Dear Malka,
Today you should all be on board the Orduña. Papa has not received any news from Mama, so we hope you made it and are doing well.
We went to the travel office early this morning and spoke to the woman with the long braid who sold us the steamship tickets, but she said she isn’t allowed to share information about the passengers.
“The Orduña will arrive ten days from now in Havana,” she told us. Then she added, “Ten days . . . unless anything unexpected happens at sea.”
She crossed herself and that scared me.
Then she looked around nervously. After making sure no one was listening, she whispered to us, “I shouldn’t tell you this, but it’s in the newspapers.” She pointed to an article in the Diario de la Marina. “There are rumors the government is going to close the door to Hebrew refugees. They think there are too many refugees and they’re taking jobs away from Cubans.”
Papa said, “But you sold us the steamship tickets.”
“We’re selling steamship tickets to anybody who wants to buy them. We’re salespeople. We just hope that the government will let everyone who has a ticket and a visa enter the island.”
Oh, Malka, how our hearts sunk to hear this. We’ve worked so hard to bring you all to Cuba, to be reunited as a family. And now, was it possible that the hatred has settled here and that you might arrive at the port and not be allowed in?
The woman with the long braid looked at me with pity. “I am very sorry, señorita. As I said, these are just rumors. Let’s not start worrying yet. Let’s pray your family makes a safe journey.”
Papa and I left the travel office so sad that neither of us could speak.
In the evening, before I sat down to write this letter, I listened intently to Papa’s prayers and told myself I was going to have to pray more too.
With all my love,
ESTHER