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Mama's Story: A Story of Survival
Mama's Story: A Story of Survival
Mama's Story: A Story of Survival
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Mama's Story: A Story of Survival

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This is a womans survival story that begins with life in Europe, loss of her father convicted of being a spy and sent to Siberia, her flight to Poland, where she becomes a prisoner of the Germans. She survives labor farms, a concentration camp and an abusive relationship in the U.S.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherAuthorHouse
Release dateJun 2, 2014
ISBN9781496905062
Mama's Story: A Story of Survival
Author

Emily G. Mereness

Emily Mereness lives in California. A successful business career took her to 51 countries, and she turned to writing when there was no one to whom she could relate the day’s happenings. She has written a column called “Writer’s Corner”, has been published in Reader’s Digest, in an anthology of poetry, and in business articles and papers.

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    Mama's Story - Emily G. Mereness

    MAMA’S STORY

    A story of survival

    Emily G. Mereness

    40100.png

    AuthorHouse™ LLC

    1663 Liberty Drive

    Bloomington, IN 47403

    www.authorhouse.com

    Phone: 1-800-839-8640

    © 2014 Emily G. Mereness. All rights reserved.

    No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

    Published by AuthorHouse 05/29/2014

    ISBN: 978-1-4969-0507-9 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4969-0505-5 (hc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4969-0506-2 (e)

    Library of Congress Control Number: 2014908374

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

    and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Contents

    Preface

    Author’s Note

    Introduction

    1925-1940

    1

    2

    3

    4

    5

    1940-Early 1942

    1

    2

    Late 1942-1943

    1

    2

    3

    4

    5

    6

    7

    8

    9

    1943-1945

    1

    2

    3

    4

    5

    1946-1948

    1

    2

    3

    4

    5

    1949-1951

    1

    2

    3

    4

    5

    6

    1951-1952

    1

    2

    3

    4

    Late 1952-1957

    1

    2

    3

    4

    5

    1957-1967

    1

    2

    3

    4

    5

    1968-1972

    1

    2

    3

    4

    5

    1972-1980

    1

    2

    1981-1990

    1

    2

    1991-2000

    1

    Epilogue

    Maps and Supporting Documents

    Family Pictures

    Recipes

    About the author

    This book is dedicated to my siblings, their children, my children, and all the children that will follow.

    Preface

    Our family does not have a family tree in the usual sense of the term. Our history begins with Walentyna, who was taken from her home early in life and never found any relatives who might have been able to provide some history.

    Walentyna was my mother and I was her first of five children. I often asked about her past and her life before I was born, as did my siblings. She rarely spoke to any of us about her life except as memories of happy childhood things, of specific things in her life that were to serve as lessons to us, or as comparisons of her life in the U.S. versus her life in Europe.

    She did eventually share some traumatic and unhappy history with me over the course of several evenings when she visited me in California. Those revelations were done at dusk, and late into the night, in a darkened living room. She did not want me to record those events, either in writing or on tape. And on each of those evenings we cried together, she for what was lost, and me for the pain she suffered. After she passed away I felt that my family, some of whom shared the hard days here in the U.S., should also know the other things she went through.

    My mother was an intelligent, loving woman who was trapped in a painful relationship, who could not find a way out that would not cause more pain to herself and to her five children. She eventually made friends and developed a sense of control that allowed her to be content with where she found herself in her later years. She was always happy and proud of the successes of her children. This book was done with the permission and involvement of my siblings, and took 10 years of research and work to complete.

    Author’s Note

    This story is a reconstruction of events as told to us, remembered by us, and as compiled from the various versions that we found we had between us. I apologize to my family for any inaccuracies, errors, omissions or misrepresentations.

    Where possible the story is based on actual documentation that I was able to locate, and on the historical records of what was happening at the time and in the countries where Walentyna found herself before, during and after WWII.

    The names used in this story are the names of immediate family who have given me their permissions or of family and friends who have passed away. Because most of the family is still alive and chooses not to have their friends and neighbors recognize them, last names have not been used.

    The Welzheim concentration camp was real and the towns, countries and states are the actual places where Walentyna and her family lived.

