[Pages 55-73]
Old Images
By Yaakov Alpert
Translated by Eilat Gordin Levitan
Edited by his grandson, Dr. Howard G. Mendel
As if a little Jewish island surrounded by everglade forest and picturesque
villages, sat the sleepy shtetl Kurenitz. What was the origin of the name and
when was the settlement founded were not concern of the inhabitant. Only the
faded Hebrew letters on the graves in the old Jewish cemetery bore testimony of
the many generations of Jews who lived and died here. The town circumference
was small. In the middle sat the circular town center that contained the
market. That was where the town's curvy streets all banded together. In the
heart of the market, there was a large square, wood building that contained the
stores. Most of the Jewish population's income was derived from the stores. The
storeowners would primarily sell to the Christian villagers from the
surrounding villages. There was also a factory there that made soda that was
funded by my father, may his memory be blessed. It did not contain electric
appliances. It didn't have modern plumbing. The soda was made in a very
primitive way, the water was brought in pales by Herschel, the well man. The
wheel was turned by hand and that was the manner they produced the needed gas.
Life was tough, a mixture of lights and shadows. Only a few families were well
off, the rest lived in poverty. The main food source was vegetables, potatoes,
salty fish and dark bread. Meat was eaten on Sabbath and holidays. The center
of our life when I was a small boy was the Jewish religion. The religious
centers were the four synagogues; the Minyan of the Rabbi, the old Shteible,
the central synagogue and Biet Hamidrash that belong to the Mitnagdim.
The minyan of the Rabbi belonged to the most devote Lubavitch Hassid's. The
prayer there was done with great intent and enthusiasm. Not many belonged to
that temple. Those who did belong were very reverent and greatly educated in
bible studies.
I remember my first visit to the old shteble when I was a little boy, one cold
day when outside it was 'Siberia' as the natives would call it, in the
synagogue it was warm. The Shamash, Eliyahu Abba was not cheap with the
firewood. He kept putting more and more wood into the furnace. Chayim- Zalman
Yuda's (son of Yuda Zushas' Alperovitz ), a Jew with a somber, serious face was
sitting near the fireplace wearing his talit and tfilin and studying Tnaiya. He
was reading aloud and he studied vigorously some passages. He looked very
strange, he was shaking and moving back and forth in excitement. He was
continuously saying," Omer Hu Tzadik v'Tov lo, Omer hu Tzadik v'Ralo"
"omer hu Rasha V'ralo, Omer hu Tzadik Gamor, He tells…
My eyes met the smiley eyes of the Shamash Eliyahu. Since I was more then a
bit mischievous I couldn't stop laughing. Immediately everyone started yelling
at me, "Wild boy, you are making fun of us in a holy place!!!". My
lucky break, at that moment the door opened and Chayim Abram Alperovitch
entered. He was a tall sturdy man. He looked like he could hardly contain his
excitement, his expression was full of delighted and he was holding a huge wine
bottle. "Jews," he yelled loudly, "Drink to life, L'Chaim. My
wife Yachka brought to the world a male child and his name in Israel would be
Dania." (Dania perished in Naarutz)
The old Shteible was built with red bricks. Near the door in the Western Wall,
there was a big sink to wash your hands. On the walls, there were shelves full
of books. The people who would pray here were Laibe Masha's, Ykutiel Meir
Kremer, Yisrael Micheal the Shochet, my father Eliyahu Alperovitz the Lemonade
maker. They were also Lubavitch Hassid's and they would sit studying from early
in the morning until late at night too. They would read the bible, they would
say Tehilim and converse about social matters.
The central Syasgague was influenced by new concepts. Although the members were
Hassidic Lubavitchers too, they were not as devoted. You could see that they
took certain freedoms with the prayers. The prayers were short and done in
haste. Sometimes during the Torah readings, they permitted personal
conversations. There was not true devotion and truly some of the members were
unhappy with the way prayers were done and transferred back to the old
Shteible.
Biet Hamidrash belong to the Mitnagdim and many amongst the Hassidic Jews
looked at that synagogue with a little disrespect. "Look at the way they
pray" they would say," they don't even start with Hodu, the start
with Mizmor Shir Hanukat Habiet…" In that place most of the members
were working class people, the crafts men and handy men. There was hardly
devotion or excitement. The prayers were quiet. The prayers were said with
sweetness and softly. Often they would have a Magid and the crowd would listen
to his speech intently.
