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My birthplace and the cradle of my childhood, Dunayivtsi, which is in Ukraine, was divided into two - the new city and the old city.

Many years ago, a decent number of German families settled here, they founded textile factories for themselves (“Arig Dunayivtsi”), built themselves beautiful stone houses, planted gardens and nurseries, and all with great precision in the German fashion. The men were strong and lithe and the women were fat and stout. Their sons and daughters rode bicycles and engaged in all kinds of sports. On Sundays and other days, they would go out in carriages drawn by knightly horses. And their firemen's association, which is conducted in a kind of military discipline.

There the streets are paved and order and cleanliness prevail.

Your entrance to the new city, indeed far away, far away their church building rises in glory, all drowned in greenery and two rows of tall oaks, protecting it from this and that. Healthy yellow-haired and blue-eyed boys and girls play on the wide green velvet-like bed. As a frame for the church, charming houses shine in their paleness and their fierce dogs lie in their doorways lest a stranger approach.

It is a German colony unto itself, with its manners and its arrangements and its institutions.

The high chimneys of the factories, those on the main street and those in the nearby entrances rise up like black giants and emit their smoke towards the blue sky. The weavers and the mechanics of all types, the vast majority of them are of their own and the minority are local residents. -

And there are also of our brothers, Jews - textile merchants, agents, and accountants and their agents, and travelers in foreign languages of all kinds. Jews, on whom the stamp of the largest cities in the country where they wander because of their trade, is engraved. Among them are the readers of “Ha-Melitz” and “Ha-Tsofeh” and “Ha-Shilo'ah,” community activists and significant lovers of Zion. Well-being and the “spirit of the times” is in their dwellings. Their riding and kindly daughters play the piano and speak Russian and German. Their sons are in universities in the country and they have good relations with the German industrialists. And there is a Midrash legend that many of the German industrialists even trained their hands to write Yiddish and in the typical Jewish style: “To my dear and honorable friend,” and “Peace be upon Israel.”

As in every city and town, the education in the city was mainly based on the “cheders” and the most famous of them at the time was that of a teacher of young children and his name was Hirsch “Calf.” Why was his name Calf? Because he was small and squat and “his belly was between his teeth.” And there is a Midrashic legend that he would butt the head of the slow students. When he would go over a lesson with the little children, a pot full of steaming potatoes stood in front of him, that he would swallow them both the insides and the skins, one by one and with extra purpose, and review and butt at the same time. This school would start with the alphabet and end with a ”little” Chumash. He would teach not only mechanical reading in the prayer book,

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but also with the Onkelos translation - and from left to right. He reached “gvurot” (=80 years old) and was still engaged in teaching. Not for nothing would they say in self-praise that all had the privilege of passing before him as “sons of Meron” (=a battalion) - from the rabbi to the bathhouse attendant. This school, a dilapidated clay house on the street of the synagogues was on the slope of a hill, so to speak, which sprouts all kinds of thorny plants and brambles and grows all kinds of disgusting things and bugs. On clear summer days, the babies of this school of their teacher would graze there, happy in front of “Moshe Rabbenu's mare,” playing various games or singing a psalm to Holy One Blessed Be He that He would water the earth thanks to the babies of their teacher's house.

From Hirsch “Calf” the child passed to the authority of the Chumash and Gemara teacher. I remember the teacher from “Kitarid” (=Kytaihorod). This person had a poetic soul, was handsome, his face covered with a short black beard and his black eyes shone with the joy of life, lover of beauty and cleanliness and order. While he taught his lesson, he would draw “playing cards” for Hanukkah in colors and give them to the students and for Shavu'ot, he would cut out paper drawings to stick on the windows. And he had a passionate imagination and would tell his students stories and fables from “Sefer Ha-Yashar” and more. The students loved this rabbi and would learn out of love. His knowledge of the Talmud was scant and he had to learn from a teacher greater than him in the Torah to prepare for his lessons.

There were also “educated” teachers. One of them was Ephraim Leonansky, a man from Yarmolyntsi, who came to our city to establish a “position” for himself and he acquired students from among the wealthy. He instructed his students in the Bible, Gemara, and grammar. He reads books of the Haskalah and requires them to write pieces in a flowery style. And anyone who abounds in flowery phrases and fragments of verses is praiseworthy. This teacher was fluent in reading novels in Yiddish. Where did he get these novels from? There was a Jewish man in our city whose name was Avraham “Bletter Id,” about whom the grandfather R. Mendele Mocher Sefarim z”l used to say that his hair was enough for a dozen Jews to have a beard and wigs and that in the fringes of his long coat, there were pomegranates, pomegranates dripping all year round. And this Avraham “Bletter Id” receives newspapers and novels and lends them to read for a small fee; Ephraim Leonansky would borrow the novels from him and read them with great desire.

The “cheder” of Shammai Weissman is worth mentioning. This teacher was an extraordinary scholar, a lover of new Hebrew literature, one of the distinct dreamers of Zion, with style and decent measurements. He had all the virtues counted for a decent teacher (many of the best Hebrews in our city were among his students, among them the great writer and educator Prof. Zvi Sharfstein and the Hebrew poet Avraham Rosenzweig, now: Rosen). In his small and clean apartment, a group of well-to-do boys, about eighteen years old, some who were grooms or intended to be grooms, studied. They studied Tanach and Talmud and Haskalah. They had to learn the words of the latter prophets and many of the Psalms by heart, as well as the poems of Adam HaCohen. Micah Joseph Lebensohn and Judah Leib Gordon. Shammai Weissmann was inclined to research and philosophy. Therefore, he used to teach them to his students as light thoughts of Gemara, Poskim, and Tshuvot, even the eight chapters of Rambam, “Moreh Nevuchim,” “Hovat Ha-Levavot,” the “Ikarim,” and even the articles of philosophy and research, which were published in the Hebrew collections. Shammai Weissman would often write articles on the questions of the time and pushed them to “Ha-Melitz,” but they never saw the light of day, except for “Torah innovations,” which he would publish from time to time in one rabbinical collection called “Ha-Pisgah.” In the drawer of his desk were accumulated many articles written on long yellow pages in small and bright letters.

