Today’s story is told by Debra Ullrick.
Here’s Debra:

“Talk about a strong woman. My grandma was one. She didn’t speak English, but that never stopped her from letting us know how much she loved us. Her hugs were sweet and filled with love. Her wrinkled hands tenderly patted our cheeks, and her blue eyes overflowed with kindness. Special treats always awaited our visits. As we sat at Grandma’s feet, she relayed stories in German to my mother who translated them into English to us kids.
Grandma spoke of the Bolsheviks, and how when they were starting to form, food became scarce in Marienfield, Russia. And how in 1911, Grandpa had decided to follow his dreams to make a better life for them. With the Russian government’s approval and a six month visa, he left Grandma and her four children and headed to the United States.
Because the Volga’s—Germans who came over from Germany to Russia with Catherine The Great in the 18th century—had been given land and were growing in population, the Bolsheviks, now a massive army of power and strength started raping and torturing the Volga people.
Grandma spoke about risking her life many times when she hid her two eldest sons from the Bolsheviks so that they wouldn’t be forced to join the Bolsheviks army. Grandma lived in constant turmoil, and endured the death of her two sons, famine, drought, a massive epidemic, family members dying due to starvation, disease, and extreme torture by the Bolsheviks. Yet Grandma never wrote Grandpa how bad things were. She didn’t want him to worry. Plus she thought it would pass. But it didn’t.
Even though eight long years had passed since Grandpa left for America, Grandma had never given up hope, and her faith in God remained steadfast. She knew one day she’d be reunited with Grandpa. Her prayers were finally answered when Dr. Valentin Rothermel came to Marienfield and offered the Germans a way out of Russia. Grandma left her land, belongings, and much of her family, to set out on a long arduous journey to America. She spent four days on a wagon, then five and half months on a train, living in a box car, where she endured vile living conditions, watched people and loved ones drop like flies due to extreme cold, pneumonia, diseases, and starvation. They hauled their bodies off like cattle in a truck.

Years later with her German Bible on her lap (now in a place of honor in my home), Grandma’s blue eyes paled when she reminisced about being forced to leave her son behind because he took to the Scarlet Fever. Those same eyes, however, brightened when she praised God for a friend who had recognized her son and brought him to her.
Grandma shared how it took two long years of traveling to finally reunite with Grandpa. Her favorite saying was, “There’s no road too far where love takes you.” Face all aglow, Grandma spoke of her beloved savior Christ, and how He was the One that kept her going through it all. While my heroine in Déjà vu Bride, the sequel to The Bride Wore Coveralls, may not have maintained her faith after the loss of so many loved ones and after enduring one tragedy after another, she did move miles away to start over. It takes a lot of resilience and courage to move to a strange town, or like my grandma, a strange country.

I can so relate to Olivia. In ranching when you lose your job, you lose your home too. I’ve been uprooted over thirty times. Like Olivia, many times my prayers seemed to have gone unanswered, and I endured spiritual and mental abuse and turned my back on God. Acts of love restored my faith. I’ll leave it at that. *smiling*