I remember that on Saturday before the Mincha prayer I went to the Beit Midrash
to hear the moralistic statement of one of those Magids. He was a short, skinny
Jew that had big black eyes with a gloomy expression. He stood next to the Holy
Ark, wearing his talit and told his sermon in front of the crowd in a weepy
voice, he would interpret passages. When he reached the passage, "Halachto
ba'derech"he said "One time I went to a specific place and 'eshma
Kolkore' all of a sudden while I am still walking I heard a crying begging
voice of a man. Veahen Kol V'hor, meaning I began looking around me to see
where the voices came from and then I saw, Oy Laanyim Sheko rohot, what do you
think I saw? I saw that the angels of destruction pushed a man to the ground,
held him by force, and huge cows stepped on him and squeezed his body to the
ground. Veshalam Veomar, I approached the angel of destruction and asked,
Mahetor Ve ma eashtor, what is the evil deeds of this man that you treat him
like that. Veeshma Et Kolam Vecover, I heard the answer, a big sin he did he
cut his payas". He was saying his sermon with a sad, expressive deep tone
and the whole synagogue was dark and mysterious looking. All of a sudden he
yelled with a big shaking voice," House of Jacob, seeds of Israel,
immediately return to your old ways of the past, who knows, tomorrow may be too
late." The Jews sat with a worried look in their eyes. From the women's
section, there was a quiet cry. I was sitting next To Hershel, the water
carrier. He was whispering either to himself or to me in a very expressive
voice that was full of regret and remorse, "If the barber would once more
dare to touch my Payas I will break his bones. This is my vow and if I don't
fulfill it, it is as if I am not a Jew."
Shabbat
Other than Shabat, those other days were special in Kurenitz; Sunday was the
goyim Sabbath, Tuesday was the market day and Friday there was the evening of
Shabat. On Friday women got up very early and prepared the big ovens, then they
would run to the market to buy fish. On Friday we (the young boys), would be
studying in the Cheder only until midday. Then I would run like a leaping deer
from the Cheder, home. It was customary on Friday to eat kugel…
Immediately as we would sit to eat the door would open and Shlomo Hyim would
enter. We use to call him the Nail, I don't know why. He was a poor
Jew and vagabond and would eat at our house
every Friday. He was of average build with a dark long beard and sad eyes. When
he spoke, he would stutter. He was very spiritual and artistic and would like
to draw the holy buildings and the Wailing Wall. He had a beautiful voice and
he like to sing Russian songs. Yet something was wrong with him, if you made
any movement with your hand, like scratching yourself, immediately his face
would wear a melancholy look, he would jump out of his seat as if a snake had
bit him and would leave the table, go to my mother and start stuttering.
I – Gaverit Hada – Hi – Ta – Hita – Bedal –
Hinov – Hita – Sham – Srefa. My
mother, a very generous woman would smile and say, "Shlomo Hyim, until you
are done telling your story the day will end and I will need to bless the
candles, and I still have so much work, so it is better for you to eat
now." Shlomo Chayim could not refuse my mother, he was listening to my
mothers commands intently and was always ready to eat her delicacies with a
good appetite and would fill his dish with food.
Doors would open and close, Jews would go to receive the Shabbat. My father and
I would also go to the Synagogue. Everything in the Synagogue was very clean
and shining. Yitza Chatzies' (Charles Gelmans' father), was a very handy person
he made beautiful lamps and the place had an oura of light blue splendor. The
lamps would make a soft murmur sound that sounded like a devotional prayer. The
eastern wall was crowded with long bearded Jews. They looked a bit pale
standing underneath the blue light. They opened their Siddurs and immediately
we would hear the voice of Gatze Dinerstein who was passing in front of the
ark. When he would reach the passage; "Arbaim Shana Aku baor imtoeh
l'vahem…" I would usually be very hungry and could not hold any
longer I would run home early. My quick-witted mother received me with a smile
and say to my sisters, " NU my daughters, come quickly, the town crier is
here from the synagogue." While talking she would give me baked goods full
of cinnamon and raisins. A short time later Father and Shlomo Chayim would
arrive. They would take off their Tallits and we would walk quietly around the
house. First my father, then Shlomo Chayim behind him and me in the back. We
would sing, " Shalom Alechem Malechie Hasharet." The house would be
all clean and sparkly and lit. We would wash our hands and sit by the table.