During his time the “Free School” was founded, where in addition to Hebrew and Tanach

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and history, the students were also taught general knowledge. Most of the teachers were volunteers, from among the well-to-do and novices in teaching, but they try to do this job of theirs as a faith out of the holy ideal - to spread Haskalah and a love of Zion among the people. This educational institution, most of whose students were girls, made an impression at the time and caused a stir and agitation in the old city. There was a kind of innovation in it, Hebrew speech rang a little here, a little there, in the mouths of the younger generation, boys and girls from Butchers' Street, Tailors' Street, etc. There were also instigators and spreaders of bad news, of course, like the various teachers who were wary of being deprived of a livelihood, just annoyed at their own jealousy, and also jealous with the jealousy of the Lord of Hosts. The faithful supporters of this institution

Avraham Lerner and those accompanying him on his immigration to Israel

The Hebrew youth in our city! There was movement and action and agitation, from the lower classes, from the “poor,” to the affluent and the rich, who were in the new city - all were imbued with the spirit of nationalism and Zionism. General Zionists, “Tse'irei Tsiyon” and “Po'alei Tsiyon,” just enthusiasts, educated and on duty and “simple readers,” “potential writers” fighting with all the systems. and Hebrew speakers of all types. A single spirit throbbed in both parts of our city - a single devotion to all that is dear and holy to our people. And households in our city, glory to them and glory to their people, aka the Blank family (not from my family) and the Sharfsteins, the Cheifezes, and more, who provided for our country, the land of the ancestors, enough human material of top quality in all walks of life there. And there were “Beit Midrash” schools in our city for Torah and Hebrew literature and for the love of Zion. One of them was headed by M. Rosen, the author of “Letters from Russia,” which appeared in “Ha-Do'ar,” and the notebook “Privacy.” His house was a youth council house, young people from righteous and wholesome houses, sons of R. Shevach, the local rabbi, Avraham and Zusya,

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both teachers, Levi Riklis, the well-known educator and writer in the Land of Israel, Mordechai Michaeli, the educator and writer in the Land of Israel, the poet Avraham Rosenzweig-Rosen, the writer of these columns, and more. M. Rosen was the living spirit of his “Beit Midrash,” a scholar and a clear Zionist, a Jew “whose every bone would say.” He is the one who initiates the conversation and is crucial in the debates, whether about a new poem by Bialik, an article by Ahad Ha'am, a new story - everything served as material for debate. I will see them as if living - those nice boys, in their unique styles and in their stature, the young Zion dreamers, who used to come to the “Beit Midrash” of M. Rosen to taste “forbidden bread” unbeknownst to the ancestors. Most of them are sons of the Sadigura and Chortkiv Hasidim and pray in the Sadigura synagogue. The Sadigura synagogue in our city, where the best and the brightest of the two parts of our city prayed. There were the three outstanding scholars, the rabbi R. Shevach, “Yisra'el the Black,” Hirschel Hana Rozhes (my father writes these columns) are seriously arguing with the Maharsha; there were Hasidim and men of action making a public celebration with singing and dancing, with all their 248 body parts and their 365 sinews; there were the God-fearing crowning the master of the world with holy melody; there were the Toranim and the educated arguing about “Ibn Ezra.” And there was the young writer, Zvi Sharfstein, and his friend, Ya'akov Wasserman z”l, a famous Hebrew educator, the representatives of their “Beit Midrash” arguing in the hallway during the reading of the Torah with the representatives of the other “Beit Midrash” over the laws of Zionism and literature, and names such as Borochov, Sirkin, Herzl, Nordau, Bialik, Y. L. Gordon, Ahad Ha'am, Tschernichovsky, and Brenner flourish in the air.

May those Shabbats, holidays, and festivals be blessed!

The Talmud Torah in our city was neglected and the Zionists took it upon themselves to repair and improve it. So Ya'akov Fichman was brought to teach there and a new period opened in the life of the youth of our city - the Fichman period. The poet instructed not only the little ones, but also the young people who had literary ambitions. Around him congregated every young man in our city in whose heart the jealousy of writers percolated, and “potential writers” whether in poetry and in fiction or in journalism, and he, the young and lyrical poet and gracious critic, would teach them a lesson in the theory of writing, drawing a line in criticism, encouraging and strengthening soft hearts and tastes, until - until “the sparks of talents” did not rise to the flame and were naturally extinguished.

There was a Jewish man in our city, “Velvel Brieftreger” by name. Why was his name “Brieftreger”? Because he would receive the mail and distribute it to each person by name, since there was not the name of a single Jew in our city unknown to him, even a poor man in the crowd who is in a meager dwelling near the “poorhouse.” A long and thin Jew with a brown beard, taciturn and gathered into himself by the nature of his creation. He would enter the house with a weak greeting, lick the head of his thumb with his mouth, leisurely sort through the package of letters, give the owner of the house his, receive a fee of a penny or two, all according to the giver and the letter, and slip the coin into his coat pocket, kiss the mezuzah and depart with a blessing.

The home of this letter carrier was a youth welfare center in our city. Until Velvel came with the post, Ya'akov Fichman would read his poems in front of his young fans in the meantime and give his opinion on writers and literature. Fichman was early to come here, sitting and reading the newspapers “Ha-Melitz” and “Ha-Tsofeh.”

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In those days, a firemen's association was founded in our city, headed by Haim Hirsch Wissotzky, a young man full of life and initiative. Every good young man joins it, especially from the sons of Butchers' Street and Tailors' Street. And really, could we expect the kindness of the German firefighters? Are they alone, may their name be obliterated, likely to put out the frequent fires in the old city and its suburbs? Isn't the young Israel talented for this? And not only that, but they stood and built a walled house for glory, with two floors, put in there all the devices necessary for this, even huge barrels full of water, and they had leaders and clerks and exemplary discipline. Anyone who hasn't seen our firemen with the shiny copper hats on their heads and with their uniforms put out a fire hasn't seen a great spectacle in his day, by the time “the idiot” arrived at the scene of the fire, it was already after the fact. It was not for nothing that “Michal” was secretly resentful and angry because he was always “out

Firefighters

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Ahh, the firemen's house in our city! -

And please, may Ya'akov Wasserman, mentioned above, be a light matter in your eyes! After years, though, when he married a wife and fathered sons, he calmed down and he gained a reputation as an excellent Hebrew educator. He is the one who headed an educational institution in Odesa in the days of Mendele Mocher Sfarim and Bialik and Ussishkin, may their memory be blessed. However, when he was a boy, he would curl his hair and play with [unreadable word]. He was beautiful to praise and the women were captivated by him. His clothing was not according to the state custom - he wore a frock and his shoes were always shiny. He was full of youthful enthusiasm and had wonderful talents. In particular, he would amaze his listeners with his enthusiastic speeches. The hour is the hour of awakening, the clash of the various currents in Zionism, the clash of tongues, the revival of the national language and its literature, etc., and the time to do for our people, to educate the lower classes in our city. After all, what did Ya'akovke do (Ya'akov Wasserman was called such out of affection)? He founded an actors' organization (actiyorim in the language of the people) to develop “Amcha”'s taste in drama. Who were the members of the association? Obviously from among the sons of the affluent and the daughters of the rich, these thin, beautiful young women who spoke Russian and German, who wanted to come down from the heights of their dwelling places, from the new city, from near the piano among an atmosphere of well-being and lack of worry, to the old city to show the poor their beauty, their grace, and their culture. What did they perform first? “Uriel Acosta.” “Ya'akovke” played the main role - Uriel Acosta.

