Prisoners in the Promised Land Read online

  I have some other news and I hope it will not upset you. I am betrothed. I am sure you remember Bohdan Onyshevsky? I know that you and he never really got along, but he is much nicer than you remember. I hope you will give us your blessing. Please know that I still love dear Volodymyr, but he is dead and life must go on. Bohdan has offered to help my parents with their taxes. I do not love him, but he is kind. Maybe now that you are in Canada, you will be able to choose your own husband. How I wish I lived in Canada too.

  Do you remember my newborn calf Kvitka? She has grown big and strong. The soldiers took away her mother Chorna, so we have no milk until Kvitka is older.

  Please write and tell me about your wonderful new life. It makes me happy to know that you are happy and safe.

  Your true friend,

  Halyna

  Oh, Dear Diary, my heart almost stopped when I read that Halyna is marrying that horrible Bohdan! It is a true sign that all of the men are gone. I don’t know whether I should tell Halyna all of the things that are happening to me. I don’t want to upset her. But she is my friend so I should tell her the truth. Maybe it will make her feel better about her own life.

  Sunday, August 16, 1914

  On the way to church today a man ran up to Baba and grabbed her babushka. Baba held onto it and wouldn’t let him pull it off her head. He pulled so hard that he knocked her to the ground, but Baba still wouldn’t let go. Tato yelled at the man but it didn’t do any good and by this time, there were a couple of other men gathered around and even a woman. They were all laughing at Baba, telling her she should go back to where she came from.

  Tato’s face was red with anger and he punched the man in the mouth. That made the man let go of Baba’s scarf. Mama and I helped Baba to her feet. There was blood on the man’s teeth. I watched in horror as he punched Tato’s stomach so hard that Tato fell down. I ran to help him up, but before I could get there, another man kicked Tato in the ribs. Just then, a couple of men from the chytalnya came to Tato’s defence. The other men scattered. I hate to think what would have happened if those friends hadn’t come by right then.

  Mama said that maybe we should go back to the flat, but Tato brushed all the dust from his clothing and then checked to see if Baba was injured. Without saying a word, he held out an arm for Baba, which she took. Mama walked on the other side of Tato and gently looped her arm around his back so he didn’t limp too much.

  Mykola looked like he was about to burst into tears. “Do you want a piggyback?” I asked.

  A smile poked through his sadness, so I crouched down and he hopped up and we continued on our way to the church.

  Later

  Stefan came up to the roof after church and sat with me. “What are all these little white and yellow balls?” he asked, looking at my feet. They were the beads from the beautiful necklace that Irena had made for me. The threads must have broken without me realizing it. I stood up and shook out my clothing and more beads fell to the ground. What I was hoping was that the one special Venetian bead somehow got stuck in my clothing and wasn’t lost. Stefan got down on his hands and knees and helped me look, but we couldn’t find it. I don’t know when it broke. Perhaps when I gave Mykola a piggyback?

  It makes me sad to have broken the necklace that Irena made for me, but if I hadn’t lost the Venetian bead I could have at least put it back together. Oy, can things get any worse?

  Thursday, August 20, 1914, after work

  I don’t have much new to write, but just wanted to say that Mary’s eyes were red this morning. She told me that her older brother has enlisted in the Canadian army. I didn’t know she had a brother. She has never mentioned him before. It turns out that he lives in Toronto and speaks good English. His name is Ihor but he calls himself George.

  Friday, August 21, 1914

  It rained all day. I got soaked going to work and coming home!

  Later

  Tato just came home. He says something called the “War Measures Act” has been put into place. It means that people who recently came from Austria-Hungary or Germany can no longer get newspapers or letters from home, and if the government wants to, it can take property away from us because we’re “enemy aliens.” As if we owned much.

  Monday, August 24, 1914

  dusk, on my roof

  I am getting better at doing the seams. My stitches are so neatly done that the boss has moved me to another job. In one way this makes me sad because I no longer sit beside Mary, but I do make more money. My new job is working with the buttonhole maker. It is a more difficult job and Mary told me that they have trouble keeping people in it. I am going to try my best, even if it means staying late at work. I cannot lose this job. My family depends on it.

  Tuesday, August 25, 1914

  It is cold, Dear Diary, and so is my mood. Because of the War Measures Act, men who are not “naturalized British citizens” must report at the Immigration Building on St. Antoine Street. This means Tato must report too! He went there today for the first time. Some men are being held as prisoners there, including Slava’s father! Where could Slava possibly be? I am worried about her.

  Thursday, August 27, 1914

  The Russians have invaded Germany. Each day, the news gets worse. My life is black black black and all this has happened because of that student killing the Archduke.

  This may sound awful, but even though it is bad here in Canada, I am glad that we are here and not in Horoshova. If we were there, Tato might be dead by now.

  Friday, August 28, 1914, at bedtime

  Now Germans have invaded the north of France. They are calling this “a terrific struggle waged all over the world.” I am sad for all the people who are being killed. And all because of an argument between Austria and Serbia.