Mother usually wearing a green dress with a colorful piece of jewelry in the
middle, green was a good contrast to her light brown hair. My sisters were also
all dressed up and in their braids little rings and ribbons intertwined. My
father would do the Kiddush and give everyone the Hamotzi. Mother would then
serve the fish and the feast would begin. Usually Shlomo Chayim would treat the
fish like a hungry wolf and would put a lot of Horseradish on it, would start
breathing heavily until his forehead turned blue and his eyes would tear. He
would stutter with expression of reverence and blame, "Oh, ho the horse
radish is like dynamite."
Saturday, early in the morning I am asleep, but father is already walking
around the house and singing the morning prayers. Immediately after, they take
the big pale from the oven and also the milk pale that now has a brown crust.
So we sit and drink tea with milk. Then Jews started going to the synagogue
wearing their tallitot. Yonkal starts with the Hodu prayer and when they
reached El Adon, Moshe the forester would stand and pray Shaharit. Then it is
time for little fights concerning the selling of Aliyot. Many people want
Aliyot so they usually sell to the highest bidder. Now it is the turn for my
father to go on the Beema to read from the Torah. Then for the Musaf, Yisrael
Michal, the shochet would pass by the ark. When the prayers end the Jews would
bless each other with friendship, good Shabbas, and our neighbor, Yekutiel
Kramer would continue sitting by the table studying. Our neighbor Yekutiel was
a perfect example for the big change the Shabbat can make for a Jewish man.
Those days he lived in the house of Chyena, in her back yard. It was tiny house
the size of a "sigh" as we used to call it. He was very poor and had
many young children then. His income from the flower store was very small and
six days of the week you would see him running around looking very worried and
his clothes would turn white from the flowers. On Shabat you would not
recognize him, it was as if he was born again. He was full of excitement and
happiness and in his eyes, there was an expression of kindness. He would sit
and sing and everyone would listen. "B'zman She Cohien Gadol Nichnas
Vhisnashehor." Then he would explain the passage "when the big Cohen
would come to the Holy Temple to pray, there were three Cohenim to hold him.
One from his right, one from his left and one from the precious rocks. When the
one that is above him heard the sound of the foot steps of the big Cohen he
would hope he would open the ark". While he would read a holy expression
would spread on his face.
After the Saturday rest, My father would sit in the synagogue and study. I can
remember the tune even today. He learned the tune while studying in the
Ramulous Yashiva in Vilna…
Pinya the metal merchant would study intently from "Tzemach Tzedek"
and the tip of his beard he would hold in his mouth. It must be very difficult
text that he would usually read, he always read very intently. And then when it
seems like has grasped it he would start singing in a Labovitch tune. Fischel
the tailor and David the shoe maker would usually sit next to each other and
say Tehilim. My Rabbi Yitza Moshe would read from the Zohar, and his eyes would
be very red since it was a tradition for him to stay awake all of Friday night.
However, not everyone would sit in the synagogues. The youth desired some
entertainment. They want to breath some fresh air, so they would take a journey
through Dolhinov St up to the Delga all the way to the pear tree. Dusk comes
and the Mincha prayers would go home to eat the three meals. But at this time
it was usually depressing for me and my appetite would seem to be lacking.
Nevertheless, it is a commandment to eat the three meals so I would force my
self to eat. Soon after the meals people return to the synagogue in the dark
with only one candle usually. In the dark everyone's faces looked somber and
depressed. The children would sit around and tell tales about Tzadiks and
ghosts that must return to Hell after Havdalla. And then there will be a sudden
knock on the table that was on the Beema and then it was time for Ma'ariv
service. Vhu Rachoom Iyaher Avon… and then the prayers would end. Jews
would bless each other and leave for the streets and for some reason they would
walk with heavy steps and a bit sad.