Ah, who will recount the impression made by that show in our city! -

May those days be blessed.

1. From “Sefer Sharfstein,” published by the “Shvilei Hinuch” committee, New York, 1944. Return

One day I happened upon Yosef Blank, a kind man and a Zionist businessman from Dunayivtsi, a town of commerce and industry in Podolia. I liked the man and that was enough for me to agree to his offer and to accept a job as a teacher in his city. It's necessary to do something! I was never very diligent. But I hated emptiness. My hometown at the beginning of the century was an empty city. My friends had scattered and there remained there only two or three weaklings who were close to literature, but left both their trade and their attempts at creation in a state of despair and they were unable to strengthen the hands of the novice “that he succeed.” It was a kind of warning to me: don't freeze here in the emptiness. And perhaps unwittingly, I had a purpose to make Dunayivtsi, which paid well, a shortcut to Warsaw.

I left Blazowa immediately after Passover. I remember, sitting on the train, comparing what was in front of me to the Podolia town where I had to read the Torah, I heard the conversation of a priest who told the passengers - most of them from the village - with frank joy about the massacre of the Jews of Kishinev (=Chisinau). It was from his mouth that I first learned about the horrifying event and from the joy of the wretched priest at the calamity, I was first exposed to Russian hooliganism in all its ugliness.

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- That's fitting for them! The Christian shepherd with the big cross on his chest finished and none of the listeners became aroused by the defamatory words.

This conversation shocked me. I was unsophisticated and the poets of Russia and its tellers had instilled in me a love for the Russian villagers and the Russian people in general, and here I saw them eye to eye, among whom I sit! I breathed a sigh of relief when I left this stupid company and sat in the cart, which took me through Kamyanets Podilskyy to my desired district; and perhaps then the thought had already taken root in me that not only Dunayivtsi, but rather all of Russia is nothing but a corridor to my future life.

We lingered for a little while in Kamyanets Podilskyy. And it was strange the peace that was over this city of beautiful gardens, which apparently did not yet know about the disaster. There the wounded still quivered and every alleyway was filled with anxiety and here, “the sun shone and the plants flourished”… Indeed, I was surprised by the delight of the city, which lies alone far from the King's Road, surrounded by green meadows and wild fields. And remembering that Mendele once stayed here, Gotlober stayed, I felt as if their spirits still floated over the quiet, clean streets, and I prayed that Dunayivtsi would please me no less than this city, which I have not returned to see since.

Yosef Blank with his family in Israel in 1914

Dunayivtsi was a short stop on the road of my wanderings. But I remembered it all my days as a good stop. The town, when we do not dwell in it for a long time, is a blessing to its inhabitants. Here you acquire friends. Here you get to know the Jewish way of life up close. And it is possible that, in this city, I understood Jewish existence more than I understood it in the city

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in which I was born. And indeed, it was a very typical Jewish town. It had faces that stood out and I remember some of them, as if I had left them yesterday. Here there was something turbulent, boiling, and those who do not remember what Dunayivtsi was like in the days of the Uganda controversy do not know what fanaticism for Herzl, for the Zionist Federation (there was a strong group of “Federation defenders” here) is. It gave the same signs as Podolia Hasidism, which believed in the rabbi as an angel of God; and the reincarnation of such a “rabbi” was Herzl to the people of Dunayivtsi. It was forbidden to insult him!

Here I insisted on it, what Herzl was to the masses of Israel whose soul was consumed by a man of miracles, by a redeemer. Since I had already published several poems in “Ha-Dor,” the young men of the town approached me, with whom I would walk and talk and dream in the reddish fields at sunset on the way up to Yarmolyntsi. Of them, I remember Zvi Sharfstein the most, who was then a soft-spoken man with beautiful eyes and who already showed productive literary talent. His articles in “Ha-Melitz” under the name of Even Hadah were published with amazing frequency. There was not, as it were, a subject that did not need him and his style was clear; and it was like a wonder in my eyes that a boy, a town boy, had such quick perception. All the paths of literature, all the problems of the time, were understood by him while I was still entirely immersed in the little poems. We have been friends since then for the rest of our lives; and he is also the one who published the first assessment of my poetry in “Ha-Yarden” and it is written with affection and understanding - and there are few critics among us to this day who understand poetry. And how good it is for a person who has dealt with education problems all his life (and also wrote an important book on the history of education) that his heart is open to poetry, which is the most reliable key to understanding the child's soul.

A few more spirited young people approached me who brightened up my monotonous life in my short time in this town. Among them I will also mention the witty Ya'akov Wasserman, a significant pedagogue and active Zionist businessman; and one of the Blank family, a pure-hearted young man, who would stand and wait near my residence for my departure almost every evening to accompany me for a short time on a walk before bed. There are very few people, whose souls were connected to mine like he was. And he perished in the spring of his life (in the October riots that took place in Proskorov (= Khmelnytskyi) in 1905). To this day my heart will rejoice at his memory.

