When we passed customs and boarded the train they gave us two loafs of bread. Not knowing what it was I used it to play accordion as it was soft and flexible..

Red Cross nurses during the Second World War. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

ESWIC War bride club. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

My first feelings about Canada, Halifax and the new world, were a mixture of confusion, terror and curiosity. While on board the Britannic waiting to dock I became aware of the requirement that upon arrival we were to be taken to a "hall". To my Hungarian ears that notion sounded unusual. You see in Hungarian, "Hal" with one "L" means "fish", so I imagined that we were all to be taken into a giant fish! And the smells upon arrival at Halifax did not do much to convince me otherwise.

The sights and sounds of Pier 21 will remain with me forever. I felt closer to my parents and grandmother than ever before because I was able to share in this memorable experience. This was truly a great day for Canada and for me. Thanks Pier 21!

...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.

Italian immigrants on board the T.S.S. Nea Hellas, spring 1953. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

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.

One of my funniest memories," Bette continued, "was the day we landed at Halifax. We were so eager to get off the boat but they told us that the train had already left. When we finally departed, every time the train stopped we all jumped off and mailed letters to our husbands to let them know we were coming. We thought the letter would arrive the next day same as in Britain! We had no idea.

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.

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.

Hungarian Refugees at Dorval Airport, Montreal, QC, November 1956. 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.

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.

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

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

My mother assured him that we only had personal belongings and oil and cheese, he marked the trunks with a check mark and away we went on the train. If course it wasn’t the whole truth because my grandmother was loaded up with liquor bottles sewed inside the coat she was wearing…

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.

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

We have had our share of sorrows, but also lots of joy. Life has been wonderful here in this marvelous country. I am thankful and grateful that I have had the opportunity to live here. Canada, in my opinion, the greatest country and the most generous, fine people to be found.

My brother still talks about the wonderful soft white bread buns that were served – they were so delicious.

Thank-You Canada for making this Beautiful country my Home for me and my beautiful family. And Thank You for making it all possible

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

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.

...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.

Doppenberg family on board the M.S. Ryndam, 1960. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

With all the hardships we went trough, my parents never complained. Every year got better and better. Canada is a great country. We all love our new homeland, its people and open spaces. From the seven people that arrived on Pier 21 on May 15th, 1951, we are now 57 proud Canadians. Thank You Canada!!!

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.

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

The year was 1953 as the ship pulled away from the docks of Naples. Leaving family, friends and possessions; Vincenzo Armenti said goodbye to his homeland. He also left behind memories of unemployment and destitution in a country still suffering from a devastating war. He set out for Canada in hopes of finding prosperity with a chance to work and earn money so his family could have a better life other than the certain poverty they faced in Italy.

…In the spring of 1947 we bought our first house; a two storey log house in Bear Creek.

Bring your open spirit, love of life and tolerance of all peoples. Share your culture, history and story to enrich Canadian fabric and society.
Stephen Cheng, Toronto via Montreal and Taiwan, Halifax, NS

It was very different coming here in the way you got treated. I remember just being totally shocked by how welcoming and open people were.

I was 15 when my parents and closest brother crossed the border on a hot, sunny August day at North Portal, Saskatchewan. We were landed immigrants, Americans from Wisconson. I’m not sure I thought I was staying in Canada. We were no strangers to being expatriots, and in 1972, I had spent most of my life outside of the U.S.A. After four years back in the States, Moving to Canada was another adventure. It was all so clean and Fresh in my mind. So much the same, but different never the less. By 1979 I was a Canadian, what a good decision.

Estonian refugees, date unknown. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

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.

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

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.

"...We loved the taste of Canadian white bread, sliced at that! It tasted like cake to us and it was the first of many pleasant surprises..."

My husband, 2 small daughters 7 & 4 arrived from London U.K. on May 24 weekend on the SS Statendaam at Pier 21, Halifax. Crowds of immigrants being processed, long train journey to Toronto. Arrived 7 am. No Jobs, NOWHERE TO LIVE, NO PROSPECTS. Didn’t know anyone. This was 1966. We lived in a hot attic room at the rundown FORD HOTEL in Toronto, and my husband immediately went job hunting (I wanted to go back). Eventually settled in London, ONTARIO where we thrived and raised our girls in a great City. Made lots of friends, worked hard, joined in everything Canada had to offer. We moved to B.C. (Parksville) 18 yrs. ago. My husband passed away 4 yrs. ago, but I’m still here. Made lots of trips back to England, but this is “HOME.” Thank you Canada
Jean Booth

...At first the soft white sliced bread tasted like cake to me

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

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!

...At the train station my mom was told to buy some bread and a can of meat.

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

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.

Red Cross, 1963. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

Doppenberg family on board the S.S. Ryndam, 1960. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

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

...I know it was hard for most of us coming from a strictly rationed country to adjust to all that lovely Canadian food.

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

Our first house in Canada was a farmhouse 2 km outside of Bowmanville

...Before boarding the train, my mother went to a nearby convenience store to purchase some food.

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!..."

Your anthem dearest Canada we sing with pride and thanks
From the heart of all the immigrants who landed on your banks.
Our family came aboard the ship they call the Volendam
In nineteen hundred fifty one, a Canadian to become.

My brother was waiting for me in the airport, so. It was nice to see him after 17 years and then we came here and I got sick because it was so cold, and yeah that was one of the happiest day in my life, I think. And I never forget the day.

I would bring my family album, learn more about my country so I can share with my new Canadian Family

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.

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.

Passengers on board the S.S. Conte Biancamano, August 1954. 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.

Baltic refugees on board the Parnu. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

It is okay to cry. Missing home is normal. You’re a very strong individual. Remember that change doesn’t happen over night.
Matt Evans Halifax, NS

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

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.

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

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.

Hungarian Revolution Refugees in 1956 / Jewish Public Library Archives.

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

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.

I would bring my husband and a positive attitude. That’s all that’s needed to start new anywhere… maybe I’d bring my camping gear, too…

Pier 21 airing gallery. Origins unknown.

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.

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.

Adjusting to life in Canada was a bit challenging in the first couple of months but I soon started meeting people and learning about the culture, going to university and being part of the community,

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.

After 12 days of just being sea sick, losing weight on my already frail frame, we pulled into Halifax, January 1957. The army cadet band greeted us. We were then ushered into the immigration building to be examined by doctors. We watched TV and ate corn flakes for the first time without milk as one would eat potato chips. My parents were very enthusiastic, full of life, and had plans for the future.

My mother came from Czechslovakia. They were running from Hitler because they were gypsies. I love Canada.

I thank God for Canada and the life my family has enjoyed here. It has been a terrific country to grow up in and to live. There's no place on earth I'd rather live.

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.