Uncertainty: Chapter One
Uncertainty: Chapter Two
Uncertainty: Chapter Three
Uncertainty: Chapter Four
Uncertainty: Chapter Five
Uncertainty: Chapter Six
Uncertainty: Chapter Seven
Uncertainty: Chapter Eight
Uncertainty: Chapter Nine
Terboven’s visit to the farm left us shaken, and forced Abba and Eema to think more clearly about our safety, and whether it was still possible to hide from the Nazis without getting caught. While I had my own opinion about the matter and tried many times to express myself, no one seemed remotely interested in what I had to say.
“To them–even though I was twelve-and-a-half–I was considered little more than a child who should be seen and not heard, which was quite a departure from the way it used to be when everything was normal.”
“‘Bertie, your Mutti and I have some important business to discuss. Could you maybe give us a bissel time alone?'” was usually Abba’s way of telling me to get lost.
“So I took my complaint to Eva, and told her that Abba and Eema were plotting our future without us, and we should have a say in it. But she wanted no part of it. All Eva wanted to do was dress her doll for tea and draw pictures of a stick family standing beside a tree in front of a house on a hill with smoke coming out the chimney.”
Abba and Eema’s dismissal, and Eva’s indifference left me feeling lonely, and I longed for my friends at home.
“I wonder what became of Toni Ehrlich and the Greenberg girls. We used to be inseparable–probably because all of us came from similar family backgrounds, and each of my friends’ parents had a similar business on Abba’s side of the street. Everyday after school, Toni and Sully Greenberg and I would walk to the other Academy down the street and wait for Rosa Greenberg and Eva’s class to dismiss.”
“Once we were all together, the five of us would walk to the Jewish business district where we dropped our books at the shop, and depending on the day of the week, we would continue to Talmud Torah1 on Monday, or gymnastics on Tuesday, or piano lessons on Wednesday.”
“But Thursdays were different. That was my alone time with Abba, when he would accompany me to ballet class, and watch me dance. On the way home, we often stopped at the music store so Abba could select an opera or symphony record to bring home and play on the phonograph, with me trying to sound it out on the piano.”
“Friday afternoons were always spent at home with Eema. Once Eva and I arrived at the haberdashery, the three of us would climb the flight of stairs at the back of the shop to our kitchen to prepare for Shabbos. Eema and I cooked together, while Eva set the table with special plates from the antique hutch in the dining room. Then we waited for Abba to close the shop at sundown so we could light the Shabbos candles together.”
“Shabbos dinner always started with chicken soup–sometimes with lokshen2 or kreplach3–followed by a roasted chicken or beef brisket served with potato kugel4. After dinner, we sat around the table listening to the radio, while Eema served her homemade babka5 for dessert. I can still remember listening to a broadcast of Otto Klemperer conducting the Italian Symphony, and Abba feeling so proud that Maestro and Mendelssohn were both Jewish.”
“However, after Hitler was appointed Chancellor in 1933, and the Nazis took over, the music of Mendelssohn, Mahler and Meyerbeer was forbidden in Germany, and replaced by Wagner and lots of anti-Semitic propaganda. Abba became so furious that one day he ripped the plug from the radio out of the wall, and stored the radio in the closet for good. We never listened to radio again, even though the Nazis taxed us every month to cover the cost of their programs.”
“From then on, we would mostly talk at the dinner table about anything, but mostly about culture and Torah, since Abba was such a frum6 man who came from an Orthodox upbringing. In fact, Abba knew the prayers so well that many times the rabbi would call upon him to lead the service and read from the Torah during Shabbos. And even though Eema and Eva had to sit upstairs with the other women–apart from the men–I got to sit downstairs in the front row and watch Abba daven on the bimah7.”
“But now, everything is upside down and twisted all around. When we first arrived at the farm, everything felt like an adventure–like being on vacation. We would hike in the woods, and scout the area for oyster mushrooms, and play hide and seek. But after a month of hiding, it’s not as much fun anymore. We don’t go to shul anymore; We don’t visit the library anymore; we don’t listen to music anymore; I don’t have my friends anymore; and WE DON’T TALK TO EACH OTHER ANYMORE!”
I must have startled Shaina Maidel with my outburst. She reared her head as I was tying the last of her braids. Or maybe she was just agreeing with me.
I stroked her ears and she immediately calmed down.
“I don’t mean you, girl. You’re my friend, and I can always talk to you. You’re the only one who seems to listen to me.”
The light was fading in the barn, and I could feel the temperature dropping. I placed the heavy red blanket with black trim over her back, and gave her a big hug before passing the van and closing the barn doors behind me.
5sweet Polish coffee cake
7raised area around the Ark, where the Torah is stored