Anna's Story: A Romance
A Saga of the Polish in America: 1919-1939
by
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Chapter 1 1919 It was a spring day, gentle and soft. The sky overhead was a blue umbrella without a cloud and under her bare feet the grass was already soft and green. She felt like a bird or a rabbit let loose from its cage. It had been a long confinement. Winter in that dingy house, too small for all of them: Ojciec, Matka, Casimir, Eduard, the babies Marta and Marusz, and of course, herself and Babka. Babka, what would life have been without her grandmother.. The house was small as a thimble and filled with smells: burning wood, cooking cabbage, drying meat, and wet babies. Only the drying herbs and Babka’s plants relieved the strong acrid odor that clung to the bare walls and the straw-covered floor. And sometimes the animals, Casimir’s goat and Eduard’s pet chickens had to come in from the cold. But today all that was forgotten. Forgotten the harsh winter winds that had come sweeping in over the land from the Russian plains. Forgotten the heavy snows and the slashing rain and the frozen rivers and lakes. Father Frost, the old folks had said, was punishing man and beast alike. The punishment was over. The storks had returned. It was spring. Anna felt giddy. The Vistula was open again and the logging season had begun. Ojciec had taken Casimir and Eduard with him and they would be gone for a fortnight working in the Count’s camp. Matka had taken the twins with her when she had gone to attend Rosa Kowalski whose time it was. Matka’s skill as a midwife was well known. Babka had pushed Anna out of the door. "Go, little Lalaka, enjoy the sun," the old woman urged her granddaughter. "Come with me, Babka," Anna begged. "No, not yet. Soon, soon we will go for the mushrooms." And Babka had curled up on the granite shelf that extended out from the hearth and served as her bed. In minutes, she was fast asleep and snoring. Anna was free. She began to run and let the wind gently slap at her flying arms and legs. Her hair whirled around her face. She was alone with the wind and the sky and the sun. As a child, she remembered running through the meadows trying to catch the wind. She had been a difficult child, always asking annoying questions that puzzled her family who made her feel different: ‘the different one’ they would call her and nudge one another to maker the point. She had now left the fields that ran behind her house. Soon the rye would be tall. Rye waving in the wind; it was the most beautiful sight, prettier than roses. She stopped to catch her breath. Ahead of her lay the lake, mirror still. Edging toward its shore, she gingerly tried the water with one foot. Ay, the water was freezing. She waded in and bending down, cupped a handful of water and plunged her face into its icy depth. Her face tingled. Exhilarated, she left the lake and ran toward the forest: it was the Count’s land but the village folk hunted there for deer and here she came with Babka. She had started coming to these woods as a child and patiently Babka had taught her how to hunt for mushrooms the way one hunts for an animal. "No respectable soup can be made without mushrooms, Anna." "Yes, Babka." "Now look, child," and Babka hobbled in her clumsy long skirt and with surprising skill bent down to the base of the shade trees where the mushrooms clung in warm clusters. "They must be firm, child, and young," her grandmother would caution. Babka would fill her apron in minutes and then cup her treasures, holding them close to her chest. Anna’s eyes misted thinking of her; there was enough love between the two to compensate for the rest of the family who had no time to think of love. The trees loomed ahead dark and conspiring, their branches intertwining like the arms of young girlfriends. The silence of the woods touched her and her mood changed to a fearful quiet. Had she been foolish to come so far alone? There were so many stories of devils parading in German clothes. "Old wives’ tales," she assured herself. She closed her eyes and embraced a young birch. It was so good to be away from all the bickering voices and hot tempers of her family. For a long time, she stayed glued to the birch, until the rhythmic beat of horses' hooves stirred her. She opened her eyes and she saw him approach. "I frightened you," the horseman spoke softly. She stared unabashedly at the intruder, forgetting the chill that had gripped her at the sound of his approach. He was real and his voice was real and he was bronze from the sun. His eyes were blue, no, blue-grey, and his nose was straight. His horse was golden, too. Her eyes grew wide and a warning signal told her to run, but she couldn’t move. "Did I frighten you?" he repeated. "No. Yes. No." She tried to shake her head. "Who are you out here alone? Are you a wood nymph?" he teased. He talked oddly, a bit like the young village priest. But not like the young men she knew. "No," and then some mischief pushed her tongue. "I am Cinderella." He began to laugh and the tension in her broke and she began to laugh and the laughter echoed through the woods. And that was how it all began.
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About the Book
This is Anna’s Story. It begins is a small town in Eastern Massachusetts in the mid ’30s and then there is a flashback to Anna in her small village in Poland circa 1919 after the war. Her meeting with the aristocrat Jan leads to a heady love affair and a deep despondency when Jan leaves for university studies. An omniscient Babka, the grandmother, fearing only the worst because of the sharp class differences between the two young people, plots to save her beloved granddaughter from impending heartbreak. A wedding to Anna to Stash, the silent one, is quickly arranged by Babka. The two, Anna and Stash, are immediately shipped to the United States to live with the Aunt, Ciotka Janina. The book continues with Anna’s experience, first in Hadleigh at the aunts’ farm, and then the move to Boughtonville, the mill town where we first see Anna. The book depicts the hard work in the fields and in the mills. It depicts the fight for the dream of a better life for the children born in a new place, and the repetition of history. Anna’s son is extraordinarily handsome and young women are attracted to him as is one of the Boughtons, of the Boughton mill dynasty. The class struggle is repeated in America as it was in Poland where Anna’s first love was Jan, a Count. Beauty is a problem for Anna and her son. Jan returns to the story: There is a reunion. Life changes drastically for Anthony and for Anna there is a new crisis to face. The story ends on the eve of the outbreak of World War II in 1939.
About the Author
Esther Budgar follows the snow geese to Florida each November. There she watches spectacular sunsets and enjoys an anonymity. In the spring, she becomes a "Townie" in Northhampton, Massachusetts where most of the residents know her by name, for once they sat in her English classes. She has "scribbled" all her life, beginning at eleven as a regular contributor to the children’s page of the Worcester evening post. Her children's plays appear in One Hundred Best Plays for Children, edited by Burack and Fifty Plays for Juniors by Sylvia Kammerman. For many years, she was a regular contributor to the daily Hampshire Gazette and Hampshire Life. Anna’s Story represents the longest period of concentration, and is based on early childhood memories of row houses and factory whistles.