The word for homeless in Dutch is “Dakloos” which literally translates to “Roofless”. Since I lost my only home in the shipwreck I qualify for homeless status. But I have no worries in finding a roof over my head. Thanks to the generosity of friends and family and total strangers, at first. Besides shelter I am also overwhelmed by the material and moral assistance, love and friendship I have received in the last months. I count my blessings but it is easy to lose track when it is poured out in such generous amounts.
Yesterday I received the Newsletter from the web site for the neighborhood I grew up in and it lists an article I had sent in about a picture I discovered in the portfolio of a young Ukranian artist that was painted of a spot that held very special memories of my growing up in the old neighborhood.see:
http://www.geheugenvanplanzuid.nl/index.php/nieuwsbrieven/435-nieuwsbrief-37
I mailed the link to the young lady Helen (Elena) Prokopovich and she responded that her visa had run out in Holland and that she is back in her home country. Which right now is a war zone. And she writes that she has a new web site www.prohelen.com and that she wrote about the way we met in her blog at :http://www.prohelen.com/?tag=schinkel She wrote it in English and I’d like for you to read this. These encounters make this “homeless” life so sweet. Dyakuyu! Spasybi! Elena.
- Elena Prokopovich at “De Schinkel” in August 2013