    The book title refers not only to the story of Walentyna’s life but also to the story she told us.

    Introduction

    This is one woman’s survival story that begins with her life in Europe, the loss of her father when he is convicted of being a spy and sent to Siberia, and her flight to Poland, where she becomes a prisoner of the Germans and is shipped to Germany. There she survives labor farms, a camp and is eventually freed when the Americans occupy Germany.

    Penniless and without family or friends, she is saved from committing suicide, only to become the prisoner of a bad relationship that continues through emigration to the United States. She raises her kids while suffering mental and physical abuse, and while trying to find some measure of control and contentment in life. This is a true story and is supported by documents and family photographs.

    Mama’s Timeline

    MAMA’S STORY

    The water in the old kettle was finally hot and Walentyna made herself a cup of tea. She sat with her cup at the window, looking out at the small garden where Mila used to play with the large garden snails. She would spend hours out there, gently moving them around, watching them pull back into their shells when she picked them up, and then patiently waiting for them to come out again.

    Mila had become tired and frail over the last month and she no longer played outside. The doctor had said that Mila had a problem with a kidney and would need surgery. When Walentyna worried that it might have been something that she should have done or spotted earlier, the doctor reassured her.

    Walentyna, this is not something that you could have avoided. I am sure that the bad kidney is something Mila was born with and it now needs attention. It was most likely due to your malnutrition during pregnancy.

    Walentyna had cried and the doctor told her that he wished that there was something he could do. There were so many people who needed help and in this case a little medicine or food coupons would not be enough. The three-year-old needed surgery to survive and it would have to be paid for.

    Walentyna heard Mila stir and as she moved the curtain aside she saw that Mila was awake.

    "Good morning, sleepy head. Are you ready to get up?

    Yes, Mama.

    Good. I have some nice bread with butter and sugar.

    Not hungry.

    Walentyna looked at her little girl, her blue eyes now so large in the tiny face. Not even a little?

    No, Mama.

    Mila had eaten very little in the past couple of weeks. The doctor had warned her that Mila would stop eating, and then she would begin to vomit as the bad kidney poisoned her system. Just yesterday Mila had complained that her stomach hurt, and all last night Walentyna had not been able to sleep. She eventually got up and spent most of the night in the chair. She didn’t want to wake Mila by tossing and turning in their shared bed. If there had been enough room, Walentyna would have paced the floor with worry, but in the tiny room there was nowhere to go.

    She smiled at her daughter as she helped her get dressed.

    Are we going outside?

    Yes, sweetheart, we’re going for a walk.

    Where are we going?

    What’s your favorite place?

    I like the river.

    Well, then that’s where we’re going.

    She dressed them both in the best they had. For Walentyna it was a dress that didn’t fit very well on her own thin frame, but it was deep blue and she loved the rich color. For Mila, she had made a cheerful little dress from fabric scraps she had found after sewing class, and Mila loved the new dress.

    Mama, are we going to church?

    No, why do you ask?

    We’re wearing our nice dresses.

    No, today we are going for a special walk. It’s a beautiful day, so I thought we should wear our nice dresses.

    I like my new dress.

    That’s good, because you look very pretty in it.

    It was good to see Mila smile and normally it would have warmed Walentyna’s heart. Not today. Today Walentyna’s heart was heavy and tears swam behind her eyelids as she smiled at her daughter.

    Are you sure you don’t want the bread?

    When Mila shook her head Walentyna told her, Go find your doll.

    Walentyna ate the bread and looked around the room. There was so little there—just the bed and its curtain, an old chair and a small dresser with the hot plate on it. She looked for a moment at the small crucifix hanging on the wall, and then turned and walked out the door.

    Mila slipped her small hand into her mother’s and the two of them walked slowly toward the river. As they walked, Mila was quiet, so unlike the lively little girl of just a month ago.

    Walentyna had no money, and to get food she would have to wait in long lines to get what little food was available. Mila was too sick to wait in those lines and the woman who used to watch her had moved away. Walentyna sighed as she walked, feeling old and tired, even though she was only twenty-four.

