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

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

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.

…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.

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

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

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,

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.

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

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

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!..."

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

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

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.

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.

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

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

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

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.

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

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

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 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.

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

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

We took one bit and gagged - SALTED BUTTER!

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.

My father had left everything and everybody that he knew to give his family an opportunity at a better life. It worked.

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

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

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!

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

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.

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

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

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

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.

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

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

I hungrily bit into the slice that was offered and I got the first shock in this new country

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!!!

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

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

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

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

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 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 father and his friends built our first house in 1953.

I'm proud of my new country Canada, because of the culture, diversity positive people; it feels like home away from home. Some things that I appreciated about Canada were that Canadians stand up for what’s right and they work hard to keep the environment clean and safe. They’re also friendly and will do anything to help each other and the stores open early rather than at one in the afternoon. Now that I think about it, I feel very happy and grateful to live in Canada. Canada feels like home.

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.

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

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.

Hungarian Revolution Refugees in 1956 / Jewish Public Library Archives.

R.M.S. Ascania, 1953. 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. As soon as it was legally possible, we became Canadians. Canada became our country and we love Canada.

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.

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.

... 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...

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

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.

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.

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.

Evacuee children on board the S.S. Duchess of Bedford, 1939. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

I never found those gold nuggets, however, Canada gave me more than gold. A place where freedom surpasses ones’ wildest dreams, where you can look at yourself in the mirror and be thankful for what you have accomplished. This is an immeasurable country, full of opportunities. God Bless this land. In 1955, I crossed the Atlantic Ocean, landed at Pier 21 with a small suitcase, a one way train ticket west and $50 bucks in my pocket. Canada is home, what more can I say "O’ CANADA" thank you.

Ukrainian family on board the R.M.S. Aquitania, December 1947. 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.

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!

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

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

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.

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

Heidi Hart on board the S.S. Beaverbrae, March 1949. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

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

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.

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...

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.

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