I came from Czchoslovakia. My father was a teacher of history and my mother was a seamstress. My father taught me much about the history of our country and to be very proud. We would spend the long, cold winter nights in front of the fireplace, listening to my father tell Czeck. folk stories while my mother knit us warm sweaters. It was my parent's dream to come to America so that my father could teach me in an American school. But the Great War came, and my father had to go and fight. My mother waited for two years for some word from my father. Finally, we were notified that he had been killed. My mother decided to bring me to America. On the long ocean voyage my mother became ill and died. I arrived savely in New Yourk City and am happy to be alive. Nevertheless, I am homeless and very lonely... Nadia |
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