Babcha

Babcha

From a child you worked the fields of your Russian homeland.
At the tender age of fourteen an older man asked for your hand.
Giving birth in squatting position and no help to ease your pain,
you went back to the fields in hours thrashing wheat into grain.

Forced to work and leave your newborn in the care of another,
returning home you were told that your baby did smother.
Your Russia now changing, you no longer seem to know.
You hear Cossacks coming, footsteps crunching in the snow.

In great fear for your lives with only your kitchen table in tow,
You heard where there was freedom so off to America you go.
You lived to see something you'd thought you'd never see.
Standing in the Harbor was the welcoming Statue of Liberty.

At Ellis Island they made you sit in quaratine for weeks,
even though you were healthy and had lovely rosy cheeks.
They changed your name to one they could pronounce,
told you to speak only English, your homeland renounce.

You worked hard as a seamstress in a dismal sweat shop.
There were no bathroom breaks and the work didn't stop.
Cleaning roach-filled apartments,trying to make them home.
After years of hard work you built a little home of your own.

Pink painted stucco with a bright tulip bed border,
grape vines and cherry trees all pruned and in order.
In the front of the house was your most beloved posession,
the flagpole with flowers planted all around it in procession.

You knew how to make everything and be happy with less,
We learned from your example more than you could ever guess.
You were a faithful and good Catholic praying to Jesus and Mary,
fearing nobody, you chased bad men off with brooms in a hurry.

You went to the horse track but your betting was light,
At Madison Square Garden you saw Jimmy Braddock fight.
To cure the cold or the flu you said there was a sure bet,
drink warm milk,garlic and honey till you broke out in a sweat.

Your homemade Russian pirogis were beloved by all,
jars of home canned foods filled your pantry in the hall.
Spiced pears, piquant chow-chows,you preserved them,
then at huge holiday meals you most proudly served them.

You outlived two husbands and some of your children,
living to see great grandchildren helped to ease that burden.
I 'll never forget your big one hundred year birthday,
the great sheetcake's many candles turned night into day.

Sitting in lace-collared black dress and sagging support hose,
your thick spectacles perched on the end of your nose.
Your mood was happy and lively as a Russian Sitka dance,
Try to make you sit and relax, there was absolutely no chance

Soon you couldn't get up and walk no matter how you had tried,
but you said you still felt like a young little girl on the inside.
Things will never be the same without you sweet, dear, old Babcha,
We will always see you smiling, cooking and wearing a babushka.

Proverbs 17:6-
Grandchildren are the crown of the aged,
and the glory of children is their fathers.

Proverbs 16:31-
Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life.