The Charitable Institution: Gmilut Chesed
When I was a young child, I was obviously not knowledgeable of the social
affairs in town. There is one thing though that was very clear to me: the poor
natives were never neglected and passers by, whom we used to call
"guests", on the eve of Shabat would always be invited for a Shabat
meal. Considering the fact that our town's Jews were not particularly well off,
my father, rest his soul, was known as a well off Jew, but he too needed loans
for his business. People were always ready to give a helping hand, and a hand
that was begging was never ignored. They would collect money for the brides and
the weddings, Achnesad Kalah. For "Albushat Avyonim," meaning to
cloth the "naked" and "Maot Chitim," to feed the poor. The
money was collected for both the needy from Kurenets and outside of Kurenets.
Most people happily gave, each one as he could afford, and some of them more
than they could really afford. There was a Jew in Kurenets, a very respectable
looking Jew, by the name of Lebim Nashesh. The essence of his existence was to
give in secret "Matan Baseter." (So, the poor would not be
embarrassed) Often during the winter, he would send a bag full of wood to one
of the numerous homes whose residents could not afford buying them. Another
righteous woman in our town was Zipah, the wife of Yashe leb Kramer, who knew
every detail of the property of every family in town. Nothing would prevent
her, not snow nor rain. She was always in a hurry collecting money for charity.
One time for a Jewish girl whose time of marriage had arrived;" it's
shameful to tell, but she didn't have any underwear to wear". Another time
for young child who "reached the age to go to the Cheder, but he sits at
home and cannot go study the Torah, since the winter is in its midst and he was
still barefoot without any shoes." Another time for "a family who's
breadwinner was sick and there was no income". Ever since I remember, my
father was the Gabai of Gmilut Chesed, the charity institution. Since that was
his job, I was able to experience the difficult financial situation that was
occurring those days within the Jewish population. The rules of the institution
were so that my father was allowed to lend money only if they gave collateral
that had some monetary value. Many times, my father did not keep the rules and
it was enough for him that they would just bring something symbolically. If
someone would have asked those days to learn and investigate the Jewish
economic situation in town, all he needed to do was to climb the ladder to our
attic. There he would see a large inventory of the pounded town's possessions.
Pots and pans, candle holders, silver spoons, books, hats, and copper
containers. It was like a little supermarket. Father's assistant in his work
was Abraham Eetzah, the teacher, an old Jew, tall, but now from old age all
bent. He had a white beard, and his face was very pale. He held in his hand a
cane. He was the accountant and the payment collector. This duty was done every
Friday in the afternoon when he was done with teaching in the Cheder. In small
steps, leaning on his cane, he would enter our home prior to the blessing of
the candles. From his pocket, he would take a small cloth bag. With his shaky
hands, he would open the ties and, carefully, he would put on the table copper
coins of different denominations and start sorting them into organized
denominations. After he was done with organizing and counting, he would take
from his religious bag a little blue notebook and, since his eyesight was poor,
he would ask me to help him. With shaky lips he would read for me and I would
write. Sheemunatah Deteloh didn't give anything. He had no job. David, the
shoemaker, didn't give anything, he had no penny. Or, sometimes, he would say
the opposite. Sheemunatah Deteloh is done with his loan and David, the
shoemaker, paid so-and-so. This blue notebook had the answer to the question:
why do the Jews in Kurenets immigrate to far away places. I remember many times
a particular woman would come with her fur coat in her hand and beg my father.
"Reb Eliyahu," and with embarrassed face she would continue,
"The gentile came and gave me the fur coat for sewing but he didn't come
to take it back so I didn't give anything to Abraham Eetzah. However, I must
have the candleholders to bless the Shabbat. It would be too embarrassing if
the neighbors saw me without them." She would clear the tears out of her
eyes with her apron and continue. "Do me a big favor Reb Eliyahu, Get the
candleholders and take the fur coat as collateral." So father would take
her fur coat and bring it to the attic, and from there he would bring the
candleholders. On Sunday, the woman would come and bring the candleholders for
exchange. One time, Seepah, the wife of Yasha leb Kramer, came running to our
house wearing a big kerchief on her head and boots on her feet. She was talking
so fast that we could hardly understand what she was saying. She said something
like, "Reb Eliyahu we must do something for Mooshah the daughter of
Eetzah. She's already ready for marriage. The poor soul is an orphan from her
mother. Now we find a Sheedech for her, but she is so poor and has nothing. Her
dresses are patch on top of patch. Eetzeh Moshe taught three generations of
men. You, yourself, studied with him. Now Yonkeleh, your son, is studying with
him. Chesed must do something for her. The women are already doing a lot."
