No, I will not see your face again, mother. I will die here. I remained bed-ridden for more than one day and stopped eating and drinking. I was awaiting death.

The storm calmed down and Roma survived the sinking. I thanked the Lord for his generosity and two days later we asked: ‘How long do we still need to arrive? We are tired of traveling by sea.’ They said “two days.”

No sooner had the dawn of the day of arrival to shore broke than I was all dressed and on board. I could not see the Statue of Liberty as we were sailing down a stream with land to both our left and right. ‘Where are we?’, we asked the sailor. ‘On our way to Providence, capital of Rhode Island.’

‘What about New York?’ We inquired. ‘You will get there by train. It leaves this port at 9:00 am.’

As I started to look at the signs and banners posted on the sides of the stream- whether it was a bay or a river, I could not tell- a large board reading ‘Hot Dogs’ drew my attention. What could it possibly be? Another board read ‘Lucky Strike’. What could that possibly mean also? Are they welcoming us?.