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

I found a pail with food. Her care for me saved my life. I learned that Gods ways are wondrous. I still correspond with this sister who is eighty-five years old now. When I was freed from the mines, I was immediately drafted into the Work Army. We went to work on the railway. It was hard work trying to keep twenty kilometers of track free from snow which sometimes reached the height of the houses. As I was not very strong, I was given the task of heating, maintaining and cleaning the mens barracks. This was most beneficial for me and I was able to recover. When the Work Army was dissolved I hoped to return home, but all my pleadings and tears were to no avail. In the north they would not allow any women under forty-five or any men under fifty to leave. I was sent to work for an official and his small family, consisting of his wife and two children. I found it hard to work there because I thought of my own children alone at home. REMINISCENCES 39 Then I received a letter informing me that my sister had died. “Why, Lord?” I asked. “Why does everything have to be so diffi¬ cult? Why do I have to be away from home so long?” After several months my employers travelled to Moscow. Now I began going to the authorities, begging them to allow me to return home. I was told that I should bring my family here. I would not hear of it, because there were many murders here and the situation was dangerous. In addition to this the long cold winter with no sun was fast approaching. It was already August and the last ship was to leave at the end of the month. The ship sailed only two or three times during the summer before the river froze. I even went to the commandant requesting permission to return home to my family. Each time I petitioned him, he refused, explaining that there were five months remaining before I turned forty-five. Again and again the answer the official gave me was, “No, I can’t, I’m not allowed.” I was deeply discouraged and full of despair. My faith in God van¬ ished. I cried and worried and, hardly knowing what I was doing one day, found myself walking on the railway tracks with a train bearing down on me. The engineer pulled the train whistle over and over again to get my attention. Someone shouted out to me, but I took no notice. I kept thinking, “Another whole year! An¬ other terrible winter and another entire year!” Suddenly I heard a man shouting, “Get off the track, the train is behind you!” The engi¬ neer pulled the whistle again and I was terror-stricken. I had only enough time to jump off the track as the train rushed past.... In humility, I returned to the barracks, fell on my knees and asked God for forgiveness. I prayed for the strength to submit to his will, and to believe that his way was the best for me. As I fell asleep that night, I dreamt that my father came and asked me, “Well, my dear child, how are things?” “Oh Father,” I replied, “they simply do not want to let me