THE POLISH GYPSY

The day started out innocently enough. Just helping my mother clean her basement. What could go wrong? We came upon a large brown box filled with papers. Old utility bills, church bulletins, magazines came falling out of the overstuffed box. As we began sorting thru the items and destroying them, I noticed an old worn black book. I opened the book and the pages written in Polish were starting to fade. The only thing I could read on the first page was the year 1912. My mother looked at the book and said it was her mother's diary when she first came to America from Poland. She said her mother gave it to her before she died and told her to pass it on to one of her grandchildren some day. "Well, I guess you are the one I was supposed to pass it on to since you found it." I would regret my mother's words later as time wore on. As I had the diary translated I began to realize that I was the one destined to save our family. My deceased grandmother whom I had never met would whisper in my ear and not leave me in peace until her vision for our family was fulfilled. This is her story.........