My Name is Esther

My name is Esther<,  storyteller and family matriarch. How that happened is a mystery. Yesterday I was a child. Today I am relied upon to write what we know of  our family history.

My sisters,  Eileen and Marion, are my research assistants.  We  heard the tales of early immigranthardship at the end of the 19th Century and beginning of the 20th. Together we believe we can get the time line right.

Dad came to Canada from Lithuania at the turn of the Century, as a 15 year old, actually 17, but changed his age to avoid service in the Russian army.

Born in Lithuania, when the church bells rang on any day but Sunday, he knew they had new masters.  The small 'schtetel'  small town, Rakozic is no longer on the map, but during his in his stay  Lithuanian, Russian and German.

Every victor changed the education system. The Russian, German and Lithuanian languages were quickly forgotten with ongoing changes.  Yiddish and broken English were his tools of communication.

Mom was Canadian born.  Her mother came to Canada from Poland at the age of 16 to visit her grandmother.  The reason  her grandmother came with her two sons in the 1880'shas been swept away. as so many other stories have been. We know only that Great Grandma extracted a promise from her daughter that at age 16 my grandmother would come to Canada for a summer visit.  That promise was kept and my grandmother never saw her parents again.Now after three days I have finally found this again/ It was lost and it arrived on it's own, so I am going to Publish this without any further ado.

Then I will continue when I discover how I found this. `

The life of a new blogger is difficult indeed, I do wish Word Press had a seniors edition. But more of that on the blog that just disappeared. When I find it, out to you dear readers, My sisters promised

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