Author: Annie Mathies Krause
Note: the writer was born February 25, 1923 in Alexanderkrone, Molotschna, USSR. Annie died June 02, 1998 in Leamington, Ontario, Canada. Annie and Heinrich Wilhelm Krause were married April 18, 1942, at the Mennonite Church on Oak Street, Leamington. Annie’s siblings are Margaret Toews, Louise Ross, William 1925-1972, Harry 1931-1956, and Arthur.
The Early Years
There was something very scary about that hole in the ground. My earliest recollection, one of fear, must have been instilled at an early age for my protection. I was about three years of age, my hair cut by my father, a weekly routine, every Saturday night before a bath in the round tub on the floor in front of the warm stove sometimes heated by corn cobs. The same bath water served the whole family, and it went along with a bar of home-made soap that never seemed to bubble.
Our family was just one of many who had fled to this free country from Russia, after a revolution had destroyed many homes and killed a lot of our relatives and friends.
Our parents had once been prosperous landowners and now they had nothing except us, each other, and the Reiseschuld – travel debt – a promise to pay what they owed to the CPR for the trip to Canada.
Some wonderful people, the Leise’s, took us into their home in exchange for work in the fields by both our father and mother. This left us without much supervision. Could it be that we had a Guardian Angel watching over us? Mother prayed a lot.
Mother and Father
My father, Abram Johann Mathies, whom I saw as tall, dark and handsome, was never satisfied to stay too long at one place. We seemed to move a lot, and sometimes it was followed by an addition to the family. A foreign language, (I later learned to be Russian) was usually spoken the nights we were taken to stay with a cousin, and a new baby would be crying upon our return home.
Perhaps all of these extra responsibilities gave Papa his ulcers and Mamma her headaches, but despite it we had music in the home thanks to a second hand piano which Papa would play first thing in the morning in his underwear. Mother, closing the door to the kitchen behind her, would concentrate on what to feed us.
There was a lot of chicken soup made but never one that was made from a hen that could lay eggs. An old standby was cherry mousse, and when you’re hungry for meat, it leaves a sour taste in your mouth.
It didn’t seem to stunt my growth, especially my feet that turned inward when walking just like my Papa’s. As I grew old, I determined to set them straight, and have today what I laughingly refer to as a very good understanding – size 11.
I must have been around four years of age when we lived at Zacky Wigles. There was a little house on the yard where many of our Mennonite people had taken turns living in as they also strove to get ahead in the new land of opportunity. My sister started school here in Ruthven, as did Helen Janzen who stayed with us for a while since her mother, a widow, had to find work elsewhere.
A Close Call
There is one day that stands out because it could have been the last one for my brother William who was two years younger that I. We were running back and forth over some boards that covered a sewer. Mrs. Wigle, who was hanging up clothes outside, had just finished warning us about the danger of what we were doing when a board cracked, gave way, and my brother fell in.
He came up twice, and was about to go down for the third and last time when Mrs. Wigle – who had a huge goiter and found it difficult to bend over – just got him by the hair and woollen cap and managed to drag him over the edge.
Mother had heard the loud screaming that all the excitement had caused, but thought it was the usual noise we made over the cats. She was sitting by the sewing machine when we came in with our foul smelling brother who brought up that sewer water for days to come.
From Wigle’s, we moved to Broadwell’s, and my father was spraying the green apples one day as I watched and was warned not to eat them. Well, of course I had to try just one and did I get sick! Up until this day, an apple can still cause me problems.
Not far away at Inman, we moved again and lived with John Dicks on a farm that had the hardest ground my bare feet had ever walked upon. No wonder we couldn’t make a living there, but this is where I started school.
School Days
The teacher, Miss Blair, did not seem to like us immigrants very much, and I, not understanding what I was supposed to do, asked my sister who was sitting across from me. That did it! She pointed with her long ruler at the corner where I was supposed to stand. I went, but stood facing her. This brought out her anger even more, and the pointer almost got me as I turned to face the wall.
Thank goodness we moved again, this time to Fox’s at Olinda, where a Miss Balkwill, a young lady of 18, was the teacher. She took a great interest in us, and my sister Margaret and I were encourage to sing at various functions to which she would drive us. After this we were rewarded with the first banana split we’d ever eaten.
AK 2008
Note: Annie’s story – 10 pages – continues with her work days, the family’s purchase of a home, her marriage, life on Point Pelee, the founding of Faith Mennonite Church in Leamington, and retirement.