  Saturday, August 29, 1914

  The British have sunk four German warships. It is good that Britain is doing better in the war, but what about all of those Germans? They don’t deserve to die. None of these people deserves to die. It is all so unfair.

  Since it is unsafe to be outside, I have been doing work on my hope chest. It is a dreary life to work in a sewing factory all week and then to handsew on the weekend, but I am trying to stay busy to take my mind off the war.

  Monday, August 31, 1914

  The weather was so nice that I asked Tato if we could go to the market together today. He is getting good at shopping, but I need to get fresh air once in a while. I was shocked at how rude a few of the farmers are to him. Some of the people that I used to buy goods from will no longer sell to us. There are still farmers who will sell to us, thank goodness.

  September–December 1914

  Wednesday, September 2, 1914

  I am forcing myself to look happy today even though my heart is breaking inside. Mykola is going to school, but I am not. How can I possibly go to school when I have a good job? Tato was angry with me when I told him I would not quit, but deep down I know he was relieved. After he sat quietly at the table for a bit, he said if his daughter wasn’t in school, then his son would be. I think Mykola is too young to go to school, but Stefan says other boys his age go, so Mykola should also. Besides, with me working such long hours, what child is here to play with him? Stefan said he would take Mykola to Sarsfield School with him and he has promised to watch over him. I just hope Stefan stays in his nice mood about this.

  I wish I had the kind of job Stefan has so I could work and still go to school, but I am thankful for what I have. It makes me proud that I can help support my family.

  Friday, September 4, 1914

  Mykola came home from school today with a bloodied lip and a big grin. He said the school bully tried to beat him up but he stood his ground. “He looks a lot worse than I do,” he said. I asked where Stefan was when all this was happening. “He was being beaten up too,” said Mykola.

  Oy. My little brother is growing up too quickly. I wish he didn’t have to learn how to fight, but I know he has no choice. At least he isn’t afraid to stand up for himself.<
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  Sunday, September 6, 1914

  It is Mykola’s namesday and he is now six. He was in a bad mood because it poured rain all day and he wanted to play on the roof with me. Baba and I surprised him with our special present. I was able to purchase some cloth from the head seamstress at a good price, and also some buttons. She let me stay after work. I made Mykola a Canadian shirt. I don’t know how to make trousers with a sewing machine, but I brought home some cloth for that too, and Baba handsewed a pair of Canadian trousers while Mykola was at school. You should have seen his eyes when he opened up the package! Maybe now he won’t have to get into fights.

  Mama gave him a pair of knitted socks, and Tato gave him a penny. Mykola wasn’t going to accept it at first, but Tato insisted. I wonder what he will buy with it?

  Almost forgot — there was some cloth left over so I gave it to Stefan. His mother patched his pants and they look much better.

  Friday, September 11, 1914

  The British forces have pushed the Germans back thirty-seven miles! Oy, I hope this war is over soon.

  My life is dreary and every day is the same. The only news is from the newspapers and it is not good!

  Tuesday, September 29, 1914

  Dear Diary, I am so sorry that I have not been writing in you more often, but there is nothing to report except the same old bad news about the war. Each day is like the last and my hands are so sore from working in the factory all day that I don’t want to write in you unless I have something different to say.

  Wednesday, October 7, 1914

  (cold all day)

  The newspaper says that 22,000 Canadian soldiers are being sent to Britain for training. I wonder if Mary’s brother is one of them?

  Monday, October 19, 1914

  (cold and rainy like my spirits)

  Dear Diary, I barely have the heart to write. The war is going well for Canada and that is good, but it makes me wonder about what is happening back home. I have had no letters or news from Halyna because of the War Measures Act. From what the newspapers say, it sounds like there could be fighting right in Horoshova. I am so worried and sad.

  Tuesday, October 27, 1914

  There was frost on my window when I woke up this morning and the puddles I saw on the way to work were frozen. Again I find that the weather fits my spirits. In the paper today there was a map of northern Europe showing the enemy line. I wish they would show a map of what is happening in eastern Europe. It is hard not being able to hear news from home. Also, the newspaper said that the Allies (that’s the Canadians and the British and France and Russia) have taken prisoners. I wonder if any of them are from Horoshova?

  Sunday, November 1, 1914

  Dear Diary, my hands have been too sore to write and too sore to do more work for my hope chest. I am just going to stay curled up on this pillow and try to think of happy things.

  Tuesday, November 10, 1914

  The buttonhole machine is finicky and I have poked my fingers more than once, but I am good at it and I need this job. There was frost on the window yesterday morning and my hands were blue with cold by the time I got to work, but it is milder now.

  All of my days are the same.

  Sunday, November 29, 1914

  It says in the paper today that eight Victoria Crosses have been awarded in England. Five were given to privates and three to officers. I wonder if Mary’s brother got one.

  Saturday, December 19, 1914

  Late at night, exhausted after a wonderful day!

  When I got home from work at lunchtime, Mama and Tato and Baba and Mykola were all sitting at the table, grinning. There were two small parcels wrapped up in red cloth and tied with string.

  I had forgotten that it was St. Nicholas Day today.

