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

ce to have the children and I spent much time with them. During the evenings I told them of their daddy again and again so that they would not forget him. After all a child forgets quickly and adapts to something new. I also told them many Bible stories and had them memorize songs as well as Bible verses. Our children told the neighbors children that I always told them stories in the evening and so they came and asked if they could listen. There was Neta, who was a milkmaid, and her neighbor Neta Wall who was a widow and had two children. Then there was Neta Enns (nee Braun). The three Netas lived together in a barn. There were our two children, two in the Wall family, two in the Enns family and Klara’s four children; ten in all. They came to our house every evening to hear the stories and stayed until 19:00 hours. The milkmaids returned at that time and the children went home. Our Heini was the youngest among them and always sat on my lap. These were always mine and the chil¬ dren’s happiest hours. After many years I met Leni Wall in exile. She was married to a Russian and very unhappy. She told me that she told her own children the stories which I had once told them. The children experienced so little joy and it gave me such pleasure to prepare a surprise for them at Christmas. When I told them, “Children, you are no longer to rummage in the closet be- 66 JOURNEYS cause Santa Claus is there,” they were overjoyed. We also had a Christmas tree and made our own decorations. It gave the chil¬ dren such happiness to help make the garlands. Marta loved to memorize long poems. Grandma Willms said they were too long for a child, but Marta was so eager to learn. They loved the stories of my childhood Christmases, when gifts were still abun¬ dant, best of all. I had to tell them again and again. On one such occasion the tears ran down my cheeks. When little Heini asked, “Justina, why are you crying?” I told him I longed for those lovely days. He was quite perplexed, “You mean grown¬ ups also get homesick?” The poor lad did not know how often my pillow was wet with tears of longing for the golden and beau¬ tiful period of my youth. In 1939 Jakob Baerg, his three year sentence finished, returned from exile. Heinrich had to suffer for another two years. Jakob Baerg told us a great many things about Heinrich. He had always been concerned about his family. We always thought if he only remained healthy he might regain his freedom .... During these years there were no services. I had a guitar and frequently played in the evenings. The children were so used to it that they could not go to sleep without guitar accompaniment and singing. It was always, “Justina play and sing!”. . . After Christmas in 1940 I went to Gnadenheim with the milk wagon and walked to Lena and our parents’ home [in Schoensee]. I was there for a week .... It was the last time I saw my mother. I left very early; it was dark and the