Damiani family with Officers on board the S.S. Olympia. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

Life is hard for newcomers in Canada, but we enjoy every minute we spend together here. Now we have a lot of friends and we are helping new immigrants with their adaptation in Vancouver.

My father and his friends built our first house in 1953.

...I have no recollection of the trip over, but one bit of definite feedback I got years to come was of the Cotton Bread (Pumpulileipa), as a reference to the unbelievably fluty texture of the white Canadian bread.

Pier 21, 1963, by photographer Ken Elliot. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

To Canada, we are also grateful, for allowing us the opportunity to become part of this great nation; for accepting us for what we were and for allowing us to become what we are, proud Canadians.

Greek Hellenic youth, 1949. Image courtesy of the Delefes family.

...For our train trip, we were given ten dollars per person to get us to our destination, enough to buy that pure soft cottony white bread we had never seen before.

Arriving in New York harbor on 12th October, shipyard workers re-painted the huge American flag on each side of Washington’s hull, advertising her neutral status. Andrew’s underpants, hung out the porthole to dry, received a coat of red paint. I never learned which of the original 13 colonies they were baptized by.

…Our first house was near Botanical Gardens so guess where we went for walks on Sunday afternoons?

Aileen Ratz Scrapbook. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

The day was cold and grey. Finally, there was Canada on the horizon and we were soon going to go ashore to our new country. For a child, it couldn't get better then this - the adventure and excitement just kept coming. If I ever make it back to Halifax, there's no way that I'd miss visiting Pier 21. Thanks for the site!

We are grateful and thankful that we immigrated to Canada. If we had stayed in post-war Europe, none of us would have had the opportunities that Canada offered. As soon as it was legally possible, we became Canadians. Canada became our country and we love Canada.

It was the Canadian Red Cross that came to our aid when our house in London was bomb damaged during the war. I was 11 years of age and vividly remember the boxes of clothing and food they delivered to our door. I promised myself that I would go to Canada one day.

You imagine how, how it’s going to look, the land. You start looking from the window of the airplane, see a big land, you say for sure I’m going to fit somewhere in this

In 1948, over sixty years ago, Canadian representatives of the Immigration and Employment Department came to Malta to select young tradesmen to immigrate to Canada. I, Lewis Borg, was one of the 500 select to immigrate.

We had our first corn flakes and potatoes with the skin on (my mother always peeled the potatoes). Bacon and eggs, Canadian style, went down very well. My mother insisted we eat all the food, to show our appreciation.

...They went to buy bread. No one was able to speak English, and the store owner didn¹t speak Italian.

Thank you Canada, thank you dear Canadian friends, who helped us to feel here completely at home.

Image courtesy of Rina Caron.

We were grateful for the roof over our heads and no one complained…

Canadian and British naval servicemen on board the H.M.S. Whitehall, circa 1942. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

What I remember most about the trip is the dolphins following the ship, there was so many of them. One day I was on deck looking over the side when one the ship crew who was on the bow called over to me. The area was roped off, but he said it was ok to come and see. You could see all the dolphins missing the bow by inches, maybe leading our ship not following us to the new land, I wondered what was waiting for us on the other side.

Bottos family with group on board the S.S. Conte Biancamano, August 1953. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

I arrived in Canada on July 1st, on Canada Day and it was very, very meaningful. In South America, we believe in signs and for me was a good sign that, that everything was going to be okay.

My grandparents immigrated to Canada in ’56 from Hungary. It was during the Hungarian Revolution, and the fled with the clothes on their backs. They built a family here with many happy times.

I came to Canada to visit my uncle and it didn't take me long to fall in love with this great Nation after stepping off the airport. The air, the environment, the people, the culture and the lively vibe of the city, things I have never experienced before.

We took one bit and gagged - SALTED BUTTER!

We were lead to other tables and received our fist nourishment on Canadian soil. Many were still seasick and the texture of the nourishment did not help. Compared to European wieners, the hot dogs were tasteless and the mustard too sweet. Along with the hot dog came a slice of white, square pieces of tasteless sponge. All of us, used to European rye bread or white rolls, did not recognize it as a standard Canadian bread.

At Pier 21, I was met by Immigration officials and after clearing the necessary paperwork, I received my landed immigrant stamp and boarded a train for Lethbridge, Alberta. My first recollection of a good Canadian meal came in the form of Kellogg’s Corn Flakes served in a mini-box. Never having seen this before, I wondered in amazement if everyone in Canada ate out of little one-meal boxes!

"...On the train, we were given Franco American Spaghetti and Blue Bonnet sliced white bread, that my brother called SPONGE. He refused to eat and my mom didn’t know what to do for us..."

…In early March, 1970, I attended a meeting on co-op housing in Sackville, and came home a member of a Co-op shortly after that, we were assigned a building lot, allocated $14,000, and we were on our own.

