Sunday, May 3, 1914
our 13th day on the ship
Mama says that it is sinful that we have gone two Sundays without going to Mass. One of the men from Bukovyna tells her that there are no churches in Canada because no one would pay for God’s passage. When he said that, some of the people laughed, but I think it’s a rude thing to say. Besides, God is everywhere, isn’t he?
Mama made us all kneel down in our compartment like we did last Sunday and we said a prayer.
Later
Irena gave me the most beautiful necklace of white and yellow beads. I shall wear it always.
Here is what it looks like:
What I especially love is the one large pearly white Venetian bead that has a flower etched inside it!
Monday, May 4, 1914, Day 14
My hands are blue with cold and it is hard to hold this pencil. If I squint hard, I can see land! I am so excited. I will see Tato soon. And our new house!
Mama needs me to help her pack, so I must go.
Tuesday, May 5, 1914, Day 15
Our ship passed land but didn’t stop. Irena and I stood on the steerage deck and tried to see as much as we could, but everyone had the same idea. Mama held Mykola’s hand but he kept on trying to squirm away.
I stood on my tiptoes and watched as the ship glided past high grey rocks and vast stretches of land. We must have been going through a gigantic river because there was land on both sides. It is cold and bare and empty. Is this Canada?
One of the men said that the ship will stop when it reaches the Port of Montreal.
Later
After hours and hours there were finally people and houses and docks on the land instead of just rocks. It is still cold though and has been raining.
Everyone was crowding at the side of the ship, trying to see the shore. I couldn’t see, even standing on my tiptoes. Finally, I got down on my hands and knees and crawled through people’s legs to get to the front. I could see the shore through two ladies’ skirts. Irena was right beside me.
The ship slowly came to a stop and we all cheered. I had a lump in my throat. I am so excited about seeing Tato and our new home, but I am sad and scared too. What will my life be like in Canada?
I miss Horoshova so much.
Later
The ship has landed, and there is a crowd of people at the dock. We don’t see Tato.
Later
Everyone on the ship lined up according to the language that they spoke and then a doctor checked us over. There was a man with the doctor who could speak our language. I could see that Mama was fearful when the doctor checked Mykola. He has been sick so many times in his short life, but thankfully the doctor passed him. He didn’t take too long with Baba or Mama either. It didn’t occur to me that I would have any problems getting through, but he took longer with me than anyone else. He thought that I might have an eye infection but I told the translator that my eyes were red from crying. The translator patted me on the shoulder and the doctor passed me.
After our health inspection we had to go through an interview with a Canadian government official. Mama showed him Tato’s letter and some forms that we had brought. Tato had said that we would have to show him our money, but the official didn’t ask us about this. He filled out a paper for each of us and stamped them with an official-looking crest. It didn’t take very long but it was scary. I have always been afraid of people in uniforms.
Tato still isn’t here. Mama and Baba and Mykola and I are sitting on the dock on our boxes. I am scared. What if he doesn’t come for us?
It is no longer raining and the clouds have cleared. The sun is shining, although it is hard to tell because of the smoke in the air. Now that I am warming up I can smell my stinky clothing. I can hardly wait until Tato comes to get us so that I can have a proper bath.
The people who come to the dock are not dressed like us. The women don’t have scarves on their heads. Instead, they wear odd hats like this:
And they don’t braid their hair. It is somehow puffed or curled and it looks ugly.
When we got off the ship, most people ignored us, but one couple held their noses and made faces. It’s not our fault that we stink. How would they like it if they had just been in the bottom of a ship for two weeks?
That couple has left, and still we sit on the dock, praying that Tato will come. If this is Montreal, I don’t like it. The houses and buildings are all black with soot. There are big ships here, not just ours. There are trains and there are factories. There is smoke in the air and the ground is strewn with paper and garbage. Everything is black or grey or brown.
— I miss cherry blossoms and the lilacs of Horoshova
— I miss the clean blue Dnister River
— I miss the hundreds of shades of green in the forest
Where is Tato?
Irena and her family left for one of the trains. I asked her to write me, but she said that she doesn’t know how. Oy, it makes me sad to think that she never had an older brother like I did, who was willing to teach her to read and write. When Irena saw how sad I was at the thought of never hearing from her again, she took my hand and looked me in the eye. “I will learn to write,” she promised. “And I will write to you.” I miss her already. And Halyna too. And I miss my dear brother Volodymyr more than words can say.
I am trying hard not to cry.
Much later
TATO FINALLY CAME!!!!
Wednesday, May 6, 1914
very late at night in our new home at 261-3 (front) Grand Trunk Street
Everyone else is asleep. When I sit close to the window, enough light from the street lamp outside shines through for me to see.
Here is what happened when Tato came:
He arrived with a horse and wagon and a plant in a little clay pot for Mama. It was a sunflower. Tato said he grew it from seeds from our garden in Horoshova. Tato is so strong that when the driver wouldn’t help him with our luggage, he lifted our boxes into the wagon by himself. Even though he was so strong, he looked different than I remembered him. He was wearing trousers and a shirt like a Canadian man, and he had sturdy leather boots. He has a deep line across his forehead but when he smiles his face looks almost like I remember it.
I thought we would have a long drive, but our house is just a little ways away from the Port of Montreal. Tato says our street is named Grand Trunk after the company that owns the railroad — not named after the big boxes.
But our house is a big tall box. I thought we were going to get the whole house to ourselves, but Tato laughed when I said that. Even though we don’t get the whole house, we have the front of the top floor, which is wonderful!
When the wagon stopped at our house, people came out to watch. A man from the bottom level helped Tato with the boxes. His name was Ivan Pemlych and he immigrated from the village of Shuparka, which is about eighteen kilometres from Horoshova. Isn’t it strange how we can cross the ocean, and one of the first people we meet is from a neighbouring village? He said that his youngest son Stefan is close to my age. He wasn’t at home right then so I didn’t meet him. I am glad that there is someone else here that is my age, even if it is a boy.