  Do you know what was inside, Dear Diary? A beautiful carved little girl, with braids made of real hair and a cloth kerchief and a little flowered skirt. Inside Mykola’s parcel was a carved boy with a sheepskin vest.

  Tato made the dolls, and Mama and Baba sewed the clothing for them. I have no idea when they made them. I suppose while I was at work or after I went to bed. Mykola seemed to know all about them. Tato said he didn’t have time to make a doll’s house yet, but he would. He says that he wants me to stay a child just a little bit longer.

  It makes me feel bad that I have no gifts to give, but Mama said that I give so much every day, what with work and helping with Baba’s chamber pot!

  Wednesday, December 23, 1914 (cold!)

  There was a letter waiting for me when I got home from work! Even before I saw the return address or the stamp, I knew it couldn’t be from Halyna because of the War Measures Act. It was from Irena. I have pasted it in below:

  General Delivery,

  Hairy Hill, Alberta, Canada

  November 30, 1914

  Dear Anya,

  Sorry that I have not written sooner but you would not believe all the work there is to do on a homestead. I have no idea how my father managed before Mama and me and Olya got here! Our crops were small this year because we still have only managed to clear away the trees from a few of our 160 acres.

  You would be surprised at the dry air here. The palm of Mama’s hand cracked from dryness and it is taking a long time to heal.

  We did get our small crop in, though, and our vegetables are in the root cellar and our grain is in sacks. Father bought a musket and ammunition from an Indian and he and our neighbour have been hunting. This is good because if it wasn’t for the duck and geese, we would be hungry. Father says that the Indians are the ones to count on when you’re in trouble because they don’t look down on us.

  We have heard that some new immigrants in the cities are being put in prison. Is this true? Our men must go into town and get their papers stamped at a government office, but that is all.

  Olya sends you kisses and so do I. Mama says hello to your Baba and Mama.

  Your good friend,

  Irena

  Friday, December 25, 1914 (colder!)

  I am bundled in my comforter even though it is daytime!

  Dear Diary, people in Canada celebrate Christmas today and so I have a day off work. It is so cold today that I cannot believe it. It never gets this cold in Horoshova. Stefan and his parents came up earlier for a visit and they said that our flat is warmer than theirs! They told me it is two degrees below freezing!

  Monday, December 28, 1914

  It says in today’s newspaper that the Russian army has captured 17,000 men in Galicia and the Carpathians. I can hardly hear the news anymore without weeping. I wonder how many of our men have been arrested in Canada?

  Later

  Tato said that I could come with him tomorrow to the Immigration Building where he has been reporting in every Tuesday since the War Measures Act started. He doesn’t think it is a good place for girls to go, but I told him I wanted to see for myself who they were holding there.

  Even later

  Mama and Baba amaze me. Even though we have very little to eat ourselves, they made a small batch of honey cookies (they used corn syrup because honey is too expensive) for me to take to the prisoners. Mama says that times are difficult for us, but at least we can still live together at home and we always must think of those less fortunate.

  Tuesday, December 29, 1914

  Tato met me outside of the factory after work and he had the package of cookies with him. As we walked to the Immigration Building, we talked about what was in today’s paper. The Russian army is right on top of our homeland. I am very fearful because the Russian Tsar wants to conquer our people. Also, the Austrian army has been cut in two. Who will be left after this war is over? It is too bad Ukraine sits almost in the middle of Germany, Austria and Russia.

  When we got inside the Immigration Building, I almost cried. They are holding so many immigrants as prisoners.

  The men seemed to be happy for the cookies, but there were so few cookies that some men only got a bite. After that, we stood in line for about half an hour and then Tat
o got his registration card stamped. He has to carry this card with him wherever he goes.

  You will never believe who is one of the soldiers there! Remember the awful man in the dirty brown hat? Him! He is Private Howard Smythe. He wears a uniform now and I almost didn’t recognize him, but as we left he whispered something so evil that I can’t write it here. Tato pulled me away but I turned around and looked at Private Smythe. He has grey eyes and dark eyebrows and would actually be nice looking if it wasn’t for his personality.

  1915

  January–March 1915

  Wednesday, January 6, 1915

  Svyat Vechir, which is Christmas Eve in English

  Oy, what is Svyat Vechir without the carolling? But how can we go carolling with the way that people feel about us? At least the blanket of snow outside hides the litter and the coal dust on the streets. I am amazed at Baba. She somehow managed to make something for all twelve courses. Each course was very small, but here is what we had. I will write the English words too:

  1. kolach (braided egg bread)

  2. borshch (beet soup)

  3. vushka (mushroom-stuffed noodles for the borshch)

  4. mushroom-stuffed nalysnyky (thin pancakes)

  5. cheese and potato pyrohy

  6. sauerkraut pyrohy

  7. kasha pyrohy (buckwheat perogies)

  8. meatless holubtsi (cabbage rolls made with mushroom and rice)

  9. studenetz (jellied fish — feh!)

  10. kutya (my favourite — a pudding made with poppy seeds, honey, nuts and grain)

  11. compote (another wonderful treat — stewed fruit)

  12. and even a torte (the first time in our new home)