My dear Victoria,

It’s me…. Molly. Sorry that I haven’t written to you for so long time. I had lost your new address when we moved to Chicago and I couldn’t find it till now. I hope, you are still alive and you are happy. It has been long 50 years, since I told you “Goodbye”.

I want to tell you my story. I remember everything like it was yesterday. It was late 1916. I was a little girl. I was only 12. I loved my country and I considered that I lived in the most stunning city in the world. Vienna was the city of my dreams. Now I have feeling of nostalgia for the city where I have grown up. Unfortunately, my childhood wasn’t peaceful. World War I broke out when I was 10. My parents decided to flee from the war. They didn’t like to plan something in advance, so it was spontaneous decision. We had to take refuge in the U.S.A. From the moment of leaving home we were refugees. We moved from my native country. My family was sailing on a huge ferry to “A Big Apple”. It was a new milestone in my life. The ferry set sail at night. I was terrified, but at the same time I was keen on it. My family went on a trip. The smell of the ocean was sharp and unusual filled my nose. We had to dock in New York in 5 days. 

When we disembarked, we had to go to Ellis Island’s Great Hall. There were a few health inspections, who were watching us if we looked too sick to enter the country. There was “eye man” who turned up my eyelids and looked for any eye diseases, but it was fast. Then we got to our house where we met your friendly big family. All neighbours lived at peace with each other. My family got accustomed to our new lifestyle as fast as we could. We lived in the house with other 17 families from different countries. It was like five floors of cultural diversity. My parents bought a stove because there wasn’t it in the flat and also we could hit water on it. There was only cold water, but we had light and it was huge benefit. We had 3 rooms and only 2 beds. I slept on chairs. Your family did their bit with the cooking: you showed us how to cook burekas. In a few days I went to school with your brothers . My elder brother became a newsier because he finished school in Austria-Hungary. I didn’t feel any animosity towards me among pupils, but I couldn’t get the hang of using English, it was deadlock for me. After lessons I had opportunity to go for a wander around Manhattan and chill out a bit among buildings which retained the marvellous charm of old borough. I loved to laze around on the bench in a unique park or wander along cobbled streets lined with trees and houses. After that I went home and did some house chores. I swept and mopped the floor. Frankly speaking, it was difficult. I even couldn’t imagine how you did it after 10 people. Also, once or twice I did laundry, but it wasn’t work for little girl. I remember how you went with me  to Nickelodeon to watch films or listen to foxtrot. We wore aprons from your father’s workshop. My brother often played stickball with yours. It was good old days.

I hope to meet you soon. You are my friend forever.

With best wishes
Molly