Eighteenth installment from the diary of my great-grandfather’s sister Alise, written during the First World War. When the diary starts, she is living just a few miles from the front lines of the Eastern Front, and is then forced to flee with her husband and two young daughters to her family’s house near Limbaži as the war moves even closer. It was here that her third child, a son, was born in February 1916. For more background, see here, and click on the tag “diary entries” to see all of the entries that I have posted.
April 1, 1916
I’m reading from the journals sent by the minister’s wife. Some of them have such beautiful meaningful poems… We are still living in the upstairs room at Kroņi. Papa headed off again to look for a place to live. Trūtiņa and Dagmāra are very healthy and are playing with their nanny. Olģerts is crawling very well and is a quiet and dear child. But still that ear is troubling me. I look for satisfaction everywhere, and I am reading the book “Hinter den Waldern” where there is a child born without irises and with a cleft palate, but still plays like a normal child without any cares.