After four years in America, our Mom had her tenth child, our beautiful baby sister, Anna. Parents were praying to God to help them buy a small, affordable house. One day, they just drove around Vancouver and saw a “For Sale” sign on an old and inexpensive house on one acre of land. They had no credit history, no English language, and could only afford a small payment. They met with the owner.
“God tells me to sell this house to this man,” the owner proclaimed pointing at my Father.
“Thank you so much for selling the house to us without even checking our credit history or income. We feel God’s love to us through your action,” my Father responded gratefully.
My parents bought the house and felt so lucky. The payment was low; once more God took care of us. At this time, man’s word and a handshake was his bond. We remodeled the house and our Mom opened a child care business in it. We all helped her.
…….
My husband’s parents, Sergey and Olga Anischenko, lived in Sukhumi, in the country of Georgia, where Oleg was born. Within a year, they moved 6,300 miles to Nakhodka, Russia, by the Japanese Sea, to be closer to his Mother’s family. Oleg was the second son in the family of five sons and one daughter. Both of his parents worked as tailors at a sewing company, and his Father had a second job, as a stoker at a coal company. They lived in their own house and had enough land to grow fruits, vegetables and berries. They worked hard to make a living.
The Christians in Russia and all the satellite countries were persecuted. In 1976, many Christian families sought to immigrate to America for religious reasons. Oleg’s Father was persecuted and arrested for his religious, human rights work. When the iron curtain finally collapsed, Oleg’s family was allowed to emigrate in 1988.
On a train, they rode 100 miles to Vladivostok. Then they flew 6,000 miles to Moscow, to get their immigration papers. Two weeks later they were able to board the train to Austria. Their family had purchased train tickets for a coupe wagon with beds, which is like a small room for the family. When Oleg’s Father tried to enter the train, he was pushed out by a military commander.
“Go to the back of the train and ride with soldiers,” – the commander said.
“But we have small children and bought the tickets for the coupe,” – Oleg’s Father objected.
“You will ride with soldiers today,” – the commander answered rudely.
Oleg’s family rushed to the back of the train, pushing their luggage on a metal cart. Oleg’s younger brother was running in front of the cart. He tripped, fell and his leg was deeply cut by the cart. The family had no time to stop. They simply picked him up and rushed to the train, where two nice ladies helped them aboard and assisted in binding the wound.
Oleg’s parents, brothers & sister. Oleg is the second tallest in the back.
Oleg’s family lived in Austria for two months and then immigrated to Italy. In Italy, they waited for another two months for a sponsor and documents, allowing them to enter the United States. Finally, they were able to take a plane to New York, and then to San Francisco. Due to a long flight and the time change, they were exhausted. On the flight to San Francisco, Oleg’s sister went through the checkpoint, boarded the plane into the first-class seating, and fell asleep without her family knowing where she had gone. Oleg’s fourteen-year-old brother, trying to be helpful, went to look for her with one of the airport security staff. Her parents found her sleeping inside the plane, but the older brother failed to make the flight. Thus, another flight for the brother had to be arranged by the sponsor. You can only imagine the stress Oleg’s parents went through while immigrating to America.
In San Francisco, earlier Russian immigrants from the church of Alexander A. Shevchenko, who came to America during 1940s, helped them. Oleg’s family lived in their church for two months before renting a small apartment. At the school they attended, Oleg and his siblings were the only white students. The other students consisted of African Americans, Hispanics and Phillippinos. This was very different than Russia. As their cultural knowledge grew and their language skills improved, America became less foreign.
After two years, Oleg’s family moved into the smaller, quieter and more affordable city of Modesto, California. Together, Oleg’s parents sewed for themselves and for others. More Russian people immigrated to Modesto and established a Russian church there. Oleg’s Mother taught Russian and Bible school, and led a children’s choir. She is a very positive and knowledgeable person. Oleg’s Father was kind and had high expectations for his sons. Unfortunately, diabetes disabled him at the age of 35 and his health was weak.
…….
3
Marriage is for life and divorce is a sin. If you
have problems, you work them out.
Some of my cousins lived in Modesto. In time, my extended family became friends with Oleg’s family. A year later, our cousins moved to live in Vancouver and Oleg came to visit them. The first time he saw me, he shared with my cousins that he liked me very much. They did not hesitate to report that news immediately to me. I was only fifteen years old and thought I was too young for love.
Two years later, one of my cousins opened an Auto Body shop in Vancouver. He knew that Oleg was responsible, so he invited him to come and work in his shop. Oleg thought this would be a great learning opportunity to improve his automotive skills. Plus, as he told me later, he could not wait to see me again. With the blessing of his parents, he moved to Vancouver to live and work. However, he had also promised his Father that he would return to Modesto after a year.
At this time, Oleg was nineteen years old and I was seventeen. We often saw each other in church and sometimes at my cousin’s home. Soon, Oleg started calling me. The third time I talked to him on the phone, he shared his feelings about me.
“Olga, I really like you. I am serious about this and, with time, I would like to marry you. Would you like to be my girlfriend?”
Oleg’s words really scared me. I barely knew him and wasn’t ready for a relationship, much less marriage, so I kept answering, “I don’t know.”
“Olga, do you know anything?” Oleg asked, impatiently.
“Oleg, I just started college. Give me time to concentrate on my education. If you are very serious, call me back in a year,” I answered politely.
That year hadn’t been easy for both of us. For some reason, I could easily talk to other youth in church, but not to Oleg. I avoided him and did unkind things to him. For example, he would quietly wait in the hallway to speak to me after the service, but I would intentionally pass by without looking at him or greeting him. It was if he did not exist. I knew that Christians should not do this. Maybe I had those feelings of love for him inside me, but I did not want to recognize it.
During the year, Oleg had returned to Modesto, as he promised to his parents. Exactly one year after I asked Oleg to call me back in a year, he called me and said,
“Olga, the year has passed, but I still love you so much. Would you consider being my girlfriend?”
I was so shocked. During the year we had communicated very little. I was happy to hear his voice.
“I was not nice to you, Oleg. Would you ever forgive me?” I asked.
“I love you so much, Olga. I forgive you and would like to spend the rest of my life with you,” Oleg said with a calming voice. “Would you consider dating me, please?”