While she was telling us that, she shook the coins in a kerchief. When she saw
my mother, she jumped towards her and yelled, "Hadah!" then whispered
something in her ear. Mother opened the closet where she kept her underwear. A
few minutes later, Zeepah leaves our home with a little package. I ran after
her and said, "Zeepah! Father sends a sixth small coin." And I gave
her the coin that father gave me to buy some candy at Benyah's store. Zeepah
understood that the small amount is not from father. She took the coin and
pulled me toward her and kissed my forehead and ran off. Father didn't tell me
how much the institution gave for Mooshah, but one thing I know not too long
after, she was married.
Passover
What energy the women of the town put preparing for Passover! The poorest of
them painted their homes by themselves and came to our house to take the paint.
The wealthier homes would hire painters but this was not done hastily and
simply. In our home, the painters were Stach and Yachmina, a Christian couple.
They were average in height, with red noses and watery eyes from being
perpetual drunks. The had a run-down house behind the bath-house near the big
swamps. They were the town's goyim shel Shabbat. When they would come to work,
The first thing we had to put for them was a bottle of wine and salty fish.
"Hadah", they would say, "without a glass of wine our hands are
paralyzed". After breakfast, they would mix the paint and start to paint
the wall. To enter the room was a very scary proposition. If someone dared, he
would come out of there covered by paint. They were not painting, they were
spraying. "Stach," my mother would ask with a warm smile, "I ask
you please to paint the walls, not the floor and windows." When Stach
would hear mother's request, he would start laughing and answer, "Ha ha
ha. Don't be worried Hadetzkah. We will make your house so so beautiful! And
when your holy God will enter your house he will be so please that he will
bless you and you bear another son! "(Stach knew a lot of the Jewish
customs and knew that in Passover we opened the door, so as he could understand
it we were opening it for God who was making a journey from house to house) The
house would look like a battle zone. Tables and chairs would be moved. However,
ultimately they would arrange things and then everything, all the tools and
dishes would be washed. The matzahs in the guest room would be covered with
white sheets, and I would hold a lit candle and father would hold a wooden
spoon and a goose-feather. We would go window by window and Abbah would clear
every gram of Chametz and would say, "Call Chameerah, the Eeshal
Belshoodee." On the morning of the evening of Passover, we would get up
very early. Since my father was his parents' oldest boy, every year he would do
the Seeyum of the Maschitah. We would hurry to pray with the first minion.
After the first prayer, we would drink Le Chaim in the synagogue and return
home. When we would return, we would find that the last rooms were already
prepared for Passover, and Emmah would not let any of us enter. At 10am we
would eat the last Chametz meal. Father would take the wooden spoon that was
covered and tied and would burn the Chametz in a little oven would say,
"Asher kidshanu bemitzvotav, vitzeevanu al beuoor Chametz." All the
town's furnaces would be burning. According to the rules, the furnaces must be
so hot that the rocks would glow red like fire and throw sparks. From every
chimney, you could see smoke coming to the clear spring skies. The fear of fire
was large, particularly in Smorgon Street, where there lived a thrifty misery
Jew who never cleaned his chimney. The smoke that came from his chimney was
somewhere between black and red. We are all in a hurry that day. We cleared the
last dishes in the bathhouse, we took down the Passover dishes from the attic.
Now, my mother gives me and my sister, Rocheleh, a new job, Lachtosh Misot, to
fix the matzot. This is a difficult job, but I have no choice. Most of the work
I have to do. My sister, Rocheleh, who is very tricky always managed to get
away. She would say, "Yonkel, my stomach is hurting me awfully," and
she would run to the yard. She would return to help for two minutes, then say,
"Oh, my hand is tired. You do it Yonkel, in return I'll give you some
nuts. I'm mixing and mixing and I'm so tired that I can't feel my hand."