Many years have passed since I left our home in Dunayivtsi. For one, success shone brightly and he climbed the social and economic ladder, and for the other, we were called by twists of fate...many of us visited big cities, others live in New York, the largest of the metropolitan cities of the world, and the life of wealth and pleasures even intoxicated them, nevertheless, the memory of our old home lives in the hearts of all of us. We cannot forget our quiet and humble city of Dunayivtsi. About twelve thousand Jews, laborers, before the Holocaust, filled the streets of the city. All weekdays, the streets were full of noise and tumult, merchants, shopkeepers, and craftsmen. If a stranger would happen to be there

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on such a day, he got the impression that, apart from livelihood issues and livelihood concerns, the Jews of the town have nothing in their world and only the war for existence concerns them all the time. However, this impression was completely wrong. Although they were very busy and embodied the verse, "By the sweat of your brow, you shall eat bread,” some less and some more, each according to his luck, but in all of them beat a warm Hebrew heart and one spirit surrounded them, a spirit of Torah and good deeds - each according to his achievement. And just as they gave their minds to commerce and work, so they gave their hearts to dreaming and creating spiritual values. The people had dreams and their ambition was always to educate their children in the Torah and wisdom. Immersed all their days in their small shops, they were always longing for another world, beautiful and sublime, for the resurrection of their people in the land of their ancestors, to the revival of the Hebrew language. When Beryl Sharfstein's store was filled with all types, bursting with endless buyers, Zvi, the son, would sit in a hidden corner or in a special room and weave threads for the enrichment of the new Hebrew education. And when my grandfather's shop was full of merchants and bills, my father, Mordechai Rosin (may he rest in peace), wrote articles for “Ha-Shilo'ah,” “Ha-Zman,” and “Ha-Tsfira.” Avraham Rosenzweig (A. Rosen) found in Dunayivtsi treasures of poetry and over time earned himself a reputation as an important Hebrew poet in the Land of Israel. And the small, dark house on the street of the butcher shops gave us the well-known Hebrew writer, S. L. Blank. If a person thought that Dunayivtsi did not have a favorable atmosphere for talents in the field of art and painting, he would be wrong. Dunayivtsi gave us the gifted painter, Branzi Blank, and the important sculptor, Deutschman, the daughter of Shalom ben Aharon Ha-“Adom” and the sister of our active businessman, Yitzhak Deutschman. An artist or a poet was given the opportunity to receive inspiration in Dunayivtsi. The city excelled in its beautiful girls who were blessed with Jewish grace and human radiance.

Our town was divided into two parts: the old city and the new city, and into different classes with special streets: the synagogue street, the mill street, the butchers' street, the tailors' street, etc. were found in a part of the old city, which differed from the new city both in terms of its appearance and in terms of the composition of the residents. In the old part of our city, a spirit of true democracy prevailed and all the residents of this part saw each other as brothers and sisters, members of one big family, and a feeling of brotherhood and devotion filled all hearts. Whereas in the new part, where the wealthy homeowners lived, it had a completely different character.

The family feeling was missing there. These were dear Jews, but - a bit cold and disapproving, and sometimes they didn't even allow their children to play with the children of the old city… nevertheless, despite these spots of pride and arrogance that were seen here and there, our town in general, both the old city and the new city, shone with the traditional Jewish life that was our pride.

Here standing in front of my eyes are the precious streets and alleys of our unforgettable town of Dunayivtsi: the commercial lot (Targavitse), the market with the stores, the huts, the street of the butcher shops, the synagogue street, the enclave of the Zinkov Hasidim, the Beit Midrash, that throughout the hours of the day they did not cease reading and prayer - one “minyan” ends and the other begins. I see in my mind's eye the great synagogue and feel still today the terror that struck the child's heart when we, who are now here, used to pass there in the silence of the night and whisper a secret to each other about the dead standing there, inside, wrapped in tallits and praying...

and image chases after image.

Here I enter the enclave of the Sedigura Hasidim and see in front of me an image shrouded in holiness and awe in the precious and beautiful figure of R. Yisraelikel R. Arkis. The owner of the eyes that produce wisdom and the kind smile that flows

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on the face of his white beard. I see him wrapped in his large tallit that covers his shiny silk kapoteh with its multitude of colors as he walks between a “column” and the Holy Ark, praying with devotion and repeating each word 5-6 times, and with burning looks of love, respect, and reverence accompanying him.

And here is the market, the center of small and large shops, the huts, the tinsmiths, Nachman Cantor's store. Itzi Freezman's store full of ready-made clothes for the “goyim,” Sevi's grocery and kerosene store, Simcha Yossel Meirchis's hardware store, Beryl Sharfstein's department store where you could find: needles, hats, violins, hammers, saws and also prayer books, Chumashim, and so on. And here is the small shop of Feivel's wife, where we bought a piece of salted fish for one kopeck.

A special place in the life of our town was occupied by the house of Hana Leibeles on the street of the butcher shops, a place where we, the little ones, could have excellent meals: for one kopeck you could buy a piece of liver, half a roasted chicken leg, and the merchants in the town, who had the means, went there by “stealth” and with care to get a delicious meal, fresh bread rolls, stuffed fish, roasted livers, etc., as the owner of the “restaurant” greets them: “Bon Appetit!”

And here I see in front of my eyes the tailor, Yehuda'leh, from Frompil, a squat and cheerful Jew whose mouth did not stop singing and joking. On summer days, the doors and windows in his house would be opened and the sounds of the workers singing, accompanied by the calling of the numbers, would emanate from them. And here walks and enters the market the tall, angry Yankel, the bathhouse attendant. And in his hand is a basket full of fresh loaves of bread with the smell of cumin wafting from them. Standing before my eyes are the few taverns of Jews, and I see the “goyim” when they leave their “cloister” (church) on their holidays and go straight into the taverns and leave their money there and go out drunk again and call for calamities…

And the wonderful winter nights of Dunayivtsi! We, the students, return home from the “Cheder,” lanterns in our hands and song in our mouths.

My ears are still ringing with the voices of songs that emanate, on hot summer days, from the open windows of the houses of teachers Izikel, Eli Ya'akov, Yitzhak Meir Hirsch and others.

“The Master Race” brought destruction upon it. But the Jew comes back to life and builds the State of Israel.

1. From the book, “Dunayivtsi, The City of My Birth,” by Zvi Sharfstein, published by the Aid Society of Bnei Dunayivtsi (Podolia) in America. Return

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In countries and cities through which I passed on my long wanderings over many years, they asked me: Where are you from? I would answer: I was born in Dunayivtsi, where the mothers used to tell their children on cold winter nights, lying in a clean bed and covered with a warm blanket, that there are poor children in the city freezing cold and hungry. In my city, it was customary to give old clothes and shoes to the poor and they would mend a torn shirt before it was given to them. This is how they used to invite a guest to the Shabbat meal and to set aside bread and challahs from the bakery for the poor. The townspeople were used to looking down and not up, and jealousy was forbidden. When one of the “lords” married off a son or daughter, he would make a feast for the poor. Otherwise, the joy would not be complete. A poor woman giving birth would be given a sheet, a chicken, a cup of jam, and the like. When a poor daughter of Israel entered puberty, they would collect donations for her dowry and wedding expenses. And mothers used to tell us that, with the coming of the Messiah, all the holidays will be cancelled except Purim because Purim is the only holiday dedicated to charity and sending food to the poor. Everyone felt that it was their duty to help others in their time of need.