    The last few years had been very hard, trying to survive. She had been lucky to find a job cleaning up at the sewing school and had eventually been allowed to take sewing classes along with the other women, as long as she cleaned up afterwards. The money had allowed her to buy food, and the sewing class let her use discarded fabric scraps to make a few pieces of clothing.

    Winters had been especially hard, but last fall she had been given two old coats by one of the teachers. She used one for herself and pieces of the other to make Mila a coat. Another teacher had given her a pair of stockings for herself and a smaller pair for Mila from one of her own daughters. Both pairs had needed mending and now the feet on both pairs were almost totally made of mending yarn.

    Things had been barely manageable, and then she lost her job. One of the teachers had a young niece who needed the work and Walentyna had been let go. She had spent weeks looking for something else, but there were so many people needing jobs that when something opened up, people made sure that relatives got the work. Walentyna had no family or friends in the area to look out for her. She made so little money that she had not been able to save and now there was nothing, no job, no food and no money.

    It was a crisp sunny day, and Mila perked up and talked about the trees, some flowers she spotted, and about the river. She liked the river and would stand looking down at the water, asking questions about where the water came from, and did fish live in the water, and how did they swim, and what did they eat, until Walentyna would laugh and scold her for asking too many questions.

    Look, Mama. A big bird in that tree. What kind of bird is that?

    I don’t know. Maybe it’s a black bird.

    But it’s kind of brown.

    Yes, it is but I think people call it a black bird.

    That’s silly.

    Yes, I think so too.

    Soon they reached the river. As usual, Mila leaned way out over the short wall to look down.

    Look, Mama, a tree in the river.

    That’s just a branch.

    But it’s big!

    Yes, it is, but it’s only a big branch.

    What’s a branch"?

    Walentyna smiled and extending her arms, she said, See my arms? If I was a tree, these would be my branches.

    Mila raised her arms. I have branches, too.

    Yes, you do, but you have little branches.

    Mila stood for a moment with her arms up, and then slowly lowered them.

    Mama, I’m tired.

    Oh, my sweet baby. I know you’re tired. Here, let me pick you up.

    Walentyna picked her up and sat her on top of the wide stone wall.

    Mila, hold on, I’m going to come sit with you.

    No, Mama, we’ll fall.

    It’s ok, just let me sit down. Isn’t it a nice day? What do you think your snails are doing today?

    As Mila talked about her snails, Walentyna knew that it was time. She knew Mila would be frightened when she grabbed her, but it would be over quickly for both of them. The river was far below and very cold this time of year. She braced herself and reached out to Mila. She would just grab her and they would go over backwards. They wouldn’t see the river as they fell.

    Good morning!

    Startled, Walentyna turned around and saw a young man in a soldier’s uniform crossing the bridge.

    I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.

    Well, you did.

    He scared me, Mama.

    Yes, honey, he scared us both.

    I’m sorry. My name is Michal.

    I’m Walentyna and this is Mila.

    Such beautiful names and you speak such good Polish. Are you Polish?

    Walentyna did not want to chat but thought she should be polite. No, we’re not Polish. We were just taking a walk. My daughter likes the river.

    Well, I like it too. Can I sit with you?

    When Walentyna hesitated, he leaned down. Mila, can I sit next to you?

    Yes, but the rocks are dirty.

    He smiled and sat down. He asked Mila about her doll and while they talked, Walentyna tried to sit very still. She would not be able to hold herself together much longer.

    Please. Please leave us alone.

    The man was startled. I’m sorry. Is something wrong?

    Please just go.

    I was going to get some tea and some soup. Would you like to come with me?

    No, we’re fine. Thank you, but please go.

    Mama, I want soup.

    You do?? Are you hungry??

    Yes, Mama, just a little.

    Walentyna stood up, crying.

    Mila was frightened. Mama, mama, what’s wrong? Take me off the wall!

    Michal helped the little girl down.

    Mama, don’t cry. What’s wrong?

    Walentyna stooped down and hugged Mila. She was crying too hard to talk, so she just held her tightly.

