Tales from the Past
My grandmother, 1869 – 1941, from a sketch by my father
My Grandmother
She was my grandmother but I never knew her. Born in Russia, she spoke no Russian, only Yiddish. In those days Jews were second-class citizens in Russia, forbidden to speak the national language. She and her family were persecuted and despised, for no reason except that they were Jewish.
My grandmother was forced to marry my grandfather, who had fled Russia with his first wife during the Pogroms, a time when Jews were robbed of their property, tortured and killed. My grandfather settled in the East End of London in England. When hisa first wife died in childbirth, he sent for her younger sister. The young girl who became my grandmother was duly dispatched from Russia to England, where she married my grandfather, and raised her dead sister’s four children. Such was the tradition amongst orthodox Jews at the time.
My grandmother bore nine children with my grandfather, who died just before my father’s Bar Mitzvah, leaving my grandmother with thirteen children to bring up alone. I can only imagine how terrible it must have been for my poor grandmother, a stranger in a strange land, far away from her family. She died in an even stranger land, Australia, still keeping the language and traditions of the stetl, the Russian village where her life began.
© Dina Davis 2020
Categories: BIOGRAPHY
dinadavisauthor
Dina Davis Author 
I loved reading that interesting piece of our family history!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Women have endured much over the centuries. Your grandmother must have been a very strong character to raise thirteen children. Thank you for sharing some of your history, Dina. ❤️
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very interesting Dina. I’m currently writing my own memoir and family history. It’s fascinating and so sad to look into our past. Even our present with Covid is such a challenge. Its fun to play Words with Friends with you. Cheers Vivi
>
LikeLiked by 1 person
Your father’s drawing of grandmother Golda, takes me straight back to the house in Parkway Avenue where I remember this picture hanging on the wall.
I also remember your father and uncle telling stories about their mother and life in London, always told with a great deal of humour.
I wasn’t aware of all the background and am wondering where she died in Australia.
Brings back fond memories-thanks.
Love, Rosemary.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi Dina, Loved your post as your background is so similar to mine. But your blog wouldn’t allow my response. I hope all is well with you. Helene
Sent from Helene Grover 0415462623
>
LikeLiked by 1 person
A remarkable woman, much loved and respected. She passed away surrounded by love in a nurturing environment.
LikeLiked by 1 person