Free The Secret Holocaust Diaries: The Untold Story of Nonna Bannister by Nonna Bannister, Denise George, Carolyn Tomlin Page B

There were three horses, decorated with wreaths made out of pine twigs and red ribbon tied in pretty bows—they also had bells on their harnesses—all of which was colorful, cheerful, and as exciting as the morning itself.
    Everyone except Uncle Zhenya, who stayed behind to babysit Ludmila, were loaded into the carriage, which was affixed to the big sleigh itself. It was still dark outside—I don’t think it was past 6:00 a.m.—and the ride to the church must have taken at least twenty-five minutes. We were all so excited. Anatoly was picking on Petrovich, and everyone was laughing because he looked so small under that hat, but we were scolded by Grandmother for making fun of Petrovich.
    Long before we reached the church, the sound of multiple bells could be heard in the stillness of the early morning—we knew by the sound of the bells that we were coming closer to the church. Soon we entered a long, narrow road with tall birch trees on each side, which led us all the way to the church itself. It was a unique church: though I had been in the Orthodox churches in Rostov before, I had never seen so many onion-shaped domes and steeples in one place. Each steeple was crowned with a big copper cross—even in the dark, you could see the shine they were giving out—it looked like gold in the flicker of a dim light. One could not come close to the church and go inside without first stopping to look up and admire the array of steeples and crosses—who knows how long they had been there and how many believers had looked up and admired them. Whoever thought of the idea to build a steeple in that shape was long gone but had left something behind that would last forever.
    There were five smaller steeples surrounding the big one, which was standing in the middle of them so strong and proud. The cross on the big steeple was so high that it looked like it was touching Heaven itself—it seemed that the steeples were overtaking the church building. The entrance to the church was a large door, with the top of it shaped just like the steeples.
    At the sides of the door there were crippled people crowding around. (I guess they were beggars.) One man didn’t have any legs, and his body was affixed to a cart, while on the opposite side there was a blind woman, and by her side was a small boy holding a cup. There were other beggars, too, around the steps that led to the big door. All this made quite an impression on us children, and I remember so well being quite frightened by what I saw.
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CONTRAST • As a child, Nonna admired the magnificence of Russian Orthodox churches, the symbolism and significance of domes and crosses and steeples. But she also noticed that impoverished people stood beneath those domes begging for food and money. People were starving in late 1932, the beginning of the Holodomor —a Soviet genocidal starvation policy that claimed 6–8 million lives in less than one year. The poor people frightened Nonna and “made quite an impression” on her.
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    There were more people arriving at the same time, but they were coming in a more usual fashion than we did, especially with Petrovich being dressed like he was. Babushka was giving us children a gentle push through the large door, while Petrovich tried to keep busy with the horses. He was hoping that we would leave him behind tending to the horses and carriage—that Grandmother would not notice him—but her eye was much quicker than his cleverness. By the time he was thinking of staying out of church, Grandmother was motioning for him to come along, and Anatoly was giving him an encouraging smile. But Petrovich was only too happy to at least remove the top hat for a while when entering the church.
    Inside the church, I was absolutely overwhelmed by the surroundings, the people, and the smell of so many candles—there were hundreds and hundreds of candles—very large ones and small ones. Everyone who entered the church had to take a candle and light it from one