    Michal stood, not knowing what to do. Come, let’s get some tea and some soup. Walentyna, please come with me. Mila, take your mother’s hand and come with me.

    Mila took her mother’s hand. Mama, come with us. Mama, please come.

    Led by her daughter, and still crying, Walentyna walked slowly off the bridge. She found her handkerchief and stopped to blow her nose.

    I’m sorry. I’m embarrassed. But it has been so hard, and Mila has been sick and today I just couldn’t do it anymore.

    Do what?

    Nothing. It’s nothing. I could use some tea and soup. And so could Mila.

    He led them down a nearby street where Walentyna had often seen soldiers as she walked home from work. Remembering that the young man with her was in uniform, she looked at him but it was not a uniform she recognized.

    You’re a soldier. Of what country?

    I’m a Polish soldier, but this is an American uniform.

    Why are you wearing an American uniform?

    It’s a long story. Can I tell you the story over tea?

    He took them to a small café, where the waiter welcomed him by name and tea was brought right away. Walentyna watched as Michal poured some tea in his saucer to cool and then he helped Mila drink it. Although Mila seemed surprised to be offered the saucer, she did drink the tea. When the waiter came back to take their order, Walentyna asked him first for another cup for Mila. Michal smiled at that.

    She doesn’t need a cup. I’d be happy to give her my saucer.

    No, thank you. I’m trying to teach her to have good manners.

    So, drinking out of saucer is not good manners, even for a small child?

    Well, she can hold a cup quite well and I would prefer it.

    Michal took his saucer from in front of Mila and placed it back under his cup.

    Michal, I’m sorry to ask, but are you paying for this? I don’t have any money.

    Of course I’m paying. I don’t invite someone to join me for tea and soup and then expect them to pay.

    After they gave their order, Michal leaned forward.

    Now, please tell me about the two of you. Where do you live?

    Michal seemed genuinely curious about them, but Walentyna felt slightly crazy. Her emotions and thoughts just kept jumping around and the picture of sitting on the bridge kept popping into her mind.

    Before I tell you about us, you said you’d tell me your story about being a Polish soldier in an American uniform.

    Michal laughed. You’re right. My story comes first and then I want you to tell me yours.

    Michal enjoyed telling his story and didn’t need much prompting. He and two of his brothers had enlisted in the Polish army when they heard about the war, and there was fear that Germany would invade Poland.

    Walentyna listened but her mind was on what would have happened if he had not interrupted her on the bridge.

    During the night she had decided that the only way to take care of her daughter was to stop her from getting any sicker. Without money, food or someone to turn to, her only choice was to throw them both in the river, because without Mila, there was nothing to live for.

    As Michal talked, she found that she could just nod and he would keep talking. He had been captured by the Germans and shipped to a prisoner of war camp.

    You were in a camp?

    Yes, I was, but for us it wasn’t too bad. I heard that not everyone was handled as well as we were. We had food and beds to sleep on. The lice were bad and the food was terrible, but at least we were fed. When we talked to some of our comrades afterwards, we learned that in some camps they slept on the floor and were fed every other day. Have you met other people from the camps?

    Yes, I know some people from the camps. But they were not soldiers.

    I have met some of those people, too. What a terrible situation that was.

    For some people, the situation is still terrible.

    Michal stared at her. Were you in a camp?

    Walentyna could feel the tears forming behind her eyes. Before she could answer, Mila said, Mama?

    Yes, sweetheart.

    I’m tired. Can we go home now?

    Yes, of course. But you didn’t eat your soup.

    I’m not hungry.

    Her heart sank. She had hoped that Mila was even slightly better when she had asked for tea and soup. She had to be hungry. Maybe the food was making her feel sick and Mila didn’t know how to tell her. Walentyna had to take her daughter home.

    Michal, thank you so much for the food, but we have to go. Mila is not well and she needs to rest.

    She was feeling terrible herself. Even though the tea and soup had been very welcome, she felt a bit crazy and she was also angry with Michal. If he had not come along, they would both be dead now, and the worry would be over. Instead, here they were, still alive, but she still had no food or money. She could survive one more day on this tea and soup, but tomorrow there would still be nothing. Even if Mila had been feeling a bit better today and had eaten her soup, she was still very sick and would get sicker. Michal stood up too. I’ll walk with you.

