From Christmas to Christmas, Diary to Diary, Blog to Blog

It was in Budapest, Hungary, when I begun to live for many weeks in a cellar. Hiding from Nazis and from the Russian tanks shells falling around. It was Christmas 1944, at age 10 ½ that I received my first diary.

"I am happy tonight, even if we are in war."

Then I described the gifts I received. This blue and white small diary and a pen to write in it was between my gifts.

Next day, last time outside on street for three month with my dad "some bombs come but no one died". I did not add, I have seen a dead horse on the corner of the street. But I still remember. Diaries, and stories are created and we write, tell what we want into them. True to the feelings, not "all truth, nothing but the truth".

My first diary finished Christmas 1947: I lived again in Cluj, Transylvania that become again Romania. I looked at my mirror, and was happy I grew bigger. No more child, an adolescent!

I have never stopped writing diaries.

Whenever something was important to me, sorrow or joy. At 60, I decided to translate all my diaries, mostly from Hungarian, to French and publish them. That is how I discovered Blogger: an easy way to publish them myself.

Here are most of my diaries, slowly, all translated and published - in French. I also published, my first diary only in English. So much work! But the others, can be also translated through Google, in an English more or less good.

First, I wanted to publish them through an Editor, but realized that Diaries are kept in the cellar of the shop. So why let them disappear? A website? I could not create.

I was so happy to discover Blogger! blogspot! I could create more then one blog! The first one was for my diaries, the second one, parallel, for my day to day current life. Il y a de la vie après 70 ans, There is life after 70, got half million hits through writing morning after morning for ten years.

I also wrote Competent Communicator, about telling stories, giving speeches and standup comedy. And finally, May last year I come back to blogging through this blog.

From diary to diary and blog to blog, I arrive to this Christmas!

She is a Toastmaster, or was a Toastmaster, in one of my London Clubs. When, a few days ago I was very upset, as my usual provider for whom I paid to next day free delivery, decided "no delivery for a week".

I am alone! I will have no meat, no bred, no margarin, no fruit all Christmas time, that I spend alone! I wrote about it in Facebook. And here she comes and offers to make my shopping and bring it home.

They came two and got me even in plus, some British Christmas cookies! And warmth and friendship too.

How long did I not have such a wonderful "real bread" either! She discovered Zoom and different backgrounds, and I met her friend, he was also my Santa 2018 ! Photos on my Facebook page.

In a few hours, I have to tell a new Icebreaker, online, all the way to West Canada shores, and here is my story. From Christmas to Christmas, from Diary to Blog, all the way to this Christmas Eve.

Whoever says "we do not want other Icebreaker"? We always have something different to tell!

I could tell, only from this blogpost, at least three different tales, Icebreakers!

One with my Christmas 1944 and all around it, and my first diary and what I wrote in it. One with how I discovered blogging to publish my diaries. And yet another with this year Santas arriving with food and warmth and friendship to my apartment, the day I needed them most, the day I felt more lonely.