Sunday
10Feb
Feb 10, 2008 at 08:05AM
"A little girl I am whisked away. All together, Mama, Papa and Babushka (grandma) board a plane to who knows where. We all land safely, on some ground. I ask “Is this where we are moving to?”
“No, dear not yet, this is where we wait.” I am told.
Wait? Alright then, it is a lovely place. Near the beach we stay with Senora Maria. They don’t speak my language here, I quickly realize. They speak Italian, we are in Lodispoli, somewhere south of Rome, Mama tells me. There are children there and they are friendly, we play outside, mostly on the beach and I learn “ciao” and many new words as I play each day. I understand them soon enough and they laugh when I say something funny in Italian but they help me and I learn.
Three months fly by and the wait is over, we must board another plane. Babushka is tired and somewhat ill; she seems scared as mama and papa explain that we have the “Visa’s” whatever those are, but they are happy so I know it must be a good thing. As the plane lands safely once again I ask “Is this where we are going to live?” Mama says yes while busy making sure our parcels are all there." Please continue reading
Goodbye Russia.
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