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.
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.