By Chance Alone Read Online Free Page A

in the town who were doing more “grown-up” things. Smoking was forbidden, but at eight years of age, we did not take that as a deterrent. We had no money, so I volunteered to get some from my father’s till at the Cellar. I went to the store and told the shopkeeper that the schoolteacher had asked me to pick up cigarettes. I put the money on the counter and was given ten cigarettes wrapped in newspaper. My friends and I took off to a nearby secluded mountain area to light up. Everyone was inhaling and blowing smoke rings, and soon we all became dizzy. We were coughing and spitting, and it was not a pleasurable experience for any of us, but we wanted to be like the older boys.
    When I returned home, my mother immediately smelled smoke on my breath and knew exactly what I’d been up to. She told me in no uncertain terms never to do it again. In spite of the warning, I continued to smoke with my friends whenever we managed to scrape together some loose change.
    Dr. Fried, our family doctor, was an elegant man who always smoked a cigar when going on his walks about town. I found the cigar smoke very pleasing and would follow him around to get a whiff as he walked. Eventually, my friends and I decided to pool our money to buy one large Cuban cigar to share. We returned to my family’s property with the treasured purchase and stole away inside the large chicken coop. We tried to light the cigar, but we didn’t realize that we had to clip the end to create an airway for the smoke. Everyone tried unsuccessfully to light it, progressively chewing up more and more of the end, making a mess of it. As matches from all the lighting attempts accumulated on the floor, the straw started to smoulder and soon smoke filled the small pen. It attracted my grandfather, who opened the door and yelled, “Get out! You are burning down the chicken coop!” When we got outside, I could see smoke coming from every crevice. My friends took off, leaving me to face the talking-to from my grandfather. But still we were not deterred. We started making corncob pipes and smoking dried leaves instead of tobacco. It was awful stuff, but we kept at it during the fall, when there were plenty of leaves to use. I carried on smoking until I was twelve, when I had to leave home for my apprenticeship.
    Looking back, I see how outrageous some of my actions were. I also see how much thought, effort, and work went into running the household, and how much I took for granted. My mother fed us a nutritious, balanced diet, cooked from scratchevery day, and she gave me a spoonful of fish oil with a drop of syrup for additional health before I left the house for school. She was also an amazing seamstress, and she made many of our clothes at home. How she managed with no running water, no washing machine, and no other modern conveniences is beyond my comprehension. She must have experienced stress and tension in the course of her day’s work, and I realize now how much she sacrificed for her family’s well-being.

C HAPTER 2
Summers on the Farm
    M y mother’s family lived approximately two hundred kilometres away in a small farming community called KolbaÅ¡ov, near the large city of Michalovce. Grandmother Friedman and my two unmarried uncles, Herman and Pavel, ran the large family farm, where they produced corn, grain, and flax. They had a herd of milk cows, sheep, and goats, as well as several teams of horses that they used for tilling, hauling, and other kinds of work. This was a very enterprising farm with many young people hired to help out. At sunrise the cattle were taken out to the various pastures to graze, and they were brought back at noon and again in the evening to be milked by hand into pails. The farmhands processed the milk in separators for skimmed milk and butter. They made cheeses from sheep and goat milk. At the end of the day, the teams of horses were also returned from the fields, unharnessed, groomed, and freed