Magyar News, 1994. szeptember-1995. augusztus (5. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1995-03-01 / 7. szám
Bl'J Kézséghát« utcarcszíúítei ■ i-1 ' '' *V ) An old postcard from Búj, Szabolcs Megye Borbála lay awake under her goose feather comforter, filled with excitement and wonder for tomorrow. She would need to rise early; she would be leaving her aunt and uncle’s home. They had asked her to stay— to be like a daughter to them— to continue tobe a help with their farm. Borbála had brought top dollar at the market with her carrots. She knew her headmaster at grade school in Búj, Szabolcs Megye, would have been proud of her. The neatly tied carrots — each bunch carefully washed to entice the buyer to select her carrots above all the others— went swiftly when the market opened. Her uncle had been pleased. How much she had learned at Grandmother Harsányi’s tenant farm where, when she was twelve or thirteen, she had gone to live after the death of her little brother, Frankie. Her father, Samuel Terhes, had taken a second wife after the death of her own dear mother (Édes Anyám) when she was 6 years old. How she missed the sweet warmth of her mother’s smile and her soft caring ways. Borbála had been her father’s favorite. A respected man of the village, he was Clerk of the Town and villagers looked up to him. He was a strong, serious man yet kind and loving. She remembered his amusement, when in the evenings, he would pace the floor, hands gripped behind his back, and Kedves Borbála would step carefully in his footsteps, her little hands clasped behind her in like fashion. If he stopped, she would stop. She knew that the older children (there were 3 brothers and a sister) would be reprimanded for mimicking, but she could see the curl at the comers of his mouth as he glanced down at her over his shoulder. His new wife had come to this marriage with two older girls. Borbála knew they were favored, and when it was decided several years later that she would live with IN SEARC The Story ofBessn by Dorothy her widowed Grandma, she was glad. At Grandma’s, it would be her responsibility to go into the fields to show the tenant farmers which plots of land to be worked. And at harvest time, she was the one who selected the produce to be sorted. “These for Grandma and me—these for you and your families.” They listened and did as she told them. It was her job to drive the geese to market in Nyíregyháza to be sold for their feather down—“dunyha” for perhaps a bride’s bed— and for succulent dining of “tender goose” and “rizskása” (rice with carrots and kohlrabi). Also, she had loosely tied large white sheets, each filled with hand sliced noodles of all sizes which she had made—the ladies would buy these up quickly as they would the nut and poppy pastries—the lekvár and apricot crescents (kifli). Borbála had, from sheer desire, learned to do all these things— her fingers were nimble, her mind quick, her spirit eager. The sound of the ladies’ voices at the village well where she went to fill her jug with water, echoed in her mind, “There should be more like Grandma' s Harsányt s granddaughter.” How could she know that when Grandma had said, “Come, Kedves Borbála, read to me from the Bible. Begin where you left off last night,” that the flowering of her faith would hold her in good stead. Perhaps, this is why she was able to reach deep within herself to tell her uncle, when he asked her to stay, “No, I’m going to America.” After all, she had spent all those years helping Grandma. And now that Grandma’s land The wedding picture of Charles Laskay and Bessie Terhes in 1916 The ho mi The home 4
