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

...I felt wonderful to be in a new country.

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.

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.

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

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. I fell as though some greater power must have been leading my unpredictable steps to the right places through the years. I am grateful to Canada for giving me the life I now enjoy.

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 immigrated with my family (my dad, mom, and two brothers), we all were thrilled and amazed by the green beautiful nature of Halifax upon the landing of the plane. It was the best day of our lives, our reasons for immigrating were many but mostly, a home! We were looking for a place to settle in a safe, friendly and peaceful place to call home, I'm glad that place was Canada for us.

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

Image courtesy of Rina Caron.

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.

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.

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.

…January 1, 1953. Our agreed time to work and save as a family was up. I began saving for my wedding.

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.

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

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.

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

The door was opening and like I was curious, like let me breathe the air from Canada, okay and I feel like, hmm yeah the sky is blue, you know and the air is so fresh, I feel okay, you know, I’m in Canada now, it’s different.

"...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 parents immigrated from Poland and Ukraine. I was so lucky to be born in Canada

Fannie, my cat, my mom, my dad, my jewellery, my plushies, my Harry Potter things.
Frédérique Godan August 8, 2017 Halifax, NS

I moved to Canada when I was two years old. We came from the Netherlands - the memories I have are sitting in the airport in Toronto and refusing to move, and the mud in our new home in Fox Creek, Alberta

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.

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

Canada was part of our greatest journey on this earth, being welcomed in this land gave us the freedom to shape us into individuals that have contributed much, and so therefore, the sacrifice of leaving our native land, facing many trials and overcoming many hurdles, says it all for us and our posterity.

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…

I am so happy to live in Canada, in Halifax, Thank you!

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.

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...

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.

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.

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!..."

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.

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.

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

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..

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

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

Immigration Officer McFaul at Erin Meeting, Queens Hotel, October 1958.Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

Hungarian Revolution Refugees in 1956 / Jewish Public Library Archives.

As time passed we came to grow in this land, and, if the truth be known, the land came to grow in us. Wy binne gelokkich (we are blessed).

Damiani family with Officers on board the S.S. Olympia. 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.

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!

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.

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

…In 1966 we bought our first house in Etobicoke, a suburb of Toronto

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

Cape Breton War Brides, with Beryl and Winnie Barnett. Image courtesy of the Barnett Family.

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!

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!

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!

I love being a Canadian. The greatest thing is not having to live in fear. I had no money but I had everything because I had peace. This wasn’t so with everyone. Some of my friends cried, cursed, etc., because they were homesick or had hard employers. Some even ran away.

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,

…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.

I look back on how Canada has changed me and my values. I think the hardest part of emigrating was changing the way I believed things should be done. I was brought up to understand that the British knew how to do things correctly.

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

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.

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

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

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

I give thanks for Canada because Canada helped me and family to start life again and also thanks to everyone who helped the Syrian people to stop bloodshed. I hope with all my heart to live in Canada lasting peace and getting stronger ever time.
Mohammad October 13, 2016

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..

...Actually I already know a few words. When a man comes around selling food I just say, "Ham sandvits!"

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

Coming to Canada was the best thing that could have happened to me. Thank You Canada! for the opportunity and the many favours along the way.

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..."

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.

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.

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

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.

We took one bit and gagged - SALTED BUTTER!

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

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

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

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

Wartime bread was grey and heavy and tasted like cardboard. Everything here was delicious.

...We were the only ones on the ship not ill.