The End of Days (5 page)

Read The End of Days Online

Authors: Helen Sendyk

Tags: #Biography & Autobiography, #Historical, #History, #Holocaust, #test

BOOK: The End of Days
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Page 19
muttered swear from the intruder. But no! He realizes in astonishment that what he heard was the holy Jewish prayer of
Shema Yisrael
Hear O' Israel. He automatically answers with the end of the verse, '
Hashem elokeinu, hashem echad
'the Lord our God, the Lord is one. Lowering his rifle, he now approaches the stranger.
"Their embrace begins with
shalom aleichem
,peace be unto you, and the answer of
aleichem shalom
, unto you be peace. The two soldiers not only find out that they are both Jewish, but that they are distantly related, even though they are fighting on opposite sides. The discussion develops, and each one tries to prove his loyalty to his army, his country, and his king. As a result, they conclude that they are obligated to kill each other.
"But how could they? What would their wives, who are distant cousins, tell all their children about their fathers? With emotions high but with national loyalties still strong, they search for a solution. They can't hurt each other and they can't convince their countries to call off the war. They therefore decide to desert together from the battlefield. They go into hiding, where they work long and hard on a joint letter begging for forgiveness from their respective kings, explaining the noble motives for their desertion. By the time the letter is finally ready, the Russians have invaded Poland. The two distant cousins now find themselves to be comrades in the same country, subject to the same authority, and finally able to fight on the same side."
The children happily clap their hands, satisfied with the wonderful solution to the problem. The adults smile and await Papa's inevitable closing commentary.
"The only problem that remains," Papa sighed, "is they are sure to meet other Jews on the next battlefield."
Everyone liked the story, and the adults went on to discuss how Jews are forced to fight each other for kings and lands that don't accept them as equals. The rulers then expel the Jews at will. The countries we shed our blood for will not protect us in time of need.
When the coals in the oven stopped crackling and the metal of the potbellied stove lost its red glow, it was time to bundle
 
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the children up again and return home. The streets were dark and cold, with only here and there a gas lamp lighting up the street. The marketplace, so busy by day, looked like a dark ocean, the empty stalls like abandoned ships. Unlike Sholek, I needed no encouragement to keep hold of Papa's hand.
"There is Uncle Nachman's stall," Papa would point out when we passed it, "and this one is Moishe the shoemaker's, beside Beila with her notions."
We wondered how Papa recognized every market stand in the dark without their occupants.
"When you grow up," Papa would explain, "and live in this town as long as I have, you will know it this well too. Even in your dreams you will walk these streets, like the rooms of your own home."
Aunt Esther, Mama's sister, would visit on Sabbath afternoons and try to distract Mama from her monotonous life of devotion to Goldzia. She would offer to stay with Goldzia so that Mama could go out, or offer to go out with Mama for a walk.
"Surcia, you have attained sainthood," Aunt Esther would say. "God will surely reward you with plenty of
nachas
from all your children."
But Mama would not listen, would not budge. Instead, she limited her horizon to Goldzia. A storm was brewing there. Goldzia's body was no longer obeying her brain, and her words were often slurred. Only Mama understood her. Calmly, Mama would stroke her golden head and assure her, "I know how you feel, my child, but I am perfectly content. I don't want to go anywhere. Here at home is my happiness, with Papa and all my children. I believe that our Father in Heaven is righteous in his judgment and will reward us when he finds us worthy. So we must believe and pray, and we shall live to see the coming of the Messiah."
On that note I would get very intrigued and ask Mama, "Is it true that when the Messiah comes there will be bridges of paper to span the oceans, and that Jews from all over the world will roll over these bridges all the way to the land of Palestine?
 
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And will all the dead people really rise from their graves and roll to Palestine too?"
"That's right, my dear," Mama would answer.
"But how will there be room for all those people in Palestine?" I'd ask.
"Because it would be the time of the Messiah," Mama would patiently answer.
The festival of Purim was fast approaching, and Vrumek was getting nervous. There was a play to be performed for charity, and Vrumek was afraid that his friends treated the project too lightly. Vrumek the director wanted his cast to transcend their daily lives and project themselves into the dramatic lives of their ancestors.
Vrumek was proudly responsible tot costuming, staging, and casting. He was anxious to prove himself to his
melamed
(teacher) who had taught him Midrash, Talmud, and many tales and legends of the Jews, their joys and sorrows, their suffering and survival. Jewish heroes and heroines were models to him, and Vrumek wished he could have fought with Judah the Maccabee against the Syrian Greeks. He liked to live the lives of famous Jewish personalities through the different plays he put on during the various Jewish holidays. Vrumek's casting skills were keen enough to have his spoiled, dreamy little brother Sholek play Joseph.
The main benefit of the plays was entertaining the bedridden Goldzia, who rewarded Vrumek with an angelic smile. The Book of Esther was read at Goldzia's bedside when Purim arrived. Then everyone paraded down the street dressed in costumes. Blimcia was a Japanese geisha in a black robe embroidered with red, blue, and gold dragons. Shlamek, a black patch on his eye and a red handkerchief tied on his head, looked like a real pirate. Heshek, the traditionalist, wore Papa's long silk robe and
streimel
(fur hat), along with a beard pasted to his face. Nachcia, in a black dress and white cap of her own creation, looked like a perfect chambermaid. Sholek was gotten up as a paperboy; I was Little Red Riding Hood.
 
