Read The End of Days Online

Authors: Helen Sendyk

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

The End of Days (7 page)

 
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felt helpless. She couldn't just bring Jacob home and say she met him by herself. It wasn't done that way, not by Reb Symche Stapler's daughter.
"Who is he?" Papa would ask her. "Who is the family?" She couldn't answer Papa's questions. She was well aware that she liked Jacob, but she tried to repress her feelings. Surely Papa has someone interesting for me, and someone from a good family, Blimcia told herself. She trusted Papa's judgment. After all, Papa was the one who raised and provided for the whole family. He taught her everything she knew about running a store. Papa knew so many people and was loved by so many. Whatever Papa did was the right thing, and so, then, was this match.
Tense and apprehensive, Blimcia sat at the table when Reb Zisha came in. She was anxious to see who followed; it might be the man she was to spend the rest of her life with. The blood rushed to her face when she saw Jacob standing there. She almost jumped up to greet him but caught herself in time. She felt like a schoolgirl, her cheeks burning hot and her tongue in a knot.
Jacob was formally introduced and was seated across from her. Mama was busy serving hot tea with lump sugar, and Papa was talking to Reb Zisha. Jacob was staring into her eyes, his own deep-set gray eyes pleading,
Forgive me
.
Blimcia felt weak from all the tension and was relieved when they finally left. Papa was very impressed with Jacob's learning and knowledge of Torah, and patted Blimcia on the head when she consented to go out with the fine young man.
On their date, Jacob apologized for going to the matchmaker and then not letting her know. They both agreed, however, that it was the only way. "And I did need the chance to get to know you, Blimcia. Will you let me?" he added in a pleading tone.
"I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to," she answered, smiling. "There are a lot of Shalom Aleichem books you can introduce me to."
Over the books of Shalom Aleichem the relationship blossomed. The Mizrachi gave them the opportunity to work on
 
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the same committees. They went to a group outing in the forest, where Blimcia sang to Jacob and played her mandolin. He lay back, staring dreamily into her eyes, thinking, Is this wonderful girl going to be mine one day?
At night he would dream about her. She would be lying in the grass beside him, her head resting in his lap. He was caressing the soft brown hair that fell over her cheek. Her lips were so close to his. He could almost bend down and drink in her sweet breath. He woke up and pounded the bed. "Tomorrow," he pledged decisively, "I will announce my intentions."
"I cannot wait any longer," he said to Blimcia when they were next alone. "I am going to talk to your father about a wedding."
"My father is expecting it sooner or later," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "Better sooner," she added mischievously.
That night when he brought her home, he said, "I want to seal our agreement with a kiss." She let him kiss her on the lips for the first time. Gently, his soft lips touched hers for a sweet moment.
The church bells loudly rang for another Sunday mass. Blimcia awoke just as the sun peeked out from the rooftops. The air was fresh and brisk as she looked up into a sky that was blue with promise. It was about five o'clock when she woke me up.
"Wake up, Helcia, let me dress you. Remember you made me promise to take you along on our May trip. We must hurry."
I sprang out of bed, thrilled with my sister for keeping her promise. "I will dress myself," I said excitedly.
Jacob arrived before we were ready to go. Blimcia quickly finished packing her basket of fruits and goodies. In the street our carriage was waiting, its hood folded back to let the sunshine in. The horse was chewing feed from a sack hung around its neck. Blimcia slipped into the carriage, which was crowded full of her friends, and held me in her lap.
The driver shook the reins and the horse started his lazy trot. The driver flicked his whip several times, and the carriage
 
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clanked a bit faster down the cobblestones, the horse picking up more speed on the open road, among the golden wheat fields beyond the city. The young men and women in the carriage sang songs of wheat fields and orange groves in the promised land of Palestine. The songs promised a time of harvesting wheat in our own land, far from the alien corn of Eastern Europe.
The carriage stopped in a small village at the home of relatives of a young man in the group. This fellow, Manek, had arranged for the trip and for his uncle to provide lunch. We were all treated to a country feast on a large table in front of the house. Manek's uncle and aunt brought out baskets full of homemade bread. The cow that provided our fresh butter, cream, cheese, and milk was in the pasture, and I ventured out to see her. Everyone laughed and sang, enjoying the fresh-picked berries for dessert.
Manek took the opportunity to talk with his uncle. ''How are things going, Uncle Baruch?"
"Not what it used to be, my boy," his uncle complained. "The crop was good, but more and more you hear them say, 'Don't buy from a Jew. Jews to Palestine!' Some of the older Gentile folks are embarrassed and make excuses for the Jewhatred of their children. 'Ah, they are young,' they say. But we know the truth: the parents think the same way, but they do a better job of keeping it to themselves. We are not so worried about ourselves, but our children have no future here."
"Don't worry so much, Uncle Baruch," Manek said optimistically, "they can always come to Chrzanow. It's an industrious town, and there is plenty of work for everybody. Why would my cousins want to remain farmers anyway?"
"Farming, my boy, is the only thing they learned here, the only thing they know. It would break our hearts if we had to abandon all this that we worked so hard for. I know my children are welcome in Chrzanow, but by whom? By you, of course; not by the Poles. It's the same all over."
"Not true, Uncle Baruch," Manek argued. "Chrzanow is a big town. The Jews do business there and pay their taxes. The Poles know they need us. What would they do without us?"
 
