Eating Half the Crust of a Loaf of Bread

romanian-franzela Photo credit: 1 decembrie.com
I can sleep better at night now that the specter of global communism has temporarily dissipated from our America with the election and confirmation by the Electoral College of our 45th president, Donald Trump.

One cannot imagine my temporary relief and inner peace, not having to hear Hillary’s hectoring voice, giving us lectures on social justice, equality, racism, bigotry, and white privilege, while banking billions of other people’s money.

Her voice reminded me of Elena Ceausescu, the “mother,” co-creator and conspirator of our communist misery and exploitation we had to endure for decades. She and her husband brought an entire nation to its knees with a Stalinist police state that was state of the art at the time.

On a really cold day like today, 22 degrees Fahrenheit, I remember my gloveless fingers turning red in the frigid air but holding on tight to my precious loaf of bread called “franzela.” I had waited in line for a long time to buy it and nobody let me ahead of the line because I was a child, it was a fight for survival.

No crayons, coloring books, or puppies to comfort and shield me from the harsh reality. I was fighting, in a small way, for our daily existence. There was no safe space for me to crawl into except my mother’s arms. And she was too busy to give hugs to her scared and cold little girl who did not understand that other people, in faraway lands, lived much better lives even in their darkest days. There was no time or place for pampering, we had to become hardened and learn fast how to survive.

We did not need a “safe space” from reality, reality was surrounding and suffocating us, there was no other place to go. If we had the easy and coddled life of precious American snowflakes, full of awards, rewards, and undeserved and unearned praises, we would have never wanted to escape to an imagined “safe space.”

As a six-year old, if I did not lose the money along the way, and if I found bread at the communist corner store, I ate a good portion of the crust on the way home, knowing that mom would be mad and there would be consequences. But I was so hungry and the loaf was still warm from the oven. That loaf of bread had to last a few days with mom’s soup made from bones bought at the communist butcher shop and stripped bare of any meat. We were only entitled to 2.5 kg of meat per month, with rationing cards.

Look around you, at the abundant grocery stores, your warm homes, with water, electricity, natural gas, stove, microwave, dishwasher, refrigerator, and plenty of food. You have indoor plumbing, bathrooms, a washing machine, the latest devices money can buy, TV, a myriad of channels for entertainment, warm clothes, multiple pairs of shoes, a warm bed, and lots of books and toys.

What are you really missing in your lives, in your standard of living? Who is exploiting you and controlling your minds? Your college professors and community organizers are filling your minds with imagined racism, bigotry, and intolerance you harp about non-stop, while looting and destroying other people’s property in the process of demonstrating your lunacy. Count your blessings before you wish for socialism and communism!

When I first started teaching full time in the 80s at a preparatory school for college in the south, I used to tell my classes stories of what life was like under socialism/communism; it was not the failed multicultural socialism you admire in western Europe. It was the socialism in Eastern Europe, behind the Iron Curtain.

When students asked questions, I told them frankly how it felt to be exploited by communism, to have your spirit destroyed, to be kept hungry, cold, and without hope for any future; what it was like to be stripped of all personal possessions, land, home, and individuality, to be stuck in tiny cinder block apartments, to be jailed because you had something extra in your home that was not reported to the all-mighty Communist Party that had every right to confiscate what you owned and distribute it amongst themselves as a reward for their “purity of Marxist thought.” And there was no law or justice to protect and defend us. And we had no guns because they had been confiscated as well.

When students joked, “yeah, you had to walk uphill barefoot in the snow to get to school,” I realized quickly that students had been so thoroughly brainwashed that they laughed and giggled at my stories, so I stopped telling them anything. The reality of the cruel communist life was just a joke to them.

It was impossible to educate people who had been so methodically programmed by their activist socialist teachers before me. Logic would have dictated that they would have asked themselves, if socialism was so great, why were all these people leaving their countries and their loved ones behind, everything they’ve ever known and loved, often at great risk if they defected, to come to the United States, to the west? And why are not Americans flocking to move to the then USSR, Cuba, China, or North Korea, their utopian paradise?

Why are all these “refugees” from the Middle East coming to the United States, into small and conservative communities around the country, if we are such a racist, intolerant, and bigoted country? Do they enjoy our generous welfare system offered to them on a silver platter, a ridiculous system that does not require anything of them in return, not even assimilation?

If you don’t fight to preserve your country, if you don’t stop listening to the brainwashing from schools and the MSM, how long is it going to be, young know-it-alls, before these “refugees” colonize you and your “social justice” narrative? They are already on their way colonizing and Islamizing Europe.

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