Tímarit Þjóðræknisfélags Íslendinga - 01.01.1966, Qupperneq 76

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TÍMARIT ÞJÓÐRÆKNISFÉLAGS ÍSLENDINGA
the ring. “GOLD — gold,” muttered
the woman; “gold, — gold.” Then she
slumped into a chair wiped the per-
spiration from her fat face and
fondled the ring in her hand. “GOLD
- gold.”
I never saw my grandmother as
impressive looking as she appeared
on this occasion; her blue eyes filled
with indignation and her voice be-
came harmoniously eloquent as she
handed the ring to the woman and
said:
“Taktu við.“ (Take it).
She was never verbose, bless her
heart, and on this occasion she felt
it was quite adequate to say merely:
“Take it.” Her blue eyes, neverthe-
less, said more — said it in a lan-
guage that only women can fully
understand and only women know
how to use to best advantage.
The man wearing the uniform cap
then accompanied us down to the
dock where we had landed the eve-
ning before. Once more we boarded
ship for a journey of scarcely
twenty four hours. A woman, who
was on the ship, gave grandmother
and me tea and buttered bread twice
during the day. Grandfather, how-
ever, tasted nothing but water for a
day and a half. When we left the
ship we boarded a train which tra-
velled very fast all that day and far
into the night. At last a loud shout
announced “Halifax” and the train
stopped shortly thereafter.
“Thank God,” said my grand-
father, “at last we have arrived in
Halifax.”
Then we left the coach. The night
was pitch dark and cold. The people
that had come with us vanished in-
stantly into the darkness so that
after a short while we three stood
alone on the station platform. We
were hungry, the cold night breeze
pierced us through, we were without
money, without a language, without
shelter, without everything, —
strangers in a foreign land. The pro-
spect was anything but promising.
Immigrants that arrive now from
Iceland enjoy different receptions.
Now, most of them have friends and
relatives here that await them at
the railway stations; friends and re-
latives that receive them with open-
armed hospitality and do all that
they possibly can to let the new-
comers feel that they have arrived
in a land of comfort and prosperity.
Everything, however, was different
when we arrived in this country. At
that time there were only a very
few Icelanders here who were wide-
ly scattered all over the country and
had their hands full in providing for
themselves. No, not many would
have cared to find themselves in our
shoes then, for although we had ar-
rived in Halifax our future was
nevertheless very gloomy.
“No this won’t do,” said my grand-
father when we had stood for a
while at the station. “I am going to
find someone to talk to. You wait
here in the meantime.”
Then he disappeared into the
darkness just as if he were quite
familiar with this city. Grandmother
and I sat down on the sidewalk. She
wrapped her shawl around me and I
sat in her lap. We sat there on the
sidewalk in silence and awaited my
grandfather’s return. Shortly after
he left, a man came to us and said