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"Naive, my boy. You have a lot of growing up to do. The Christians are not the same, neither our peasants nor your townspeople, since the new priests came on the scene. We never had the Garden of Eden here, but we lived and dealt with our neighbors well enough. Now every time they go to church they come out bloodthirsty. They are being fed wafers and poison, wine and Jew-hatred in the churches these days. Here they come from church now," Baruch said, pointing to a passing carriage.
As the carriage rolled by, the cold stare of enmity was unmistakable. The picnickers at the table didn't seem to notice, however.
When lunch was finished and grace said, we piled back into the wagon for the journey home. The sun was now falling behind the hills. The hood of the carriage was raised against the wind. The horse's hooves monotonously clip-clopped and the carriage wheels squeaked along in tune. Someone was telling a story. I fell asleep in Blimcia's lap.
"What a beautiful day it was! Thank you O God, King of the Universe, for granting us this day of pleasure," Blimcia added to her nightly prayers, her eyelids heavy with sleep.
Without delay, preparations began for Blimcia's wedding. A seamstress was summoned by Nachcia, and Mama unraveled rolls of linen cloth that she had been accumulating for just this purpose. The goods were measured, cut, and sewn into fine bed linen, every piece embroidered with a delicate design and Blimcia's initials. All the towels, nightgowns, and kitchen linens were similarly monogrammed. Dress designs were chosen from magazines brought by Papa from Katowice and Krakow. The seamstress and her girls busily made dresses for Mama, Nachcia, and me, as well as the wedding dress for Blimcia. There were new suits for the boys, and even Papa got a long black shiny new
kapota
.
Mama took some rare time out to shop with Blimcia for kitchen utensils. An apartment was rented for the new couple in an elegant new building on the Planty. Then came the hustle and bustle of preparing for the wedding itself. A caterer took
 
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a whole week to cook and prepare a multitude of delicacies, storing everything in our cool basement. The basement shelves were cleared of stock and used to store cooked fish, meats, browned chickens and ducks, sweet sponge cakes and honey cakes, stewed fruits and chilled wines. Early on the day of the wedding the household furniture was replaced by tables and chairs.
Blimcia had her fingernails clipped the day before in the
mikvah
. She now held court in our large kitchen-dining room in front of Goldzia's bed. Blimcia's hair was neatly combed beneath the veils that crowned her face. She was enthroned on a big soft chair, the folds of her white dress engulfing her slender body.
In the late afternoon the guests began arriving. They kissed Blimcia, admired her dress, and commented about her being pale from her prenuptial fast.
"God's presence is upon her," remarked Aunt Esther, "that is why she is a little pale and so beautiful."
"Yes," agreed Cousin Miriam, "that is what our sages teach us, that God's favor rests upon a bride on her wedding day."
Everybody was there. Great-aunt Channa, distinguished, matronly, and soft-spoken, embraced Blimcia and took an honored seat beside the bride. Great-uncle Moishe wore his fine Sabbath garb and greeted the guests from the doorway, wiping his tears with a big red hankie. He was so emotional that he wept like a woman.
When all the guests were present, a delegation was sent out to fetch the groom. Shlamek, the life of the party, called out, "Sholek, we are going to bring the groom." All three cousins named Sholekone in each family was named after Grandfather Shaulpresented themselves to Shlamek. While Shlamek, the three Sholeks, and other male members of the family were gone, the guests stepped outside. Tension filled the air. The musicians were tuning up on their fiddles, cymbals, and trumpets. The desperate photographer attempted to gather everybody onto a bench set up for a family portrait. Aggravated, sweating profusely, and constantly peeking out from behind the large black cloth hood of his camera, he instructed some-
 
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one to stand to the right and another one to stand in the middle. All the while, others would be getting up or turning away. By the time the photos were set up, there came a yell: "Wait, someone is missing."
Suddenly the tumult ceased. Everyone looked at the gate as the sound of distant clapping and singing was heard. The groom's party soon appeared at the far end of the yard. Slowly now, they approached the
huppa
, the wedding canopy. All the youngsters danced and clapped hands in front of Jacob, leading him to the canopy. Jacob looked serene yet exalted. On his serious face a slight smile revealed the joy he felt in his heart. Finally he saw Blimcia step over the threshold, his eyes lighting up as he watched her approaching. Her eyes were lowered, her ethereal face veiled. Mama and Aunt Esther held Blimcia's hands. With tall candles in their free hands, together they led Blimcia to the
huppa
and her destined one. Seven times they circled around the groom, Blimcia keeping her gaze on the ground so as not to dispel the sanctity of the moment.
"You are hereby sanctified unto me," pronounced Jacob, binding their lives together in accordance with the timeless code of israel. Blimcia's dream of total happiness was surely being fulfilled. This man, for whom she had searched all her life, was finally becoming her husband, to love and protect her until the end of their days. And Jacob would no longer be a lonely individual, but half of a couple and head of a family.
The blessings were pronounced and the marriage contract read. A plate was now placed on the ground for him to shatter in commemoration of the destruction of the holy Temple of Jerusalem, for even at celebrations, the Jews are never to forget the sorrow of their dispersion among the nations. Greeting each other with the customary
mazel tov
, the guests were directed into the house to partake of the meal and festivities. The men followed Papa, encircling Jacob in a dance. The women embraced Blimcia, while Mama settled into her role of hostess.
The celebration went on until night. A
badchen
with his instant rhymes sang the praises of the bride and her family to the enjoyment of all assembled, clowning and entertaining

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