Day 3: A New Home

For the first few weeks in Toronto we stayed with my cousin in the GTA (Greater Toronto Area). During this time we took the bus into the city to find an apartment and, once a place was found that we liked (it had to have a park nearby for the children to play in), we began buying items for our new place. We had arrived with only our suitcases and therefore  had only clothing to fill our closets. Mattresses were bought; a sofa was organised; a dining table was given to us by my cousin’s friend; cutlery and crockery was given to us by my cousin’s wife; a broom and cleaning essentials were added to our stash; and a few grocery items were put in a box.

We moved into our new home on a Saturday morning. I was grateful for the extra hands that hung up donated curtains and made up the beds for the children. I was pleased to see the creation of a bedroom for my stepson in the living area with the use of wooden partitions. The shower curtain I had bought was hung up, and the cupboards were filled. The place was a hum of activity as our new home was set up.

The evening arrived and we were left alone. The five of us sat on our single sofa and looked at our new home. The rooms were empty of knick-knacks, the curtains too long, and the walls were bare. This was the place where we would begin our new lives and from which we would experience living in the city.

photo (10)If you have missed any of my Migrating North posts, head on over here

© Colline Kook-Chun, 2014

(This post was written for the FMF 31 day challenge hosted by Kate Motaung. Today’s FMF prompt is: new)

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22 thoughts on “Day 3: A New Home

    1. It certainly has become that as the years have passed. In the beginning there were many tears (on my part) and much anxiety. Now, however, more positive emotions reign.

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  1. I see a clear picture! I started only with a borrowed put together bed. The next was n fridge. Second hand chairs later filled the lounge and are still used today. I know you are going to get every thing needed at the end

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  2. I guess many of us dream of moving to another country, but the reality must feel harsh, you are used to your own things, a way of life and a lifetime building possessions. Saying that, In your memoirs, I sense a spirit of hope and excitement. 🙂

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