I remember that my aunt, Riva, for whom giving charity was a major part of her life, was once offended because her husband, as they sat at a meal, prevented her from giving a whole gold coin to a poor man. She got up from the table angrily, went into the kitchen, and said: If I am not allowed to give charity with a full hand, why should I sit around the table with the master of the house?

All her days, the Shamash and Gabbai Blimele would go around seeking “donations” and, in a basket under her bath, she would collect “hidden things” for the poor: fat, sugar, jam, underwear, and clothes. While walking, she would knit socks with her short, crooked fingers.

Pasia bat Chaim Avraham assigned herself a unique mission: “giving in secret.” She would wear a silk scarf on her head and, in half-holiday clothing, she would visit her “Hasidot” and whisper to them the word of her coming and, after receiving what she received, she would kiss the mezuzah and leave satisfied.

It also happened that the owners of “houses” would wear the Shabbat “kapotehs” on weekdays and collect donations for the benefit of “one who was burned out” or who had become impoverished. The teachers would also teach the children of poverty for free. Not only the needs of the body were taken care of in our city. Many of the teachers devoted time to spreading Torah and education among the children of the poor by giving free lessons. I believe that there is no need to remind us, the children of these noble ones who brought us up in this spirit, of the terrible disaster of our people, of the destruction of our relatives that is unparalleled in the annals of mankind. In this country, there are many mothers who do not allow themselves to hug their children because of the bereaved parents who lost their children in the Holocaust.

In our city, which lies 50 kilometers from the Austrian border, according to the laws of the Tsarist government, only Jews born in this area were allowed to live. Jews who were born outside the “Pale” and tried to settle there were punished and deported. Thanks to its special geographical situation - Dunayivtsi occupied an important place in trade and industry.

At the beginning of the 19th century, a group of German immigrants from Austria and Germany settled in this town.

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These immigrants were poor and wretched when they arrived. They arrived in the town in carts drawn by dogs, but they brought weaving machines with them. Over the course of time, these weaving machines became 35 textile factories (fabric and cotton) and 2 steel smelting factories. Thanks to this industrial development, Jews began to flow from near and far places beyond the Pale. The Tsarist police persecuted these Jews, lacking residence permission, and many of them were likely to be deported from the city. A struggle began between the Jews and the police, and in this struggle, Mr. Yonah Bokser was active. As a private lawyer, he fought against threats of deportation. The struggle was long and difficult, and only after many years did they manage to remove Dunayivtsi from the framework of the laws of the Pale and the trials against the Jews were eliminated.

In actions of this kind, Yonah Bokser endangered his position in the city. The danger of deportation and imprisonment threatened

Firefighters next to fire trucks

Permission to enter the public garden of the Germans, which surrounded their fire station, was given to all residents of the city, except for the Jews. And only when various celebrations were held in this garden - were the Jews also allowed to buy tickets for entry. The German fire brigade was required to help all residents of the city in the event of a fire. For these services, they received a certain amount of money from the district city of “Nova-Ushytsya.” And the Jewish community also contributed from its budget to the German fire brigade.

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latter would fabricate different types of revenue, including arson attempts. For this purpose, they would choose a house of an affluent Jew, attach the ladders to it, climb on the roof and, with hammers, they would destroy the wooden shingles and splash jets of water on the walls and cause great damage to the house. To get out of these “experiences” - the owners of the houses would “donate” for the benefit of the firefighters. However, when a real fire broke out in a Jewish house in the Jewish quarter - they did not rush to come and put out the fire. And here it once happened that a fire broke out in a quarter where the Jews lived densely. The firefighters arrived very late and more than 20 houses went up in flames. Many families were left homeless. This disaster provoked the Jewish public figures to take measures. Through the initiative of the businessmen Yonah Bokser, Eli Rubinstein, Yosef Blank and others, a Jewish fire brigade company was established in the city. The Jewish youth and many other respected Jews participated in this society

Chief of the Fire Brigade

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the governor to take deterrent measures by force against the violators, participated in this delegation. However, the governor did not want to accept the delegation and they returned home with a few vague promises from the secretary of the region. It was decided to rely solely on their own forces, that is: on the organized youth within the framework of the fire department. The opportunity for a clash was not long in coming. One bright Sunday, when the market was full of peasants from the area, the people of the “Black Hundred” incited the peasants who began to destroy the shacks of the Jewish shops and destroy the goods.

The firefighters in uniform, with copper hats - equipped with all kinds of devices, appeared at the place where the pogrom started. The rioters were frightened and began to retreat and run away, and the town was saved. This lesson saved Dunayivtsi from riots many years later during the Petliura period. But this rescue came at a rather high price. The “Black Hundred” did not sit idly by. They misrepresented the events in the market on the aforementioned Sunday and, in a distorted and exaggerated form, submitted a memorandum to the governor of the region who ordered the liquidation of the Jewish fire brigade company. The German colony helped the “Black Hundred” both openly and secretly. A few of the leaders of the company such as Dr. Marmur did not stay long in prison. An appeal was filed with the court against the governor's order of elimination, and in addition to the local lawyer, Yonah Bokser, the Zionist prosecutor, Schleifer, from Kamyanets Podilskyy, and the famous lawyer, A. Gruzenberg from Sankt-Peterburg appeared in court. The trial lasted about two years and in the end, the fire brigade company was re-established. It should be noted that the initiators of the fire brigade company along with other businessmen also helped to establish a loan and savings bank, the first of its kind in the area.

The main initiators were: Israel Rabinowitz, Chaim Meir Rosenblatt, Chaim Schneider, Yonah Bokser, Yosef Blank, Aaron Perlmutter, and others.

The purpose of the fund was to create cheap credit for artisans and small traders. The credit was limited to 300 rubles, given with weekly and monthly payments. This institution somewhat raised the economic situation of the lower classes and the poor of means and enjoyed much support from the population. The Jews of the city also brought their savings to the fund. This institution existed until the end of 1914, when the First World War broke out.

