Mogilev-Podolsky, Ukraine
Moved in 1988
Moved in 1988
My name is Khana Stolyar. When the war began, I was four years old. We had a big and friendly Jewish family. Despite the fact that I was four years old, I remember that from the age of four to seven I was in a ghetto, which was in our town. It was a Jewish place in Ozarintsy.
Grandpa was a teacher. And I really wanted to be a teacher. I entered the Balti Pedagogical Institute, graduated, and then worked at school for forty years with great pleasure. I, in spite of the fact that there was a special attitude towards the Jews, of course, they mocked me, but I loved my job very much, the children loved me. I was also a curriculum specialist. And I should have already been awarded the title of the Honorary Teacher. But I was told that since I am Jewish, I would never be an Honorary Teacher.
Grandpa was a teacher. And I really wanted to be a teacher. I entered the Balti Pedagogical Institute, graduated, and then worked at school for forty years with great pleasure. I, in spite of the fact that there was a special attitude towards the Jews, of course, they mocked me, but I loved my job very much, the children loved me. I was also a curriculum specialist. And I should have already been awarded the title of the Honorary Teacher. But I was told that since I am Jewish, I would never be an Honorary Teacher.
In this video, Khana talks about the objects she brought
and reads a verse dedicated to fellow countrymen from the town of Ozarintsy
and reads a verse dedicated to fellow countrymen from the town of Ozarintsy
In 1993, when there was a large migration to America, a lot of people were leaving.
The first one to leave was my older sister with her family. And then she sent me an invitation, and my family and I came here.
To be honest, I didn't want to leave. I loved my job so much. I was departing from Dnepropetrovsk and almost the whole school saw me off! Well, there was just a parade on the platform, because I worked at the same school for many years, and everyone came to see me off, and it was very touching, very much.
Of course, it was terribly difficult in the beginning. We arrived with no money at all. But what saved me was the fact that I knew the Jewish language (Yiddish).
The first one to leave was my older sister with her family. And then she sent me an invitation, and my family and I came here.
To be honest, I didn't want to leave. I loved my job so much. I was departing from Dnepropetrovsk and almost the whole school saw me off! Well, there was just a parade on the platform, because I worked at the same school for many years, and everyone came to see me off, and it was very touching, very much.
Of course, it was terribly difficult in the beginning. We arrived with no money at all. But what saved me was the fact that I knew the Jewish language (Yiddish).
When we arrived, I went to the F.R.E.E. synagogue, there is such a synagogue, and asked them if they could give me some work, for someone, for elderly Americans who know the Jewish language, so I would speak with them. They connected me with one woman. She turned out to be a very good woman. And the family. And we spoke Jewish, I worked for her for many years. And thanks to her, now I’ve got, I cannot say that I’ve got an A in English, but I’ve got a solid D. But I did not study a single day, I learned from that woman. We spoke Jewish and English.
Now I am very pleased that both my great-grandchildren and all of us are sitting at the table and I am very happy. And my great-grandson is 14 years old, recently there was a Bar Mitzvah, there are photos in the synagogue where my boy in a kippah is so handsome and he looks at the prayer book that we brought with us, this is very important for me.
Now I am very pleased that both my great-grandchildren and all of us are sitting at the table and I am very happy. And my great-grandson is 14 years old, recently there was a Bar Mitzvah, there are photos in the synagogue where my boy in a kippah is so handsome and he looks at the prayer book that we brought with us, this is very important for me.
Mogilev-Podolsky, Ukraine
Moved in 1988
Moved in 1988
Florita is Khana Stolyar's daughter.
Below is a story written by Florita accompanied by family pictures brought as a keepsake.
Below is a story written by Florita accompanied by family pictures brought as a keepsake.
Bread Sprinkled with Sugar
My grandparents are from the Vinnitsa region. After the war, miraculously escaping death several times, surviving in the ghetto, they settled in the town of Mogilev-Podolsky.
Mogilev-Podolsky - "Molyf", as the locals fondly called it. A small, cozy green town that could be walked around in half a day. The Dniester River, deep and fast. Good swimmers could cross it and be on the other side of the river in Ataki, a Moldavian town, where Moldovans, Roma people, Jews, and Ukrainians lived. A colorful town with the taste of Moldovan grapes, will be remembered for a lifetime.
And Mogilev-Podolsky lived its slow paced life... A synagogue, church, market, community art center, two cinemas, and the only park in the town with white columns and an arch.
I was always amazed by the neatly trimmed evergreen bushes, which were very much looked after.
The date and month of the current year were written with flowers next to the entrance to the park. And every day the date made of flowers changed.
The 60s, early 70s. A brass band played in the park. We walked along the path, passing by an open summer theater, chess players playing right on benches in the park, a fountain with a sculpture of a thin and delicate girl.
There were rides at the back of the park. There were not many of them: a Ferris wheel, boats, chain swings and a merry-go-round. We, children, climbed onto the Ferris wheel and as we went higher and higher, we were trying to make out the houses of our grandparents. But it was impossible, because the town was buried in greenery! Music from the dance floor reached our house in the evenings.
