For her few years spent in Poland, my great grandmother could recall only a handful of memories, but those she did remember are surprisingly detailed. Millie lived in a one-room home heated solely by a small white tile stove in the corner and had no indoor plumbing whatsoever. Her father, who was a blacksmith, had a forgery near the home. She vividly recalls "the feel of the hard packed dirt under my feet and the noise of the anvil." Another core memory of her childhood was going into town and buying small paper cones of ice cream, which she remembers fondly: "Perhaps because it was the only sweet thing I remember having, that has made this confection so unforgettable to me." In stark contrast to the sweetness of the ice cream, Grandma Millie wrote the following about the Russian presence in Minsk Maziowiecki – a confusing and dangerous situation for a young child – in a brief autobiography:

"On Sundays, all the church bells would ring and I knew that it was time to climb the fence outside and watch. Not too far from the soldier garrison, it was set in a large meadow surrounded by trees. On Sundays, the entire garrison would assemble in the meadow and gallop past our house. I remember the sparkling swords swaying at their sides, bright colored uniforms, cloaks flapping in the breeze and the magnificent horses. Quite a sight for a child! I thought they were wonderful and clapped. Mother made me stop. It was not a good idea to call attention to oneself. Jews were seen but not heard."