At first everything was fine, in that growing community of Jews, they opened their doors, and shared what they had with all the newly arrived, including home and food.
My mother was very nostalgic, she hardly went out to the street, since she said that everything seemed very strange, she also had the difficulty of the language, so she feared that if some authority stopped her, she would not know what to answer, despite being already safe in a different country, she kept thinking about everything she had to leave behind.
My father, on the other hand, spent all his time outside, trying to find work, and although some of those new acquaintances had proposed him to work with them, he had rejected those proposals. I am not sure if it was pride, or not wanting to a***e more of the kindness of