After the disturbances of Petliura in 1919 and after the regime changed several times, the Bolsheviks captured our city on Monday, Kislev 5, TRP”A (15 October 1920). The occupying army lacked everything and as soon as they entered the city, they began “to take” from the residents everything that came into their hands; life in the city was completely silent, the shopkeepers did not open their shops and the villagers did not bring their wares for sale - the rumors of the confiscations and the “takings” by the soldiers reached them, too - the city dwellers achieved with great efforts the minimum necessities of life. The connection between cities was cut off; the mail, the telephone, and the telegraph did not work; newspapers did not arrive and the few who wanted to travel from place to place could indeed do so because

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the roads remained open for a while, but for that they had to rent a special vehicle. Thus, some residents were given the opportunity to leave the city, and Russia in general, thanks to the fact that the Polish border - which was about fifty kilometers from our city - could be crossed without many difficulties. Many of our citizens crossed the border into Galicia and from there dispersed to all parts of the world; a large part of them also immigrated to Israel. A few months later, the border was completely closed and intercity traffic was also restricted, and even to travel to Kamyanets, which is close to Dunayivtsi, a special license was needed. With the closure of the roads also began the period of the searches. The Bolsheviks looked for anything and everything under the pretext of looking for weapons, but they took everything that was close at hand, especially clocks. After a few months the tune changed - not weapons, but goods. The citizens did hide everything, but the soldiers nevertheless discovered the goods with their meticulous searches that were carried out every night and every day in a different place. The goods that were found were confiscated and their owner was arrested and brought before a military tribunal and, more than once, given a death sentence, which was usually carried out without mercy and with excessive haste. This period was called the period of war communism.

After the confiscation of the goods came the period which was called the period of “surpluses.” It was terrible. During the day they asked let it be evening and at night they prayed for morning. The curfew and the searches were nerve-racking. In fact, all classes of the people suffered, but it was most difficult for the rich because they lived in constant fear of search, of confiscation, of imprisonment, and of death. It was clear to everyone that the goal of the regime was to eliminate them and remove them from the world. The middle class suffered from confiscations and lack of livelihood; the craftsmen - from lack of work; and the poor always suffer. When they got up in the morning, they immediately heard the night news, even without the help of a newspaper and radio, as if an intelligence bureau immediately spread the rumors and news about confiscation and imprisonment.

The only way they got the food they needed was through barter. The world returned to the primitive method of barter. For the most part, the women and children would go - and of course on foot - to the nearby villages and bring the villagers what they lacked and, in return, receive food. About two years passed like this.

In October 1922, the “N.A.P.,” the initials of “A New Economic Policy,” was announced, and it symbolized a period of light in the government of darkness. Freedom of trade was restored to a certain extent and the situation improved. Commerce and industry began to develop, everyone returned to their profession, and everyone earned a living. Some of the townspeople, a very small part, also became rich. But this enrichment was their destruction. Had it not been for the N.A.P., a large part of them would have immigrated to Israel because most of them were Zionists. I always thought that the N.A.P. was - from this point of view - a great disaster for the Jews of Russia.

At the end of 1926, they began “to smell” that the N.A.P. was approaching its end and its days were numbered, and truly, in 1927 the lid was closed on this period. The method used to eliminate the remains of the N.A.P. were: the imposition of such a large income tax, which was inevitably followed by the confiscation of the merchants' property. On the first of January 1928, there was no private business again. The remnants managed in several factories that were organized in the form of cooperatives. In the days of the N.A.P., the factory owners equipped their factories with modern machinery and prepared a large inventory of raw material so that there was something to confiscate. At the time of the confiscation, the owners were jailed and exiled to Siberia for periods of three to five years. The one who was able to overcome the back-breaking work and the difficult conditions and finally returned - the law called the “minus law” applied to him, according to which he was called “a former prisoner” for a period of time

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equal to the time he had spent in Siberia. The following restrictions applied to him: he was not allowed to return to his place of residence before the expulsion; he was not allowed to live within one hundred kilometers of the cities of Moscow, Leningrad, Kharkiv, and Kyiv; he was not allowed to live within a radius of one hundred kilometers from an industrial center, as well as from a border point. As a result of these instructions, the fate of our townspeople who returned from expulsion was very difficult. Even though Russia is big and wide, it was almost impossible to find a place where it was allowed to get established and to start all over again. While the head of the family suffered in his exile, the rest of the family lived in very difficult conditions in the city itself. The houses they lived in were taken over by a government office whose job it was to monitor the property. Such a family lived in a shabby room in a remote corner of the city and waited for the release of the father or the husband; and when he returned, if he returned, they took the wandering stick with them and went to look for a new place.

At the time of the N.A.P. the situation was quite good, and when those who are profiting want to enjoy life, this sometimes results in ignoring the past, not considering the present or what may come in the future. Such people bought jewelry, fur coats, silverware; everything that was buried in the ground rose as if resurrected.

On December 31, 1928, they organized a “legal” robbery throughout the length and breadth of Russia and that night was called the “Golden Night.” The government emissaries went from house to house and confiscated jewelry, silverware, furs, and the like. They even removed rings from the women's hands and earrings from their ears and took with them anything worth money. The “Golden Night” was actually the drastic end of the N.A.P. period.

At the beginning of 1929, a new period began in which people tried to get by in government work, sometimes out of desire and sometimes out of necessity. This period can be called a period of transition from trade to crafts and clerical work. Anyone who was a merchant or suspected of being a merchant or a factory owner was denied the right to vote. People who were disenfranchised were not accepted into any enterprise or state office. One could only get a job through the labor bureau; the bureau did not register a disenfranchised person on the list of job seekers. And the right to vote was received only after three years of work in a factory. Now go and find the beginning and the end of this vicious cycle and learn how to switch from a merchant to a worker…During this period, the concern for finding a job was not only because of the need for a living, but mainly for the sake of receiving the certificate, otherwise known as the internship certificate, that granted the desired right of voting.

When the season for gathering the harvest and its transfer to the government approached, they needed many workers that the bureau could not provide because this was the first year that the entire harvest was transferred to the government. They opened grain delivery stations and began to also get clerks not through the bureau. The work went on in a flash. They worked day and night. After the grain came the season of potatoes, and then the season of beets, which were transferred to factories for sugar. At the end of 1929, many of our people had in their pockets a certificate of six months of work. Throughout the year they kept all kinds of lists and statistics - they worked a month here and a month there and thus they attached certificate to certificate and the number of internship months kept increasing and everyone hoped to be able to pass the necessary minimum number of months. The pace of work was so intense that private life was forgotten entirely and family life was disrupted by the hard work. My husband, for example, worked at the Dunayivtsi train station and it had been weeks since I heard anything from him. Once I was somehow free and I went to visit him at night and here I found him late at night working and with a long beard. I was very scared because

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I thought he was in prison, but he told me quietly that they just worked day and night without a break and there was no time to shave. At such a pace and in such a way of life, the people worked for about two or three years until they got the right to vote and managed more or less to become government clerks and, in the course of time, they were also accepted into the association.

