Hannah Kukla
When I was a little girl growing up in Chicago, I had no awareness of the world around me. I didn't really know of war or what was happening in other countries. What I do remember are several children coming to St. Jerome school that had arrived from very far away. They were pale and quiet and could not speak English very well, if at all.
I remember one little girl who said she was from Poland. She was very tiny and thin, but what I remember the most about her, were her earrings! I had never seen pierced ears before and had always assumed that the only people who wore earrings at all were grown women. But they were lovely; tiny, tiny pearls that she had worn for all of her life. She smiled at my amazement and we became friends.
In my neighborhood on Fargo Ave., there were severa apartment buildings that had very large apartments, like the one my family lived in. I can remember old women, wearing babushka's and dressed all in black, coming out of doors and calling to their grandchildren, who were playing in the street with the rest of us. They sang out in a language I could not understand, but the children they were calling did, and that was all that mattered.
I went into an apartment of a playmate one time when we wanted some water. It was warm and there were many, many people there and they were very nice to me. They told me in broken English, that my hair was pretty and looking back I imagine there were not too many red-headed people living in Poland.
These people were the real inspiration for Hannah Kukla. I wanted to write a story that recognized the struggle of these families to come to the United States and it was a blessing to us all who there, that they picked Rogers Park as their home.
To purchase Hannah Kukla in e-book or paperback,
on Amazon, click on the title
I remember one little girl who said she was from Poland. She was very tiny and thin, but what I remember the most about her, were her earrings! I had never seen pierced ears before and had always assumed that the only people who wore earrings at all were grown women. But they were lovely; tiny, tiny pearls that she had worn for all of her life. She smiled at my amazement and we became friends.
In my neighborhood on Fargo Ave., there were severa apartment buildings that had very large apartments, like the one my family lived in. I can remember old women, wearing babushka's and dressed all in black, coming out of doors and calling to their grandchildren, who were playing in the street with the rest of us. They sang out in a language I could not understand, but the children they were calling did, and that was all that mattered.
I went into an apartment of a playmate one time when we wanted some water. It was warm and there were many, many people there and they were very nice to me. They told me in broken English, that my hair was pretty and looking back I imagine there were not too many red-headed people living in Poland.
These people were the real inspiration for Hannah Kukla. I wanted to write a story that recognized the struggle of these families to come to the United States and it was a blessing to us all who there, that they picked Rogers Park as their home.
To purchase Hannah Kukla in e-book or paperback,
on Amazon, click on the title