Dressed like noblemen, I in a new suit and my new shoes that are a little big
for me, my mother put cotton in them, Father in his black and white suit we go
to the synagogue. After the Mariv prayer, my father sends me to bring Saftah
Gelkah Alperovich to the seder. Saftah Gelkah, tiny and skinny, her face full
of deep lines, but her little eyes still sparkling with light, never seems to
get old. I dearly loved my Saftah (grandma) Glekah. She always had a present
for me. A cucumber from her garden, wild pears, and others. When I would come
to Saftah, I would find her all dressed, shining in her black dress and jacket,
I would take her to our home for the seder. Father sits at the head of the
table, reclining on pillows. Next to the white pillow cases and the white
tablecloth, my father would appear a little pale but his eagle eyes shined and
his Hertzel beard had a few white hairs was all very groomed. And mother, it's
a miracle, she worked so hard, when did she find time to get dressed and look
so beautiful! Everything in the house is shiny and clean. The wine in the
glasses seems to be winking in the light. Father reads Kalah Machelanah, I ask
the four questions, and then we read the Hagadah. We eat and drink from the
wine that warms the body. There is one thing that I was never able to do: steal
the afikomen. I would watch my sister with seven eyes, but she would always be
first and not only that, at the end she would mock me and point at me. The next
day, Stach and Yachmeena would get rewards for the painting of the house. They
would get the wine that we used for the 10 plagues and call it Makot. My little
sister would say, "Stach, Mechnah, makot?" Stach would make a happy
facial expression and would tell his wife, "Smatzah! Davie yashtah!"
Each home in town had a seder. Many homes couldn't afford real wine and they
would use another beverage, usually honey water. In houses that couldn't afford
Cheft fish, they would eat the Yazga fish. Nevertheless, matzah was in every
home and people would say the hagadah very intently. There was a story about
one Jew in town, who came from the synagogue and saw the wine bottle on the
table, couldn't wait for the seder and started drinking glass after glass. When
his wife begged him to read a little from the hagadah, her drunken husband
answered, "What is there to read? We all know that the Pharoh was
son-of-a-gun" While I'm telling that story, I must tell the story of
Abremel Eibender who, came to the synagogue the day after Passover limping and
on his forehead he had a big bump. Everyone was wondering. It was known that
Abemel was not a wild man, he would not touch a fly. And his wife, Yonah, is a
peaceful person too. So how was he so injured? Mayeebel would not answer the
questions but in Kurenets, you couldn't keep a secret and eventually we found
out. Since he was a very devoted Lebabovitch Chasid, he had a tradition not to
only tell the exit from Egypt, but to" live" the exit from Egypt. He
would put a big pail full of water in his house. On his shoulder, he would put
a big bag. Moreover, like the fathers of our fathers, he would quickly jump
from one side of the pail to the other as if he was crossing the sea. However,
that Seder was not a lucky one for him, and his foot fell into the pail and
that was how he was hurt.
The first days of Passover the air is usually still, cool, but the sun is
shining and the street shines in a golden light. The frost is gone from the
windows, but you still see a few drops of shining water from the edges of the
roofs. Birds fly in the blue skies. Everyone is dressed in holiday clothes,
visiting each other, and the heart is full of hope.
Rosh Hashanah
The synagogues are completely filled since morning. Jews come dressed in white
and the Shachareet prayer with the Chazan is very long. Then, they take the
Torah out of the ark, and father starts reading with a special tune for Rosh
Hashanah. Vedah Beched Etzkarah. After the reading, there is a short break.