I was reminded of a story that in itself is quite sad, but that clearly shows the eagerness after getting a government job. In the winter of 1932-33, the Russian government made a commercial deal with Germany and, among other goods, also sold feathers. My husband then worked as a clerk in the export department. Once, coming back from work, he told me that he had invited all the butchers of our city to our house that evening. They all came and my husband told them that they could be accepted as government clerks under certain conditions: a poultry slaughterhouse would be opened for them which, until then, had not officially existed; the slaughterhouse would be equipped with the best modern devices; the money they would receive for slaughtering the birds would belong to them and the government would buy the feathers from them and pay them in addition a symbolic salary. In exchange for this, the slaughterers must announce publicly and officially (by means of an advertisement in the newspaper) that they give up filling any role in religious life, that is - they will cease to pass in front of the ark, to serve as circumcisers and as gabbais in the synagogue, which then still existed and continued to exist until 1936, and will not arrange a canopy and wedding. The decision was very difficult for these respected Jews. On the one hand, they were out of work and deprived of any means of livelihood and, on the other hand, this work would have helped them in their financial distress. It is not easy for such people to give up their position in religious life and it was particularly difficult to give up circumcision. They asked for a 24-hour stay to give their answer. The next day they came back and their answer was positive. I sat down and wrote the declarations for them and they signed them. I often remember the look on the faces of these five Jews when they took the pen from me to sign.

But despite the solemn declaration, none of them refused when they were called to fulfill the commandment of bringing a child into the covenant of our father Abraham. In most cases, the circumcision took place in the presence of the grandmother and the mother without the father.

The grandmother allegedly stole the baby without the parents' knowledge and, in the event that this was discovered, she bore the responsibility for the matter; the baby's parents also handed the grandmother over for trial for the crime of stealing the child. The boy's father never participated in the ceremony - for fear of being kicked out of the party.

Except for the slaughter of chickens, there was no other slaughtering work because they did not allow the slaughter of animals that were not sick or infected and these latter would be killed.

In the conditions listed above of arduous work accompanied by constant fear, the people lived to between the ages of 25 and 45. Young people below this age would study and become competent in professions. There was an elementary school where studying was compulsory. When the children finished elementary school, the government made sure to teach them a trade. The talented among the children of the workers moved to a vocational high school. Next to every factory there was a school where they studied for 4 hours and worked for 4 hours. At graduation from a school like this, the boys were about eighteen years old. A high school graduate could, if he was the son of someone who had the right to vote, enter the university. In contrast, it was not possible to attend a high school for the children of the disenfranchised, even for the most talented. Such boys went to work in the mines because after a year of such work they were given the right to vote. The girls left the city and engaged in all kinds of jobs, even the most difficult. Regarding such young people there was a “Numerus Clausus,”

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even after they had already obtained the right to vote because the children of the party members were accepted first, followed by the children of the kolkhoz, and only then did their turn come. Even after they started studying, their situation was difficult and only if the parents could help their son with a few rubles a month could he finish his studies under humane conditions without being affected by any disease; but if not, then the son usually brought with him, in addition to the diploma, also tuberculosis. The son of one of the teachers, for example, did not receive any help from his father and he did graduate as a doctor, but after a short time he died of tuberculosis that he brought with him from his studies.

Perhaps I should tell about one of the election “promotions” that I also had the honor of taking part in. In the winter of 32-33, they announced the holding of elections. They organized the elections in such a way that each trade union chose separately and on a different date. On the day that the factory where I worked got the right to vote, we were informed at the break at ten (immediately after the siren of the start of the break) that we had to get dressed and go down to the “parade” ground. When I got there I found that all the workers were arranged and, together with them, the orchestra. We arranged ourselves as an army during drilling exercises because we were all arranged in foursomes. We were a crowd of over a thousand people there. The orchestra began to play and the procession moved from its position in an organized march. Although none of us knew the purpose of our march and where we were headed, no one dared to ask anything. That's how we got to the theater (it was in the Germans' municipal garden). After we were all seated, the curtain above the stage, on which sat five leaders, opened. One of them stood up and addressed us with these words: Friends, I want to explain to you the purpose for which we have gathered here today. Continuing on, he explained to us that we were about to elect the democratic government of the Russian people. He took out a piece of paper from his pocket and read from it the names of people and explained to us that the party committee had checked these people and found them worthy of being elected and that we could trust the party committee… Then he said: Let those who oppose the election of these people raise their hands. Of course, no one raised their hand…The speaker waited a moment and announced in a festive voice that there was no objection and the candidates were unanimously elected. He commanded the orchestra and we had to arrange ourselves. The orchestra started playing marches again and we marched in foursomes back to work despite the frost and deep snow outside. Many of us understood then for the first time the “exact meaning” of the word democracy. I was not the only one to hide the tears of shame and humiliation we felt because we were seen as a flock of sheep subject to the shepherd's staff.

The situation of the people aged between sixty and seventy was extremely difficult. Some of them were supported by the children and some made a living by selling their belongings, but almost all of them lived in poverty and waited for death... Those who were in the early sixties were legally entitled to get a job, but their chances of getting it were extremely slim. The few who had enough physical strength worked as night guards in government warehouses. Those who did not work were, as I said above, deprived of the right to vote and this law was also true for the elderly and those deprived of the right to vote could not continue to live in their apartments, which in the meantime had become government property. This was a period of continuous eviction orders.

Most of our people between the ages of 45 and 60 also made a living by selling things. The years passed and the household items were used up. Only a few of the people of this age succeeded to manage.

The Sabbath, or rather the desecration of the Sabbath, was a very painful problem. When there was a purge in the government apparatus, Jews were removed from their jobs because they refused to work on Saturdays and holidays and then they lived in want. ,

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It is deeply engraved in my memory of how, on many mornings on my way to work, I would meet a Jew with his tallith under his armpit and this was a sign to me that that day was Shabbat or a holiday and we would look at each other and be both ashamed, although for different reasons: I was ashamed that he was going to pray while I was going to work and he was ashamed that he did not earn his bread. There was someone who said that it is better for him to die of hunger than to work on Shabbat. And once I heard a Jew say to his friend: “It's good that your wife can work, but what will I do if my partner is sick?” Neither of them had children. The first wife's work was extremely lucrative. As we know, all the holidays of all religions were canceled and two holidays were established a year and they are: “Revolution Day” celebrated on November 7th and 8th and “International Workers' Day” celebrated on the first of May. At that time, there was no weekly day of rest except according to the calendar, that is, the days of rest were the days: 6, 12, 18, 24, and 30 of each month. The aforementioned holidays were celebrated for three days each time. November 6 is a day of rest and the seventh and eighth were the days of the holiday. In order for the people to feel the holiday, they would allocate fairly large sums to each factory to hold banquets and distribute refreshments to the workers and their families. The aforementioned woman was the “chief mother-in-law” in these celebrations and the “Tsav Fareven Di Smaches” (meaning: to be the cook) fell upon her, she also had satisfaction when they told

