Survivors Every One

Oma rarely told stories about their former lives, she dwelt in the present. Humble, gentle, patient and kind, she looked nothing like the image of a rich farmer’s wife. Short and rotund with a long silver grey braid curled up in a bun at the back of her neck, Oma always wore a house dress covered by a bib apron and a babushka over her hair. Opa, on the other hand, was arrogant, a once-wealthy patriarch, forced to leave his beloved homeland for an unknown land and future. Coming to Canada destitute in 1925 was a blow to his psyche; a change he couldn’t accept.

Re-building their lives in Canada was not a simple proposition. Opa, having had the wealth to secure a life of leisure and the means to buy whatever he desired, didn’t care to live any other way. He learned many painful lessons in this new life as a result of purchases he made without having adequate resources. Unlike her husband, being poor and working hard for her livelihood were things Oma understood. She had been a house servant in Opa’s family home before they were married. Once in Canada, Opa set out to re-create a life he controlled. Ruling his home and farm with an iron fist, he made all the decisions about how he and his family would live. His was the last word on all discussions while Oma kept her silence. Theirs was a classic division of labour: he worked in the fields with his sons and she was responsible for maintaining the home and feeding the family.

Oma’s formal education had ended after grade school. She read and wrote both German and Russian but never became literate in the English language. The language of the home was German, and that was sufficient for Oma. Opa, who assumed the role of sole negotiator with the outside world, spoke passable English and told her what she needed to know. She didn’t go anywhere without him and he spoke for her. She had full and total control only of her kitchen and all the food types that entered it.

Oma’s fruit and vegetable garden, adjacent to the house, supplied carrots, green onions, peppers, squash, watermelon, summer savoury, and dill weed for her kitchen. She lovingly tended the giant sunflower plants so she could ensure Opa’s supply of roasted sunflower seeds, his favourite snack,. Apple, pear, apricot and mulberry trees growing along the farm lanes provided luscious snacks for my sister and me to steal. There was more than enough left for Oma to preserve for the winter. She also tended a rock garden which she filled with many varieties of brightly coloured perennial flowers. A white washed wooden arbor standing as entrance to both gardens, was completely covered by the vines of red rose bushes growing up from the arbor’s base. They climbed up and over, across and down the arch. We little girls imagined this to be the entrance to the Garden of Eden.