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Vrumek was too busy with costumes for the play, but even Goldzia had her face made up as a clown.
On the morning of Purim, Mama busily prepared baskets of fruits, nuts, and goodies to be sent as
shloach manos
, gifts to relatives and friends, and
matonas l'evyonim
, gifts to the poor. Like bees, Sholek and I dashed around the neighborhood laden with baskets to deliver. With broad smiles we would sing,
"Heint is purim, morgen is ois; git mir a groszen un warft mich arois":
Today is Purim, tomorrow is not; give me a penny and then throw me out.
The streets were full of costumed children; Jews everywhere left their worries behind them to celebrate the triumph of good over evil, of Queen Esther and her uncle Mordechai over the villain Haman. Yet, centuries later, these celebrations were often disrupted by Haman's spiritual heirs: eager to disrupt the Jewish holiday, gangs of non-Jews would swell the streets looking to provoke a fight. And so that year a bunch of young thugs started up with two fellows dressed for a Purim party.
They began by calling the Jews ugly names, and when ignored, they proceeded to throw stones. They finally cornered the two Jewish boys in an attempt to beat them up. Badly outnumbered, the Jews had to fight their way out and flee for their lives, with cries of "Jew cowards" ringing in their ears. Panting heavily and with bloody noses, the two battered celebrants reached the party. Their friends washed their faces, bandaged their bruises, and calmed their fears. A heated discussion followed, because some felt they must go out to beat up the culprits and defend Jewish honor. Others said that those goyim were probably drunk, and they shouldn't be allowed to further disrupt the celebration.
"Swallow your pride for now," they said, "and wait for a more suitable time."
"Just when do you suppose the time could be more suitable?" came the exasperated response. The cooler heads prevailed.
On Christian holidays we had to lie low; that's when they were sure to be roaming the streets looking for trouble. On our festival of Pesach, Passover, we had to be extremely careful to
 
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stay out of their way. Passover was the traditional time when Christians would proclaim the libel that Jews use Christian blood in the baking of matzo. Those that used the big lie knew well that our religion forbids us the use even of animal blood. Our meat was always soaked and salted to extract the last drop of blood.
The Purim play at our house was set for four o'clock. In the afternoon chairs were set up in our big kitchen, with the stage facing Goldzia's bed. After a few typical mishaps the play concluded with a burst of generous applause. Vrumek, the producer-director, basked in his newfound fame. Goldzia was beaming with joy; Mama was serving
hamantashen
, traditional Purim pastry; Papa was keeping the last guests entertained with jokes. Great-aunt Channa and Grandma Chaya just sat there smiling contentedly. Channa praised Surcia in her sister's hearing for raising such fine children.
In the meantime Shlamek called his cousin Hania out into the yard, where they could be alone. He had adored Hania for a long time and was eager to look into those deep brown eyes whenever he could. Hania's heart was pounding, as she too was yearning for such a moment. But now, as she stood there facing him, she hid her hands behind her back. She was afraid she could not resist if he reached over and took her hand. "Shlamek, don't say those things," she protested, embarrassed at his compliments. "You are my cousin and are not allowed to act this way."
"But Hania," he protested, "I love you. What's wrong with being your cousin. I'm not going to listen to any old wives' tales about not marrying cousins. It's permissible, you know. I will not look at other girls. None of them have eyes as beautiful as yours, or hair as dark as yours, or a smile like yours that melts my heart."
She would not let him kiss her trembling lips, fiercely clinging to traditions that forbade such intimacy before marriage. "When will you finally see it my way, Hania," he pleaded, "and let me kiss you?"
People began spilling out into the yard. Given a reprieve, Hania left with her parents.
 
Page 24
Chapter 2
Mama was at her station beside Goldzia's bed, a prayer book open in her lap. It was slowly getting dark outside. The men had gone to shul for evening prayers. Nachcia was out with her girlfriends in the B'nos organization. I was sitting close to Mama in the dim light of dusk, repeating after her: ''God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob protect thy people Israel. Your holy Sabbath day is departing; may the new week greet us with good health and good fortune."
"If you will be a very good girl tonight," said Mama, "I will let you stay up. But you must not bother any of the guests that are coming to the house tonight."
"I will be as quiet as a mouse," I promised, "but who so important is coming tonight?"
 
Page 25
"It is a fellow to see Blimcia, and you must stay out of his way."
I sat quietly in a corner observing Jacob, Blimcia's caller. I don't know if I liked him just then. He was tall but did not sit upright. His forehead was high, with a hairline somewhat receding. He had a sensual mouth, slightly protruding ears, and a high-bridged nose. The most interesting feature about him was his eyes. They were soft gray, with a sad look in them.
Blimcia wore a green dress to accentuate her emerald eyes. She was smiling, rosy-cheeked and as pretty as ever. Jacob looked her over, and Blimcia lowered her gaze. Silently presiding over the evening was an older man whom I later discovered was the matchmaker. Papa spent most of the time talking to Jacob, seeming very pleased. Mama was busy serving tea with lump sugar. Everything must have gone well, for Blimcia agreed to go on a date with Jacob.
What we did not know was that Blimcia had already met Jacob at her Mizrachi organization quite some time ago. I don't think Papa ever found that out. He was spared a lot of details that he was not supposed to know. Years later, for instance, when Heshek and Vrumek would come visiting from Bielsko wearing modern short tailored suits, the boys would quickly change into long traditional coats just to please Papa. And Papa, as smart as he was, so believed that his sons dressed traditionally all the time that he would even brag about it.
After Blimcia got married, everybody but Papa learned exactly how she had met Jacob. The true matchmaker was a Young Zionist meeting, where Blimcia was intrigued by a staring stranger. As soon as Blimcia arrived at the next Mizrachi meeting, her friend Srulek walked over to her with someone in tow. With a thud of her heart she noticed that it was the stranger who had been observing her so intently at the last meeting.
"This is Jacob," Srulek said, "a new member."
"Good of you to join," Blimcia said. "We need every person."

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