Then, Rav Noach and Israel Michael Hashochet go to the beema with their talit
covering their faces. Moshe Baruch de Shamach hits the table with his hand as
if he is warning the crowd. Israel Mechal, under is talit, is praying. Min
chametz ebati yeal chamatee beah. He's not finished with the first sentence
before everyone in the synagogue answers him and says the passage. When they
are done, Reb Noach says quitely, "Shavareem tuat keeyah." I remember
that one Rosh Hashanah, I was very sad during the Krieyot. I was reading one of
the passages and there was a passage where you have to do it very slowly,
carefully, not in one breath, and with great intention. I was not careful, and
said it in one breath. That made me so scared that cold sweat came to my
forehead. When they are done with the Keyot, they return the Torah to the ark
and now it's time for Israel Icha the chazan to pray the Moosaf. Then, his
helpers go to the steps that would take you to the ark. One would be Netkah,
the son of David the hat maker, a small boy who has black eyes and pink cheeks;
his voice is as beautiful as a nightengale. Then a few other kids go up. There
is total quietness in the synagogue. Then enters Israel Shedrech dressed all in
white. He whispers something to his assistants and they nod their heads in
agreement. Then he gives a saying to Rasheb Mabarooch and hits his head on the
table. His sweet singing is done in hushed tones "Hee nah nee hee nah
nee." And the assistants help with the hum. Then, he will start much
louder almost yelling, "I came here to beg for you! To beg for the nation
of Israel." From the silence to the loud begging in such a short time, it
leaves a huge impression on me. And not just on me, the child, but all the
adults are shaking. Their eyes are tearful. Still today, many years later, I
shake when I remember this moment.
Yom Kippur
The Meencha prayer on the evening of Yom Kippur was done very early. It was
entertaining for me to see respectful Jews with their long beards lying on the
floor like cheder boys and the very short Moshe Baruch the Shamas would hit
them with a whip to clear their sins. In our house, we would eat our Harucha
Mafseket, the meal before the fast, when the sun was still high in the sky.
Father would change his clothes and my oldest sisters would wash the dishes.
Mother would bless the little children, who were my sister, Rochaleh, and I.
When she ended the blessing, she would hug us. She will tell me, "Nu,
shanah tovah, my only son. May you grow, my son, healthy and complete and be a
good Jew. And may I be blessed so that I can bring you to the Hoopah and have
the pleasure to see you grow and become a man, my dear one." Then we will
go, my sister Rochaeleh and I, to Saftah Hinda to bless her with… Safta
(grandma) Hinda was skinny and bent, she was light and pale and her eyes would
be shining with tears of excitement. She would come to close, kiss us and bless
us. "Shenah tovah my grandchildren. I so hope that I will be able to be at
your weddings. Then I will dance like a young girl."
|
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| Eltkah nee Perski with Husband, Eetzah Rabunski |
Uncle Eetzah Rabunski, tall and strong, his face is fresh and his blue eyes are
smart and peaceful. Usually he sits with no kippah on his head. Now he sits
with a hat. Next to him sits his young wife, Aunt Eltkah nee Perski (sister to
Shimon Peres' father), a very pretty woman with a turned up nose and a
beautiful smile. They would hug us and kiss us. I remember one time, when I was
ready to leave, my uncle, the brother of my mother, Eetzah Rabunski, said with
a smile on his face, "Yonkel did you ever hear how the Russian czar would
say Kol Nedre?" I looked at him wondering what the Russian czar had with
Kol Nedre ? Then Uncle Eetzah takes out a newspaper that is published in Vilnah
and starts singing while reading it in the tune of Kol Nedre. "Kol Nedre,
all the promises that I gave concerning the constitution and all the rules that
I made prohibiting the hurt of Jews, all of them are canceled. Vosh chelim
velot chenin. All my promises our worth nothing. Nadrana voderee nashtanah
otmaot. All that I swore with my life is worth as much as a bark of a wild
dog." And, while laughing he continues, "Yonkel, remember that
tomorrow in your prayer you must ask that the czar, the Vilnah governor, and
all the helpers will be brought to a strange death." Aunt Eltkah nee
Perski laughed, but Safta Hinda is mad at the lightheartedness and the joking
on the evening of Yom Kippur.
The synagogue is full. Everywhere there are containers full of sand and in them
there are big candles, medium candles, and small candles. Candles everywhere.
They don't wear shoes, they wear ______. Israel Eetzah, his assistant and his
choir start with Kol Nedre. After the prayer, many Jews stay in the synagogue.
Some say preteen. Some Jews stay all night in the synagogue, they just lie for
a short time on the tough benches and then return to the prayer.
The Day of Yom Kippur
The sun had just risen. The ground and the grass in the fields were all wet
from the morning dew, and there was the mist of early autumn. If Rosh Hashanah
appeared as a storm in the synagogue, the day of Yom Kippur seemed like an
earthquake. People would pray with their hearts filled with pain. Their lips
would move, sometimes in whispers, sometimes in screams of angst. Pity us!
