Batschsentiwan
                

The old oak tree that had grown so tall,
had sprouted from an acorn small.
Our ancestors planted this tiny seed,
to find joy and security, when in need.

As pioneers they came to these barren lands,
to build a church, a town, with bare hands.
To build new homes with the sweat of their brow,
to build new lives, a future here and now.

The old oak tree saw new life born so beautiful,
children singing, playing, going to school.
Young couples courting in her shade,
wedding bells ringing, O' how happy it her made.

She stood there deeply rooted for 200 years,
so mighty, so proud, without any fears.
She weathered fierce storms, where she's lost count,
the storms could not break her, nor blow her about.

The hours that have come to burden her now,
are far greater than even her mighty branches can allow.
The devastating war that came her way,
raped, pillaged and took all her children away.

To death camps they were marched from everywhere,
to starve and suffer, didn't anybody care?
She saw many people lose their innocent lives,
in our own homeland, in Russia, the children, the wives.

The weight of the pain that surrounded her now,
forced her leaves to whither and her branches to bow.
No longer could she bear it, it tore her apart,
no longer could she stand it, it shattered her heart.

Those strong hearted that managed to survive,
escaped to the free world to build a new life.
we shall never forget, it’s etched deep in each mind,
Our loved ones and homeland that we left behind.

As our painful memories slowly subside,
we look toward the future that our families provide.
As I look through the window, what do I see,
a tiny seedling sprouting up becoming a new tree.