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20 OUR LIFE • December 2022 Marta Zielyk , Branch 64, New York City The pepper tin at the heart of this story, which Marta has kept for 45 years. I must give you fair warning: this is going to be a tearjerker of a sto - ry. So, be prepared with some tis - sues, or – if you are old school – a lacy handkerchief. Go ahead, I’ll wait right here. If I were an aspiring screenwrit - er pitching a Christmas movie to a Hallmark channel executive, I don’t think I could create a bet - ter scenario than what I am about to tell you. The difference is that every word of my story is true. The central prop here would be a small plain pepper tin, the old-fashioned kind with a red top and a Good Housekeeping seal of approval. It’s like a million other Gift of All The Most Generous pepper tins, only much rustier. Although this story took place one Christmas back in 1975, I still have that little container. It has been my treasured souvenir for nearly half a century. I was a Ukrainian Plast sestrychka (girl scout leader) of a group of sweet but rambunctious 8-year- old girls in New York. It was a cold Saturday in January when we started out on a traditional activ - ity for scouts at Christmas time: visiting Ukrainian households and caroling, in return for chari - table donations for Plast. My no- vachky (girl scouts) and I had a list of apartment buildings where Ukrainian families lived, and we sang the only carol we all could manage fairly well, “Boh Pred - vichny.” As their leader, I tried to maintain some semblance of or - der, but I was losing that battle. One of the girls lost her gloves, another ran across the street, at a red light no less, a third kept wandering away. After an hour of this, I was ready to call it quits. But my novach - ky begged me to visit one more home. Perhaps they were hop - ing to be treated to candy or chocolates, as sometimes hap - pens. I gave up and agreed. We approached the next building on
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