Don't discard us now that we have reached old age! The people who came for the
prayer of Shah harit would read from the Bible, and Israel Itzha would pray
“Musaf”. Jews would sway back and forth with fervor, and then they
would stand for the prayer of Shmona-Esreh (18). They would beat their fists
against the tablets of their hearts (on their breast) for all their sins, and
then Leibe Masha's would approach the Ark and bang the table and all the
congregation would stand up and say, “Venatna tokef kadushat
hayyom…”
The impression that the Jewish congregation left on me as a child was
unforgettable. The way they swayed and shook, and the way their voices cracked
when praying in ways that would break your heart. “
Hayyom norah veh ayom. Ke lo yizkor, beh eneha badim…” (The day is
horrible and frightening since they will not receive justice in your eyes).
But even deeper and more powerful than that was the impression left in me from
the minutes when the entire congregation stood as if frozen without the
slightest movement at the moment when Israel Itzha, who was the messenger of
the congregation and his helpers, would start with Berosh Hashanah Yikatvun (In
Rosh Hashanah they will be inscribed). He would stand with his eyes looking
skyward, and he would spread his arms upward to the sky, and the sleeves of the
kitl which were very wide, made him look like a miraculous bird that was
flapping its wings, saying, “Mi l'chaim ou mi l'mavet?”
(who is to live and who is to die?). His assistant, in a soft, splendid and
clear voice, was joined by other singers whose faces became red from the task.
They would sing “Beyom, tsom kippur yakhtemun” (In the day of the
fast of Yom Kippur, it will be signed).
From the other area, where the women sat, came down voices and cries that would
quickly spread throughout the entire synagogue. I would recognize the voice of
Sarah Rifka, the wife of Yekutiel Meir Ha-Cohen Kramer, and truthfully Sarah
Rifka had a good reason to cry: not only did they have difficulties in eking a
living, but in their house grew up a blind child (David) that the physicians
had not been able to cure. Everyone's heart would cry when we would watch how
they helped him walk to the synagogue. “
Mi bekitzor, mi lobektizor?” (Who is at the end of his days? And who is
not at the end of his days?) cried Israel Itzha, and the entire congregation
would join in crying with him. After this prayer I would watch my father and
would see that although he was usually not among the sentimental people, he
would also weep, and surreptitiously wipe his eyes with a kerchief.
Many hours would pass, the sun would set in the evening in the west. From the
windows you could see the sun's last rays of autumn, and soon you knew that her
light would vanish. The colors of the sky would shift at dusk, from blues to
reds… Pale fogs would envelope the forest behind Kosita Street. On the train
tracks, a loud, fast train would go in the direction of Vileyka. The engine
car would billow out smoke and small, fiery explosions. Then you would hear a
loud whistle that would shake the heavens! This sound was foreign to the holy
atmosphere of the gut-wrenching prayers of the faithful soul-searchers. The
synagogue would be shadowed by painful and depressing blackness, only a few
little candles would still be flickering in the containers in the sand. The
Hazan's voice would already be strained, and the congregation of prayers would
be exhausted from both the fast and the emotional prayers. But in the sky, the
first stars would appear, and a loud announcement would be made for, “Next
year in Jerusalem!” Then Israel Mikhail would blow the shofar loudly. In
this darkness it seemed as if a little flicker of hope would be sparked.
Everyone seemed to be uplifted and Jews would bless one another for a good
year.
Pinya, who sold iron goods, did his entire prayer all the way from early in the
morning while standing and he did not sit down for even one second, would start
singing with great excitement a tune of Lubavitch Hasids, and many would join
him. “In the mercy of our father in the heavens, we overcame Satan the Executioner,
may we soon be blessed to hear the sound of the shofar announcing the coming of
the Messiah!” Now people would pray, more comforted, the prayer of
Maariv. Even when the Maariv prayer was all done, people in the congregation
were in no hurry. They would step outside to bless the moon, renewing it. Old
Jews would start jumping as if they were little children, babies ready to go to
their first cheder, saying to each other, “Shalom aleihem, shalom aleihem,
shalom” whiile pointing to different congregation members, being in no hurry
to return home.
|
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| Kurenets youth celebrating |
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