of work: theses, school papers, legal documents — anything that required typing or translation. This allowed her to stay active and connected to the working world she missed.

She was always known for her positive outlook on life. However, as she approached her 70th birthday, she went through a brief period of depression. A blind man for whom she used to read — and who claimed to be a psychic — had once told her she would die at 70. For a while, the idea weighed on her. In general, she enjoyed excellent health. Still, at the age of 73, she suffered a bout of pancreatitis that left her physically weakened. Thanks to excellent medical care and the dedicated support of her granddaughter — who helped her with pulmonary physiotherapy exercises — she soon made a full recovery.

She became a widow in 1995, in her late 70s. Until then, she had never even written a check — it had always been Antônio who handled the finances, giving her an allowance from which she managed all the household expenses. After his passing, however, thanks to his retirement pension as a state attorney, Maria Ercília was left financially secure. This allowed her to maintain her independence — paying for her own health insurance, medical care, caregivers, and any other expenses without difficulty. From the age of 79 to 99, she managed her finances. She knew exactly how to handle her money and budget her pension.

At 97, during the wedding of her first great-grandson, she was carrying the wedding rings down the aisle. Two years later, just shy of turning 100, she traveled to Brasília to attend the first birthday of her first great-great-grandson. She continued living in her own home until the age of 104, still climbing the stairs daily to reach her bedroom on the upper floor. After that, she moved in with her eldest daughter, who adapted a room in her home to meet her mother’s needs.

At her 100th birthday celebration, after singing with the church choir, she was clear-minded enough to tell her family that she thought she should say a few words. She asked them to help her write a short speech. Even at 104, during the sale of her house, there had been some concern at the notary’s office that she might not be able to sign the necessary documents. She surprised everyone by signing her name without difficulty.

A devout Catholic throughout her life, she took communion daily and dedicated herself to teaching catechism, preparing many people for baptism, first communion, and other sacraments. Despite her deep faith, she sometimes confided to her family that she struggled with doubt — especially because she feared death. By her side for most of her life was her loyal companion Olga — her cook and friend.

At the age of 108, she had five granddaughters and a grandson, 13 great-grandchildren, and six great-great-grandchildren.