Volunteer nurses from among the daughters of the city during the World War

In the winter of 1932-33, the economic situation was terrible. The cold was very strong and it was difficult to get food and heating material. We all suffered. On the eve of Passover the “Torgsin” opened and the situation improved somewhat. “Torgsin” - these are government stores that sell for dollars and gold and it was possible

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to get there usually things that had not been seen on the market until then. We started receiving checks from abroad. The atmosphere changed with the opening of these stores because, while in 1928-29 those found with gold or dollars were deported to Siberia without trial, suddenly on one fine day, when the “Torgsin” shops opened, everything became kosher. Those who still had foreign currency deep in the ground took it out and exchanged it for necessities.

In our city there were three schools in the three official languages at that time: Ukrainian,
Polish, and Yiddish. We sent our sons to the Ukrainian because in it they hardly mentioned religion, neither good nor bad, while in the Yiddish schools, they did everything to remove religion from the children's hearts. They did many things to cause anger, such as on the night of the “Seder,” they arranged a special celebration where they let the children eat bread, of course, or on the night of Yom Kippur, instead of “Kol Nidre,” they held a feast and banquet for the children. On Yom Kippur itself we had to go to work and the child went to school. But in the Ukrainian no one cared if the child didn't eat, in contrast to that in the Yiddish, they checked all the children to see if they had brought food and the child whose backpack was found without food, his fate was to be sent home to bring food (on other days they didn't care if the children were not eating…).

After the N.A.P. was over, it was clear that the merchants had money left over. As I already mentioned, the end was very drastic and they confiscated the property of a large part of the merchants, and even the household furniture, against the excessive debts to the income tax.

The things they confiscated were valued at such a cheap price that it almost never covered the amount of the tax they set and, in addition to the fact that they were left with no property, there was another debt registered against their account. They did not waive this debt, God forbid, but started doing trials in which they handed out years of imprisonment generously. There was no prison in Dunayivtsi, so they sent everyone to Kamyanets. Those of the prisoners who were able to work, and who worked to the satisfaction of the authorities, were released from prison after two-thirds of the time. The prisons had all kinds of workshops and the people worked as hard as they could to enjoy an early release.

Despite all the high taxes, there were still a few people everywhere who paid all the payments and still had money left over with which they bought dollars and gold and hid them in the ground. It goes without saying that everything was known to our brothers the Jews who worked in the service of the G.P.O. And one fine day they started inviting people to G.P.O. and demanded that they hand over the foreign currency and gold in their possession because the country was in dire straits and needed these means of payment to buy essential commodities abroad. Later they talked to the heart of the people, that it is better for the state to use it than for it to lie in the ground. These beautiful explanations only found a listening ear among a few professors in Kyiv, but not among “Amcha”... In the small towns, the “explanation” was less intelligent and more “convincing” because they came suddenly at night, arrested the people, and started “to explain” to them. The people were put in a prison and tortured with unbelievable torture. The torture was according to a scientific method... First of all, the housing was “ideal” because they put over a hundred people in a cell with the capacity of 20. Of course, the crowding was so great that the people remained standing the whole time until they started falling over each other. The cell door was opened only once a day and the people did their business in the cell. Behind the door, they put up machines that made noise throughout the day and night. Some of the “prisoners” went mad, literally, others weakened to death, and some died. In the end, everyone handed over their money, the question was only

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after how much time. There were those who did not last more than a day and there were also those who kept their secret for up to six weeks; no one lasted more than that. When the interrogator was Jewish, the matter became even more complicated because the Jews used various tricks, such as: during the interrogation of the prisoner, they asked him details about all the family members, even from previous generations. After they already knew the details, the investigator went to the prisoner's wife and told her that her husband told her to hand over all the money and, as a sign, the investigator gave the prisoner's wife the date of the death, the names of the family members, etc.

In thirty-three, there was a famine and people fell dead in the streets. The cause of the famine was not, God forbid, a bad harvest, but politics. Apparently, they sent all the grains for export. At that time, things that only a short time before could still be obtained were not attainable, even in “Torgsin” (I only sometimes received for me and for the two children a kilo and 100 grams of bread per day). We were forced to take out of the house the silverware and rings that were still left after the “Golden Night” and, in exchange for them, we bought in “Torgsin” the food we could get. With my own eyes, I saw women coming to the dentist for her to remove the gold teeth she had once put in to buy a little food.

One of those days I happened to enter the house of one of the townspeople during dinner and saw that they were eating soup with wooden spoons. Of course I looked. So the man turned to me and said: Are you looking? Our soup spoons have been in “Torgsin” for a long time, I wish I had more. The poor people had not had silver and gold implements forever so that they could not even enjoy the relief in “Torgsin” and, in truth, most of the victims of the famine came from this part of the people.

We left Dunayivtsi on October 27, 1935. The last few days before our trip were full of excitement. The news about our immigration to Israel took flight and within a few hours spread to all corners of the city. An unceasing stream of people started flocking to our house to say goodbye to us and to send regards through us to their relatives in Israel. We willingly accepted all these missions, we hoped to be messengers of good deeds.

I was burned with my brothers in the furnaces of death, My ashes fertilized fields the hands of injustice had sowed, But a tombstone, my shadow was erected in full dignity Over the grave of the anonymous martyrs of blessed memory. The wind will caress the two eyes of the tombstone, Until from afar the black pupils lit up: Pe Nun (=here lies), The two arms, carved by the hands of the sledgehammer craftsman, Will hold on to what is written as a father holds a beloved son. But no one will be able to decipher the heart of the tombstone: Who is the martyr who died without a name and an age? Day by day the sun will polish the closure of my shadow And it never revealed: when, who, and where.

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An eternal memorial to the martyrs of our city, Dunayivtsi

“And it will be with the treading of their feet in this place, you shall remember the souls of the martyrs who were killed in strange and cruel deaths for the sanctification of God's name, and you will say: May their souls be bound up in the bundle of life. Amen.”

(Copied from the text on the back of this photograph, which was sent by a native of our city, Meir Pecherskiy.)

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