Eighty-seventh installment from the diary of my great-grandfather’s sister Alise, written during the First World War. When the diary starts, she is living just a few miles from the front lines of the Eastern Front, and is then forced to flee with her husband and two young daughters to her family’s house near Limbaži as the war moves even closer. Her third child, a son, was born there in February 1916. The family has now relocated (again) to a home near Valmiera, and the Russian Revolution is in full swing. For more background, see here, and click on the tag “diary entries†to see all of the entries that I have posted.
If there is mention of a recognizable historical figure and event, I will provide a Wikipedia link so that you can read more about the events that Alise is describing.
I missed posting December 4th’s entry, you can read it here.
December 10, 1918
Today was the first nice day of winter. Quiet, white. Snow is falling slowly and covering all of nature – for a long time the sorrowful land was ailing, dreary autumn storms, not having its peaceful rest, and after a nap it broke: The skies opened and from above the land recieved snow which fell so white, onto the despairing and crying land. And it’s true, the whole world is despairing and crying, our people, what a dark future, how filled with horror and fear and discord, the brothers of our Latvian people one against the other. If only wiht the white snow, and the nearing Christmas, would come real peace on Earth and goodwill towards men, and after the tears and sorrows the land could sleep in comfort, and no injustices could touch that holy peace. White snow is also covering Mother’s burial mound. My thoughts take me to the old LÄ“durga cemetery, where I sit next to Mother’s grave, if only I had wings, I would fly there, for the longing to be there is very great. White snow like a sheet, wrapped around all of nature. The days of life, how they rush, how they come and then they end! White snow like a sheet, wraps up our lives.
Is this breast is the diary entries?
Is this the last of the diary entries? Sorry for the previous typo error.