My parents, brother and I would like to thank the Canadian government and its people for allowing us to be part of them, and we are. May God Bless this beautiful land called Canada

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.

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

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.

I was born in Denmark (1931) and raised in Jylland. As a teen-ager I was endowed with an adventurous spirit; as I read stories of pioneering in Canada, I determined that I would someday emigrate to that country.

Passengers on board the S.S. Conte Biancamano, August 1954. Canadian Museum of Immigration at Pier 21.

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

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

We took one bit and gagged - SALTED BUTTER!

M.S. Saturnia, April 1959. 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.

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).

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

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

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

...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.

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.

Pier 21 airing gallery. Origins unknown.

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

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.

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

...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.

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.

In 1963 we bought our first house in West Vancouver

I came to Canada 2013. I lived in Regina. I am happy to visit in Moose Jaw Museum. There are a lot of interesting histories, I’m glad to know that. I am proud to live in Canada I am from Somalia.

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

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

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

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

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.

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

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.

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

Displaced people on board the S.S. Ostervag. Origins Unknown.

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

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.

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.

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

The Netherlands is our country of birth and always will be our homeland but now we are Canadian. We will be forever grateful to the staff and all who were, and are now, associated with Pier 21

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.

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.

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…

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.

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

... 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...

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

We had our first corn flakes and potatoes with the skin on (my mother always peeled the potatoes). Bacon and eggs, Canadian style, went down very well. My mother insisted we eat all the food, to show our appreciation.

My advice would be…Stay warm in the winter. Stop in at a Tim Horton. Try moose meat at least once. And keep smiling.

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.

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

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!

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.

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.

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

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.

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

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.

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

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!

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.

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.

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

Hungarian Revolution Refugees in 1956 / Jewish Public Library Archives.

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

If Pier 21 could talk it could tell many stories. I am indeed glad that now that the docks are often lined with cruise boats rather than immigrant ships. Our country recognizes the important role in history that it played over many decades. Certainly Pier 21 is an important marker in my life's journey.

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..

Image courtesy of Rina Caron.

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

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

"...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..."

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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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

I came to Canada from Brazil when I was 5 years old. I remember I had to leave all my xmas gifts and friends behind in Rio. It was very hard. Also, we arrived in winter and found it hard to breath the cold air. I had to teach myself how to inhale short breaths to be able to take in the cold!

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

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.