Browse Tagged “Immigration” from the Canadian Macedonian Heritage Society archive, library and community collections.
A bachelor who had grown old Returned back to his village; Half a century had passed In search of his own self. He stumbled over weary feet, Leaning on a long cane; His teeth were gone from years gone by, Yet he wore a handsome suit. He sat inside the coffeehouse And hardly spoke a word; He thought about the years long past, Hidden in a corner. The houses seemed so low to him, From centuries long ...
Friends came to see me From the great and busy city. “But why sit here like this?” they said, “You’ll grow faint and dizzy.” One night they took me with them To chase after the girls; But their brothers spotted us, And we scattered through the alleys. They brought me back at morning light, Straight into the kitchen; Half past five the day began, And the routine continued. There we worked ...
Four friends from the village, Met together at “Margareta,” And made a household of their own, Where ten men lived together at a time. For breakfast, they told us Cornflakes were the thing to eat. So we went and bought some, Certain we would dine properly. A giant box we carried home, Covered with many letters; It even had red little spots — They looked like strawberries. We poured in plenty of ...
I found my ancestors, And lit small candles With tears within my eyes. I spoke a few soft words to them — Though our little bones May rest in foreign soil, All our souls will meet again. Three friends came to the village From Canada afar. We gathered at the coffeehouse And passed our days in joy. Four bachelors arrived together, And married men departed; All four of us it seemed Had come away as ...
From the village we arrived At Bloor and Margaretta . There we met each other And lived ten by ten together. We formed a little colony, A migrant nest abroad. Families came one by one— With elders and with little children. The colony kept filling, Margaretta overflowed. Our village emptied slowly As people left ten by ten. Families grew larger, And there was no room for us all. The sorrows of the ...
GUS and GASTIS from the village Decided to open a restaurant. The two of them agreed at once Without a single comment. One would stand at the register The other would work in the kitchen. Soon they would open the doors And money would begin to pour in. A sign out front they prepared With their names displayed. Workers laboured inside And the two of them helped as well. Above the door the sign ...
Two brothers from Canada made up their minds one day to go, for one last time, to see their village far away. They had a few small fields and a little piece of land. “We’ll sell them,” they both said, “and drink some rakia while we can.” They left their suitcases at the hotel and started walking downhill. They called someone on their cell to say they’d reached the village still. They stood before ...
Her three sons left for foreign lands. One went off to Canada, another to Australia, and the third, the youngest, went to Germany. The years were difficult in their beautiful homeland. You leave your place behind when you have no hope. The brothers were separated, and the little cousins too. Their mother was left alone, wandering through the fields. With a pair of borrowed oxen she worked the ...
The Canadian Macedonian Historical Society hosted a talk titled “Macedonian Immigrants and Refugees – Two Authors, Three Novels,” featuring a discussion with authors Sylvia Karakaltsas and Tom Petsinis about their works A Perfect Stone, Fitzroy Raw, and Fog. The presentation explored the rare presence of Macedonian protagonists in English-language fiction and examined why the authors chose to focus on Macedonian history and identity. Through their novels, they depict the experiences of young Macedonian refugees and immigrants—highlighting themes of displacement, adaptation, and resilience. The discussion also անդրlined the role of research and personal narratives in shaping their stories, connecting these fictional accounts to the real-life experiences of many Macedonian families in the diaspora.
Canada you are indeed a land and nation of immigrants Many people heard you call and they came. Macedonians left their beloved homeland Your hopes and opportunities to claim. You invited them; come Aegean, come Pirin, come Vardar Come you resilient and strong peoples. Leave Macedonia, as children will someday leave the home. Come have families, build homes, build businesses, build churches with their steeples. You ...