    No, please. Thank you very much for the food, but now we have to go.

    You’re welcome, but I don’t have any plans for today so I’d like to walk you home. Mila, would that be ok with you?

    Mila nodded and took her mother’s hand. Then she reached out and took Michal’s hand as well.

    Walentyna thought it best not to upset Mila by telling Michal to go, even though she did not want Michal to come with them. Michal wanted to talk, but Walentyna only answered reluctantly and he eventually gave up. They walked slowly, not speaking unless Mila had a question or asked about something. It was not far, and when they reached their building, Walentyna thanked Michal again, and then she took Mila inside.

    Mila was very tired and Walentyna took off her shoes and put her on the bed.

    Why don’t you take a nap? I’ll be right here. Walentyna covered her with a blanket and then went back to her chair at the window. Her mind was running in circles. Maybe when Mila woke up they would go back to the river and she would finish what she had tried to do this morning. She wondered why Michal had stopped to talk with them. If he had just continued on his way, she could have waited the few minutes until he was gone and then it would have been over. She put her head against the window. Tears slowly ran down her face, and her back shook as she cried quietly, trying not to wake her daughter.

    1925-1940

    1

    Walentyna was born on the outskirts of Kiev, the only child of well-to-do parents, and her life was easy and happy. Her father was an engineer and was delighted to find an engineering mind in his daughter. The fact that his child was a girl and not a boy was a disappointment, but it was also a challenge. Had it been a boy, schooling and a career would have been a simple thing to manage.

    Walentyna was just too bright and curious to accept that as a girl all that was intended for her was to be a wife and mother. She wanted to go to the ‘Gymnasium’, the local secondary school, and learn to be an engineer. No explanation was sufficient to make her believe that she would not be admitted to the school when she was older. She knew that she was smarter, funnier and could run faster than most of the boys she met. Certainly she was as good as they were.

    Walentyna’s mother was a talented seamstress who designed and made the beautiful evening dresses worn by many of the wealthy women in the city. She was welcomed into their homes not only as their seamstress, but because of her upbringing and quick wit she was also a delightful addition to their dinners and parties, and always brought along her distinguished and charming engineer husband.

    Winters were long and hard, but didn’t matter when heat, good food and warm clothes were available. Each winter Walentyna’s mother would check to see if last year’s coat and boots were still usable, and if not, new ones would be bought or made. When Walentyna turned twelve, she was given a beautiful fur muff and matching hat for her birthday that January. They were made of gray and white fur and delighted the twelve year old who thought she looked like a czarina in them. She had seen similar pieces worn by the wealthy women in the city and she liked to imagine that she was related to the families who owned beautiful horses and carriages and lived in grand houses.

    Her father traveled often as part of his job and would be gone several weeks at a time. Each trip also meant that he would return with gifts for her and her mother, and although she missed him when he was gone, she was also delighted with the gifts he brought back.

    Walentyna found both of her parents easy to live with, but she adored her father. She loved his sense of humor and was delighted to work on the math and engineering challenges he gave her to solve. She enjoyed using her mind, much more than she enjoyed doing the things her mother taught her. Her least favorite activity was to do the fine work that was part of any seamstress’s efforts. Sitting for hours hemming or finishing buttonholes was tedious, and pent up energy would eventually make her fidget so badly that her mother would get distracted and suggest that Walentyna should go outside for a while.

    The spring after she turned fourteen her father told her that he had managed to get her an interview with the dean to apply for going to the ‘Gymnasium’. It was the first year she was old enough, and with the education her father had given her at home, she would easily pass the tests to enroll. She would spend the next 6 years at the school getting the technical education she needed before going on to a university to get an engineering degree. When she responded with eagerness and excitement, he warned her.

    This may not happen. There have never been any girls at this school, but this year they are thinking of accepting a few. It will not be easy, or fun. The boys will give you a hard time. But the worst time will come from the teachers.