My parents died in Penticton, BC in February 1988 within three days of each other. Fate had brought them together at the right time and in the right country. I owe a great debt to both of them and to Canada.

...I remember the first time I had Canadian bread. I rolled it up and tried to bounce it.

Canada allowed me to become a Canadian Citizen, gifted me a future, one of freedom of speech and religion, the opportunity to make choices, allowing me to determine my future! I am eternally grateful to Canada for all of these gifts and privileges!

The Netherlands is our country of birth and always will be our homeland but now we are Canadian. We will be forever grateful to the staff and all who were, and are now, associated with Pier 21

Refugees from the S.S. Walnut. Origins Unknown.

S.S. Queen Frederica, March 1958. Image courtesy of the Brana family.

...Eventually the Customs and Immigration people were done processing us and we were free to leave the area.

Pakistan High Commissioners in Montreal, QC, September 1960. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

We immigrated to Canada about a year ago and our first impression of the Canadians was how friendly and welcoming they treated us! Canada is such a great country and we are glad being part of it. Laura & Jan

... That evening, my Dad had bought some "Canadian sliced white bread", which was something new for us, which he made extra special by buttering the bread and sprinkling sugar on top...

I moved to Canada when I was 16 (2010) It was hard at first, but people here are nice. I am now Canadian citizen. Thank ü Canada. HaHaHa...

I came to Canada from Brazil when I was 5 years old. I remember I had to leave all my xmas gifts and friends behind in Rio. It was very hard. Also, we arrived in winter and found it hard to breath the cold air. I had to teach myself how to inhale short breaths to be able to take in the cold!

Doris Peter, Margaret Burt, and others in Toronto, 1940. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

As soon as we landed at Toronto airport, that was amazing the peace and the comfort, I had in my heart, in my body, I cannot explain, I was just standing outside the airport and I was just shivering, like oh my God, so finally we are in Canada.

I thank God many times for bringing us to Canada.

I once said "Mom, you were so brave to come to Canada as a war bride." "No", she replied, "Not 'brave' darling...just stupid.

I was born in Denmark (1931) and raised in Jylland. As a teen-ager I was endowed with an adventurous spirit; as I read stories of pioneering in Canada, I determined that I would someday emigrate to that country.

We feel lucky that they are all growing up in the most wonderful country in the world. I will always remember where I came from but it is who I am now that matters.

Schultz family on board the S.S. Fairsea, 4 Dec 1951. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

My father fled Romania in 1988 while my mother was pregnant with me. He was captured in Yugoslavia and spent time in prison there before being accepted as a refugee in Canada. It was two years before my mother, older sister and I were all able to join him. My family chose Calgary because they had Romanian friends in the city. The adjustment was difficult for them having to leave behind their friends, family, good jobs and the sense of security that comes from being surrounded by people who understood their native language and shared a culture with them. I am in awe of their bravery, positivity and resilience. Even though my father’s engineering degree was not recognized in Canada, he was able to prove his aptitude as an elevator repairman and work his way up. My sister and I have both gone to school, gotten married and made lives for ourselves here in Canada. I am so grateful for the sacrifices my parents made to bring us here!

While we sailed away from Ireland I stood at the stern of the ship and watched Ireland disappear over the horizon, a sad moment. During the crossing of the North Atlantic, I was standing at the rail of the ship with an old English fellow, who was a farmer from Saskatchewan returning home to Canada (he had emigrated many years before) we were looking out over the water and that's all you could see in any direction. I said to him "boy that's a lot of water" and he said "yeah and that's only the top.

We have had a wonderful life in this country. My brothers and sisters join me in saying, Thank you Canada - definitely the land of opportunity! and God bless the staff at Pier 21 for making sure we, as a family

I felt like a small grain of sand washed up on the shores, with many thousands of others. Many had stories, similar to mine, coming for refuge and with high hopes, to Canada. Fortunately my story has a happy ending.

The bread was soft and spongy and packed in wax paper, the butter was all salty, there was only soft process cheese, instead of smoked and cured hard sausage they only had what they called baloney and peanut butter, and many other novelties that we didn't even understand. Welcome to Canada..

One thing I can smell even today was the Wonder Sliced Bread

Having been brought up with hard crusty bread we found the loaf we bought extremely soft with a strange smell that has remained with us ever since. We never ate that bread nor have we ever consumed that bread since our settling in Canada...

Ukrainian family on board the R.M.S. Aquitania, December 1947. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

R.M.S. Ascania, 1953. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

My advice would be…Stay warm in the winter. Stop in at a Tim Horton. Try moose meat at least once. And keep smiling.

