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 Tato 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.
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)
Baba must have been planning for weeks. We set an extra plate so that the spirits of Volodymyr and Dido could join us. I think perhaps they should stay in heaven right now though because it is so cold here. Then again, they could enjoy Baba’s cooking! This is a very late night and I must be at work tomorrow, even though it is Rizdvo, our Christmas Day. Good night, Dear Diary, and Veselykh Svyat — or Happy Holidays!
Thursday, January 7, 1915
Rizdvo, late at night
This is the worst Christmas ever. I didn’t mind working on Rizdvo, truly I didn’t. We need the money. But when I got home I found Mama in tears. She has been fired. Mrs. Haggarty did not want to fire her. She is a fine woman and she even sent a package of food home with Mama today. Mrs. Haggarty said it was for Mama’s “own good” that she not work for her just now, but said as soon as the war is over she can have her old job back.
I am so angry. Doesn’t Mrs. Haggarty know that we depend on Mama’s pay? Oy, how shall we live now?
Saturday, January 9, 1915
My hands are sore and every day is the same. Nothing new to write about.
Wednesday, January 20, 1915, after work
It has happened. Our rent was due on January 15th. We paid as much as we could, but the landlord is kicking us out if we cannot pay the rest by the end of the week.
Thursday, January 21, 1915
Mama came with me to work today. I thought maybe they would hire her, but they say she is too old. She held her head high, but I could see the tears in her eyes. How will we manage? What is going to happen to us?
Saturday, January 23, 1915
I have only a few minutes to write, because we are packing!
The landlord came today and told us we had to be out of the flat by midnight. It doesn’t matter to him that there is a blizzard outside. We must be out. Where shall we go? I am so scared!
Sunday, January 24, 1915, at Stefan’s
Thank goodness for Stefan and his parents. The person who was renting the other half of their flat has been arrested. Mr. Pemlych has lost his job too, and they were having trouble paying their rent. They have rented the other half of their flat to us. Between my job, Stefan’s, and what Mrs. Pemlych earns, we have enough to cover the rent. There is very little left over for food.
Monday, January 25, 1915
at dawn at Stefan’s
I know that it is awful for me to say, but I am almost glad that the Pemylchs’ boarder was arrested. Where could we go if he was still living here?
Friday, January 29, 1915
I have been too sad and too cold to write. Besides, the days seem just the same.