JOURNEYS Mennonite Stories of Faith and Survival in Stalins Russia, John B. Toews, 1998

used to allow this. An urgent letter arrived: “Anna, if help doesn’t come soon, I shall die for I am already in the hospital.” In my despair, I turned to prayer. Although I was not allowed to send a package to my husband, I was allowed to send money. However, I learned that the money I sent never reached him. A month later I received word that he had died of starvation on July 26, 1942. This was very painful for me because as long as he was alive, even though he was not at home, I could still pray for him and focus my thoughts on him. I knew that he had felt the same way about us too. This interces¬ sory prayer had helped us in coping with the long separation from each other. Now I was a widow, alone in these difficult times. We cannot understand our Lord at times, but I am so thankful for all His ways. I must return to the time when I was with the children for a few days because of illness. Although I was not yet well, I felt that I had to go back to work on the canal or face imprisonment. My daughter Frieda came running home with the news that the chair¬ man (‘president’ as we called him) and the village soviet had come to the beet field announcing that whoever stayed home would not be punished. She said to me, “Mother, you don’t have to worry about going back, we can work together in the beet field and the responsibility will be theirs.” How stupid and inexperienced we were to believe this. For another ten days, I, along with several women from the canal who had been given leave to return home at the same time I had been, stayed to work in the beet fields. As a result of this we were all arrested and imprisoned in one room for five months. The room which was built to hold twenty people, now held forty-three. We were pressed together like sardines and not allowed to go outside. It was summertime and the heat was unbearable. We sat in the Frunze prison from July to the first of December, when we were released. We were thin and ailing because we had only received REMINISCENCES 37 400 grams of bread per day and it contained clay or something like that. With our rations of bread and hot water, we were so emaciated we could hardly walk. On the morning of our release we were forced to walk the long distance to our barracks, with the police prodding us for the entire journey. Some women sat down repeatedly and eventually I too could walk no further. I was supported and dragged the last stretch of the way. It was dreadfully cold when we arrived at our barracks in the evening, and the gates were closed. It had rained and snowed throughout the day and our footwear had fallen off. By the time we reached the gates to our barracks we were standing barefoot in the snow. When I awoke the next morning, I found myself lying in the mud at the feet of several women who were completely soaked to the skin. As I could not think clearly, I was not sure if I had fainted or not. A few women were able to work bu