New Zealand's First Refugees: Pahiatua's Polish Children
After the dryness of Central Asia and Iran, the rolling pastures around Pahiatua seemed to call us to enjoy their freshness and beauty. One day we went to a farmhouse and asked the owner for permission to play on his property. As my command of English consisted of only a few words, I had to gesture with my hands to make him understand that we would like to go over there and play. He nodding and said yes. Usually I was timid, but I found a new freedom when we ran, sang and rolled down the gentle slope.