This is me, Hana Muchnik, photographed in Bendery before I retired in 1978, I am wearing the medal of a Veteran of Labor and an A-financial officer.
In early 1953, I moved to work in Bendery. I worked as a financial officer in this town for 25 years.
In 1957 my dearest little daughter was born. I named her Goldina after my mother. She was a sweet and lovely girl. She studied well at school and had the dream to study in a college. We led a modest life. Financial employees had low salaries. However, we had everything we needed. I could even afford to take my daughter to the seashore every summer. Perhaps, this wasn’t good for her. Goldina suddenly fell seriously ill at the age of 17: she happened to have lupus, a rare disease of the immune system. The doctors didn’t know the cause of the disease, but they said it might have been radiation at the sea. My dear little daughter died in 1974, and my life lost any sense whatsoever. I didn’t live my life: I existed. Isaac was also much affected by our daughter’s death. Being a man, he couldn’t show his tears and suffering, but it was very hard on him. In 1976 my husband died from a heart attack. I buried him beside my daughter in the town cemetery in Bendery. There were no rituals, but my father-in-law recited the mourning prayer.
