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Newsletter November 2022
  • January 18, 2023/
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JOURNAL 17
  • June 6, 2022/
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JOURNAL 16
  • May 10, 2022/
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  • March 21, 2022/
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JOURNAL 14
  • February 8, 2022/
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  • January 4, 2022/
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JOURNAL 12
  • December 5, 2021/
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Hope was all that kept us going.
I looked at the horizon for peace in the hills.
At the gate, everyone had papers.
I had nothing.
I couldn’t understand their language
but they gave me a bag of salt, a bag of rice, and oil,
one toothbrush, one soap, two buckets, I didn’t know why,
and bags of things I never saw before.
They called me Jane.
My mother named me for her mother.
My name was not Jane.
They wanted me to sign 
but I could not read this language
or this one
or this one.
I could not read this either
so they wrote my name.
These were my mother’s earrings.
I gave one to each daughter:
“Sell them only if you have to.”
The camp was crowded with strangers
and angry men.
I told my daughters to cover up. 
Finally they led us to a tent…
…for women who were alone.
There, I found someone who spoke my language.
She said “I’ve been here for years. In two years or five years
I don’t know where I’ll be. Only God knows.
“We need to survive with our children
so they can be something in the future.”
I had to be strong for so long.
Now I poured out everything to her.
It was the night before my daughter’s 10th birthday
when soldiers came to my door,
asking for my husband.
I said he died in the war.
Then they pushed me aside.
They threatened to take my daughter for a bride.
I screamed, “She’s only nine. Take me!”
As they forced me to the bedroom, I yelled,
“Turn up the TV very loud.”
They said they would be back for my daughter tomorrow.
The minute they were gone, I told the girls to pack
only what could fit in one suitcase.
I took my mother’s tiny gold earrings.
First we ran, then I gave a truck driver
all the money I had to take us to the border.
Then we walked, I don’t know how long.
I couldn’t feel my feet
and I was pregnant from the attack.
She said, “There is a good doctor here,
and you are not alone anymore.”
END OF CHAPTER FIVE

JOURNAL 11
  • November 4, 2021/
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Our first morning at sea
a mist rose over gentle waters.
We had made it through the night.
We were hungry, but we could keep going.
My friend caught a fish.
He divided it among the children
and gave some to my sister for her baby.
I saw her smile.
At the end of the first day
I thought we would be ok.
Our second day we saw lightning.
We turned away fast
but the waves came after us.
My wife held the children
and everyone hung on.
As long as I could, I hugged my sister.

THEN THE STORM HIT.
The wind tore my nephew from his father’s arms
and swept my sister into the sea.
My mother grabbed the baby.
I dove in after my sister.
…dark hair in dark water.
I reached for it, but the hair slipped from my fingers.
All night I kept diving for my sister’s hair.
I kept diving for her all night.
Our third day at sea
16 went to the dock.
On day 3, 13 kept going.
On the fourth day we saw land.
People came towards us from the shore.
We were afraid they would force us back to sea
but they were kind.
I wanted to scream across the sea
to everyone who died there.
Then a big white Land Cruiser came for us
and in the distance, we began to see…
We were strangers in a strange land
and we had to start our lives over.
END OF CHAPTER FOUR


*


This concludes the first half of the book.

JOURNAL 10
  • October 6, 2021/
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The day we left, the sea was calm.
My sister said the water was too dirty to drink
and she wanted to go find her husband.
My friend had a compass and he could help row.
We had to take our mothers,
and my grandparents
couldn’t survive alone.
My wife’s brother had lost everything
so they had to come too.
All we had was each other.
16 in my rowboat 
and it was getting dark
and the babies were crying.
My dog got scared and ran away.
I told myself he was safer on land.
It was night when we left the skeleton of the dock.


*
…to be continued…

JOURNAL 9
  • September 16, 2021/
  • Posted By : P. Douglas/
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The storm pushed into our door…
…and broke through our ceiling.
We escaped to the roof.
From up there we could see…
We saved only what mattered.
Our house was gone.
Everyone’s house was gone.
The dock was gone.
But children played on the boat
and I could get it ready.
I knew we had to leave.
END OF CHAPTER THREE
This story continues in Chapter Four

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Author

Pam Douglas

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