“We will make a quilt to help us always remember home.” Anna’s mother said. Then from a basket of old clothes she took Uncle Vladimir’s shirt, Aunt Havalah’s nightdress, and an apron of Aunt Natasha’s. After her mother had sewn her new one, she took her old dress and babushka. The only things she had left of backhome Russia were her dress and babushka she liked to throw up into the air when she was dancing.Īnd her dress was getting too small. Her parents almost never learned, so she spoke English for them, too. When Anna went to school, English sound to her like pebbles dropping into shallow water. But all the same it was their home, and most of their neighbors were just like them. In New York City, her father’s work was hauling things on a wagon, and the rest of the family made artificial flowers all day.Įveryone was in a hurry, and it was so crowded, not like back home Russia. But her family weren’t dirt farmers anymore. When my Great-Gramma Anna came to America, she wore the same thick overcoat and big boots she had worn for farm work.
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