    From the teachers? Why?

    Because they don’t believe that girls belong there. They will try to prove that you are stupid and not able to do the schoolwork.

    But I’m not stupid and I’m better than a lot of the boys.

    That may be, but no one knows or believes that except the two of us. All the boys will believe that they are better and smarter than you are.

    But that’s not fair!

    Of course it’s not. But that is the truth and you should be aware of it before you decide to apply.

    But, father, I have to do this. I have to go to school and learn to be an engineer.

    Her father sighed. Yes, I know, and I’ll help you as much as I can.

    The appointment was several weeks off and her father spent many hours each week testing as well as teaching her how to act at the school. When she got frustrated he would tell her, Walentyna, there will always be someone smarter than you and you need to give others a chance. If no one raises their hand immediately, then slowly raise your hand, like you are not positive of the answer, but you are willing to try.

    But what if I am positive?

    Do it anyway. When the teacher calls on you, don’t just blurt out the answer. Make it seem that you are thinking hard about it, maybe guessing a little.

    But that’s so silly and it’s not true.

    It may be silly, but if this is important to you then you will need to adjust to make it work.

    Walentyna went to the appointment with her father, and on the walk home her father told her how proud he was of how she had handled herself. She was probably the first woman to ever attend this engineering school. Walentyna was not quite as happy.

    That man was horrible! He treated me like I was an idiot and a child. He talked down to me and at one point I thought he would reach over and pat me on the head!

    Walentyna, that man is head of the school but you will probably never see him again. He is not one of the teachers. So it doesn’t matter whether you like him or not. He was the one person keeping you from coming to this school and he liked you and has admitted you. That should be all you care about.

    But what if the teachers are just like him?

    If they are then you will have to practice everything we talked about. And, you may have to be just as polite and careful as you were today.

    But I can’t do that forever!

    If you want to go to this school you will need to do it for as long as it takes to graduate.

    Father, you make it sound terrible—like it’s a life and death situation.

    If you don’t succeed at this school, then you will grow up like all the women around you. You have said that you would rather die than be kept at home, sewing and doing women’s things.

    Oh, father, you know I’m not happy doing those things, but this almost sounds worse. For many years I will be required to act like someone I’m not and to pretend that I don’t have a good brain, when I know I do.

    Instead of seeing this as a false pretense, why not see this as practice for being the powerful and capable woman that you will be one day? You will soon be starting the school you have talked about for years and we have many things to do to get you ready. Let’s go home and share the news with your mother.

    I don’t think mother will be very happy. She thinks I should be staying home with her to learn good wifely skills so that I can marry a good man.

    Your mother wants what is best for you. She realizes that you are not like the other girls. She herself can barely read or do math. I’m sure that you’ll be a great student and do well—as long as you remember how to behave.

    When school started Walentyna discovered she was one of only two girls in the school of 60 boys. The other girl was very smart, smarter than Walentyna, and didn’t seem to care what the boys thought. Walentyna wanted to be just like her and say what she thought, but kept her father’s warnings in mind.

    When the first quarter ended, she had done well and had good marks in all her subjects and her father was both pleased and relieved. At the start of the second quarter, she discovered that she was now the only girl in the school. The other girl had not come back and no one seemed to know why, but Walentyna believed that her father must have been right and that the other girl must have been dismissed because she didn’t fit in.

    Shortly after Walentyna’s fifteenth birthday, her father told them that he had a long trip coming. He would be going to America on a special trip and would be gone for about three months, maybe more.

    Three months! What will you be doing in America?

    This is just like all my other trips, but this is just so much further away. It will take a long time to get there and back.

    Once her father had gone it seemed that her mother was stricter that she had been before.

    Walentyna, I would like you to stay home and spend time on your schoolwork.

    But, mother, I just want to go skating with my friends. It has always been all right before. Nothing has changed.

    Just for today, I would like you to stay home.

    After several of these occasions, Walentyna started to get angry and resentful.

    Why do I have to stay home? If father were here he would allow me to go!

    Her mother looked at the young woman and decided it was time to have a talk.

    Walentyna, go make tea for us and I have something I would like to discuss with you.

