Memory Verse: “Unless the Lord builds the house, its builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchmen stand guard in vain.” (Psalm 127:1)

Dear Grandchildren,

Do you know that my mother once built a little house for us all by herself? She walked many miles from the village where my father was born to the county courthouse to plead her cause. She knew that some of the land belonged rightfully to the children of her late husband, but his family wanted to keep it all themselves and would not give any to us. She walked 26 miles to see the judge. At first the family agreed to give her only one acre of land. She was glad to get this one acre of land, but it took her some years before they gave her five acres.

While she had that one acre, she also decided to build a little hut on it where she and my sister Olga and I lived for awhile. I am sure that some good neighbors helped her put up the little building, but I distinctly remember her standing on top of the roof and Olga and I handing her some of the bundles of straw with which she made the roof.

This hut was very, very small. It contained only one room. In it there was a typical Russian stove which served as an oven, furnace, or a kiln. We slept on the part that was made especially for that purpose, right over the oven.

Another thing that we had was a bed made of straight boards on which was some straw for a mattress. I don’t remember what kind of covering we had, but I’m quite sure that we didn’t have nice, warm blankets. There was also a little bench on which was a bucket of water drawn from the well. Beside the bucket was a small basin in which we washed ourselves. Then the last thing which was in this little room was a small table with one chair. We sat either on the bed, or on the “pichka,” which in Russian means the oven or the stove. There was no floor made of boards, it was a dirt floor. Sometimes we even saw a few little critters scampering around on it. There were two very small windows and a small door. We lived in it for several months before we went to live in the orphanage.

Many times our mother would have to leave us alone. She would tell us not to let anybody in, no matter who it was. When she returned from a day’s work or from the courthouse 26 miles away, we would have big stories to tell her!

I remember when we went with my mother to the woods to gather wood for our fuel. She carried the wood on her back and we made several trips to the woods and back home again. We carried only a few little sticks, but she would tie her bundle of a large size and would carry it on her back. By the time an evening came, she’d have some supply for a few cold days stored next to our house. But, we didn’t keep this wood very long. Somebody came during the night and stole all of the wood from the side of the house. I remember my mother crying. She didn’t cry in front of us very often, but she could not contain herself on that day. She was fairly sure who might have done that, but she had no witnesses who could see those thieves stealing from a widow with two small children. Besides, it was not the last time that a thing like that happened. It was only the beginning. But since our land was bordering with the land of our father’s relatives, they did many mean tricks to us to spite my mother for reclaiming some of the land that belonged to my father and which was in possession of his family.

—Grandma Nadzia

Questions

What do you think about the cruel people who refused to give Nadzia’s mother her land? How do you think God felt about that? (See Isaiah 10:1-4.)

Nadzia had straw for a bed, a bucket for a bath, and one chair. Can you think of things that you have that she didn’t? Thank God for those things today!

Do you think, as the Psalmist said, that God helped Nadzia’s mother build and defend her house? What if God did not watch over them?