In our house it was warm and cozy and smelled of delicious "makhulym" (Jewish dishes), which were cooked in the wood stove and on a primus stove. Grandmother was sewing on her old Singer sewing machine. Grandfather lay on a little couch in the yard and sang Jewish songs softly. His eyes were closed. One hand under his head, and the other lifting up, as if he were telling something to someone, not singing.
There were two houses on a small plot of land. My grandparents lived in one, and my beloved aunt Feera and uncle Lyova lived in the other. Their home was my second home. I stopped by when I wanted, I could play with what I wanted. They didn’t refuse me anything and tried to feed me all the time.
Grandma and Aunt Feera organized amazing birthdays for me! They baked my favorite pies with cherries, bagels, and sweet sausage. How much kindness, devotion to love, and warmth were invested in all this! All my friends were invited regardless of nationality, their parents or the absence of ones. All the children were treated kindly in my family's house. And I learned love, kindness, generosity, decency and hospitality, admiring the culture of their behavior, patience and devotion.
My grandmother sewed to everyone who came to our house. Many people were poor, they could not pay and brought some trinkets, or something from their garden, or a piece of cloth. The grandmother did not say no to anyone. She was called a modiste, because she knew how to come up with a style and make chic things from different fabric pieces. Everyone loved my grandmother very much, and they respected my grandfather and came to him for advice. He was very wise, kind, and generous. To give things or money with Warm hands, to Bestow and to Give Joy - this was his profound wisdom!
There were two houses on a small plot of land. My grandparents lived in one, and my beloved aunt Feera and uncle Lyova lived in the other. Their home was my second home. I stopped by when I wanted, I could play with what I wanted. They didn’t refuse me anything and tried to feed me all the time.
Grandma and Aunt Feera organized amazing birthdays for me! They baked my favorite pies with cherries, bagels, and sweet sausage. How much kindness, devotion to love, and warmth were invested in all this! All my friends were invited regardless of nationality, their parents or the absence of ones. All the children were treated kindly in my family's house. And I learned love, kindness, generosity, decency and hospitality, admiring the culture of their behavior, patience and devotion.
My grandmother sewed to everyone who came to our house. Many people were poor, they could not pay and brought some trinkets, or something from their garden, or a piece of cloth. The grandmother did not say no to anyone. She was called a modiste, because she knew how to come up with a style and make chic things from different fabric pieces. Everyone loved my grandmother very much, and they respected my grandfather and came to him for advice. He was very wise, kind, and generous. To give things or money with Warm hands, to Bestow and to Give Joy - this was his profound wisdom!
Aunt Feera, caring for my grandmother’s old sisters, probably did not even suspect that she taught me to treat elderly people with respect and patience and take care of them.
The images of those people whom I loved so much in childhood were clearly preserved in my memory for all my life. I see these family faces and hear their voices. I remember the flowers, bushes and trees that grew in my grandmother's yard, the atmosphere in the house, the smells...
Oh, those smells of chicken broth, roast, baked pies. I have never eaten anything tastier. Either these were some of their own secrets, or the products were different? I have been trying to repeat these dishes all my life.
When I was little, I ate poorly and they always ran after me with a plate, trying to feed. But in my childhood there was a favorite delicacy - bread and butter. And so that I could at least eat something I was given bread and butter with grapes, bread and butter with jam, with watermelon, with chicken lard, and at night - bread with butter sprinkled with sugar to make the dream sweet.
When I can't sleep at night, I get out of bed, go to the kitchen, spread butter on bread, sprinkle with sugar and eat slowly, absorbing all the good that was in my childhood associated with those who, in spite of everything, knew how to live, create, rejoice without teaching, teach and love...
My dear ones! Thank you for everything!
Dedicated to my dear people - grandfather Abram Ilyich Stolyar, grandmother - Khaya Borukhovna Entina. To my mother's sister - aunt Feera and her husband Lev Moiseevich Strelchin. To my grandmother's neighbor and friend - Riva Lvovna Weizman and her daughter Sofochka. To uncle Mar Blank.
The images of those people whom I loved so much in childhood were clearly preserved in my memory for all my life. I see these family faces and hear their voices. I remember the flowers, bushes and trees that grew in my grandmother's yard, the atmosphere in the house, the smells...
Oh, those smells of chicken broth, roast, baked pies. I have never eaten anything tastier. Either these were some of their own secrets, or the products were different? I have been trying to repeat these dishes all my life.
When I was little, I ate poorly and they always ran after me with a plate, trying to feed. But in my childhood there was a favorite delicacy - bread and butter. And so that I could at least eat something I was given bread and butter with grapes, bread and butter with jam, with watermelon, with chicken lard, and at night - bread with butter sprinkled with sugar to make the dream sweet.
When I can't sleep at night, I get out of bed, go to the kitchen, spread butter on bread, sprinkle with sugar and eat slowly, absorbing all the good that was in my childhood associated with those who, in spite of everything, knew how to live, create, rejoice without teaching, teach and love...
My dear ones! Thank you for everything!
Dedicated to my dear people - grandfather Abram Ilyich Stolyar, grandmother - Khaya Borukhovna Entina. To my mother's sister - aunt Feera and her husband Lev Moiseevich Strelchin. To my grandmother's neighbor and friend - Riva Lvovna Weizman and her daughter Sofochka. To uncle Mar Blank.