    Her tone and manner were unusual and Walentyna was curious enough to do as her mother asked. When they sat down her mother filled her in on being a woman, with womanly responsibilities and risks. They talked about the boys at the school, especially the ones that seemed to have become very good friends with Walentyna, walking her home and buying her little gifts. They talked about growing up and having husbands and having babies.

    Some of these things were things that Walentyna had wondered about, but some shocked her, and as before, she rebelled against what seemed unfair.

    Why are boys allowed to behave badly and it’s the women who get punished?

    Walentyna, I don’t agree with the way things are. I just know that this is the way it must be. I love you, my sweet girl, and I don’t want you to be hurt.

    Walentyna now saw the boys around her in a new light and began a thoughtful appraisal of them. She saw that they were hoping to persuade her more often into hugging and kissing than she had realized. After several weeks of thought and observation, she needed another talk with her mother.

    When Walentyna offered to make tea so that they could talk, her mother was worried.

    So, what do you need to talk about?

    Well, I’m a little puzzled by some things. You told me about the boys and I have been analyzing them.

    Analyzing them! What do you mean?

    I have just been watching and listening to them, and I find that they act one way with each other, and a different way with me. It makes me feel uncomfortable as they seem to talk down to me, but they also don’t want to talk to me about serious things. They just want to talk about eating and going skating, but not about the things we’re learning in school.

    But that should not be a problem. You certainly enjoy eating and I thought skating was a favorite activity.

    Yes, I like both of those things, but that’s not the point. I would like to discuss the technical side of what we’re learning, but when I join a group they begin to tease me and they won’t get serious.

    Do you need help with your schoolwork? Is that why you want them to be serious?

    No, I don’t need help. I just have ideas and the boys share ideas with each other, but they don’t allow me to do it.

    Walentyna, you can’t forget that you’re a girl. And these boys only know girls that they meet at home. Those girls don’t want them to talk about school; they want to talk about other things.

    But I’m not like those girls!

    Yes, you are, or you should be. Girls usually have different interests than boys. You need to find some girls to spend time with.

    I already have girl friends, but sometimes they’re a bit silly. And none of them go to school, so they’re not interested in what I’m learning at school.

    What about your friend Anna?

    Anna is very nice and fun to be with. She is a very interesting person, but it’s not the same as being accepted by the boys at school.

    The fact that the boys tease you means that you are accepted. If you weren’t, then the boys would ignore you or play pranks. Do they play pranks?

    Walentyna sighed. No, they don’t play pranks. They just make faces, tease me and sometimes give me silly notes.

    Those are all normal things. You’re growing up and soon you will take those things seriously. For now, enjoy them and spend more time with your girl friends. It will be better for you.

    2

    Three months went quickly and they received a message that her father was on his way home. Walentyna had been keeping a journal as she knew her father would want to hear how school was going and she didn’t want to forget anything. She had learned to curb her desire to move through her lessons quickly and had settled in, doing just as her father had suggested. The boys enjoyed her competitiveness and enjoyed presenting her with challenges, in the hopes that she would fail. When she did fail, they found her just as determined as they were to do better the next time. Walentyna began to feel that she had become one of them.

    Walentyna’s teachers had granted her a day off from school so that she could be home when her father arrived. She waited all morning and finally she could hear him at the door, thanking someone for helping him with his luggage. She threw open the door, fully intending to fling herself at him and give him a big hug, but the way he looked stopped her.

    Father, welcome home, but are you all right?

    I’m fine my girl. Come here and give me a hug.

    Walentyna hugged him and even through the coat could feel how thin he had become. She helped him with his luggage and the other bags he had, then helped him off with his coat.

    Please sit down, Father. Would you like some tea?

    Tea would be wonderful. Thank you. Where’s your mother?

    I’ll get you some tea and I’ll tell mother you’re here.

    They had tea with him but his obvious fatigue kept them from showing the excitement they both felt. He seemed better after the tea, but got up slowly from the chair.

    I’m sorry to cut this party short, but I am very tired and need to go to bed. He headed slowly down the hall

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