Russian immigrants Mark and Vera Mednikov taught me about life in my own country—the U.S.

This lovely story tells how much this woman learned about her own country through the eyes of an immigrant. - - Donna Poisl

By Bonnie Miller Rubin

Thirty years ago, back when we were a young married couple living in Minneapolis, my husband and I volunteered to help a family of Russian immigrants.

I'm not sure why we raised our hands. Now, I think it was some combination of longing for family, altruism and a nod to our roots (our own grandparents had made the same trip almost a century earlier).

Our job was simple: Guide these greenhorns as they became acclimated to American life, from opening a checking account to registering their then-5-year-old daughter for kindergarten.

Easy enough. We'd fulfill our six-month commitment, chalk up some mitzvah (good deed) points and call it a day.

How could we possibly know that when our designated family—Mark and Vera Mednikov and their daughter Maria—walked off the plane, we'd be the ones embarking on a lifelong adventure?
Be sure to read the rest of this story! This is only a small part of it.