The second I land at the airport as overseas student, my gosh, that feeling was so great that I actually, you know, I was, I couldn’t stop smiling. It sounds weird, but I couldn’t stop smiling. Yeah, ‘cause it’s just hope and excitement and change.

My mother decided that our first meal would simply be wieners and mashed potatoes, since, indeed, we had problems locating ingredients for a fancier meal. The wieners seemed rather short, and when we got home and boiled them, we also discovered that they were neither as tasty nor as firm as Danish wieners. However, our greatest disappointment was with the mustard, which looked exactly like European mustard, but which was probably the worst brand of mustard that we had ever encountered. In fact, we were totally baffled by its taste and consistency, and the beastly stuff certainly didn’t go very well with the wieners either. As we were later to discover, that was our first introduction to peanut butter.

I believe that Canada has given us the opportunity to become something meaningful of ourselves and contribute to the success of the community and to the Great country of Canada.

The light of the bright moon illuminated the cemetery walls. At this point my eyes were dimmed with tears. I kissed my son on the forehead and I whispered. Son, I promise you that in Canada I’ll do my best to help my family. I’ll work hard to bring a piece of bread to our table and some day, we’ll have our own home.

The prairies were dreary in March and seemed to go on forever and ever given we had come from a country that one could cross by car or train in a matter of hours. The big surprise came in the middle of one night when our father shook us all awake and told us to look at the mountains. I rolled over in the berth and looked out and saw rock walls, then I rolled on my back and far above us, shining in the moonlight, were snow-covered peaks of the Rocky Mountains. Amazing! Denmark's "Heaven Mountain" is a whole 480 meters high - these mountain peaks were beyond imagining.

It was all done within the course of a flight and the 30 minutes in the airport. That was it. And that was me, at that point, a permanent resident of Canada and it was like: wow! This is, this is it! I’m free to work, I’m free to do anything here. So, no, there was nothing to hold me back.

At that time we had 3 choices for immigration: Australia, South Africa and Canada. We decided on Canada because it was closer and a return trip to Germany would have been less expensive. It also seemed more interesting than the other two countries.

Second World War Canadian nurses, with Vera M Ruth Sullivan. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

Mom and Dad worked had to improve the family way of life

Heads or tails" father said as he balanced the coin on his fingertips. "Tails", mother said without hesitation. The coin flipping ceremony was decided upon after many hours of heated discussion, ending in a stalemate. They had agreed to emigrate, the choice was between Australia and Canada. Mother opted for the former because her sister had emigrated to Free mantle in the late thirties. She married an Aussie soon after her arrival; her letters were filled with glowing commentaries of life down under. Father, on the other hand, had relatives in Canada, who also wrote urging him to take advantage of the many opportunities waiting in Canada. They agreed to let the coin decide.

When the server came around with this bread, we didn't know what to think. We surely thought we would not be able to swallow it since we couldn't crunch it in our teeth. We thought it may get stuck in our throat!..."

Hungarian Revolution Refugees in 1956 / Jewish Public Library Archives.

I am a black Jamaican – Canadian. I had a Teacher’s diploma & a B.A. from a Canadian university. An immigration officer in Toronto told me to seek a job as a domestic, as I would never get one as a teacher. I laughed at him. I did work happily in my profession for 32 years. I have 3 medals for community contributions, plus numerous awards. Thanks, Canada. P.S. I arrived in 1965.

I was also highly amazed at the way Corn Flakes was packed and served in individual cut-open boxes. Finally I was diagnosed as having measles and released from quarantine and "landed" on Apr 5,1949. A long train trip brought us to Ajax to what seemed to be a POW camp with barbed wire around it. From there we were directed to our destinations, my mother and I to Orillia in Ontario. Thus, my arrival to Canada, never to be regretted.

Zoratti family on board the S.S. Homeland, June 1952. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

When my father escaped to Canada during WWII, his 9 year old sister became lost. The situation was dire and they could not turn back to look for her. All they could do was cry and pray that a kind family would help her. Two weeks later, a man who was asking them to share their meagre food told them of a young girl in the yard with newspaper wrapped around her shoes. It was my dad’s sister. Needless to say, all were joyful to share supper that night…and many since.
Roxy

I came to Canada from the U.S. in 2007 after a more than two-year intake process that began shortly after same-sex marriage was legalized at a national level in Canada.

It takes a lot of humility. I invite you to find refuge in love, and share who you are. Welcome!

Pier 21 airing gallery. Origins unknown.

The airport doors opened and oh my God, the breeze of air, the cold breeze, it felt like it pierced through my body like I was like, oh my God, I’m not even wearing anything like for suitable for this, this climate and I came right back in and just sat down, I was very cold, I was, I was, like I wasn’t prepared, like I wish I would have brought like something, something warm with me, but I wasn’t really resourceful in Afghanistan either.