“When you’ll marry yourself in America, will you yet remember us?”
God from the world! That last Friday night before I went to America! Maybe it is the last time we are together was in everybody’s eyes. Everything that happened seemed so different from all other times. I felt I was getting ready to tear my life out from my body.
Without the Saifer Torah the house was dark and empty. The sun, the sky, the whole heaven shined from that Holy Book on the wall, and when it was taken out it left an aching emptiness on the heart, as if something beautiful passed out of our lives.
I yet see before me my father in the Rabbi’s cap, with eyes that look far away into things; the way he sang the prayer over the wine when he passed around the glass for every one to give a sip. The tears rolled out from my little sister’s eyes down her cheeks and fell into the wine. On that my mother, who was all the time wiping her tears, burst out crying. “Shah! Shah!” commanded my father, rising up from his chair and beginning to walk around the room. “It’s Sabbath night, when every Jew should be happy. Is this the way you give honor to God on His one day that He set aside for you?”
On the next day, that was Sabbath, father as if held us up in his hands, and everybody behaved himself. A stranger coming in couldn’t see anything that was going on, except that we walked so still and each one by himself, as if somebody dying was in the air over us.
On the going-away morning, everybody was around our house waiting to take me to the station. Everybody wanted to give a help with the bundles. The moving along to the station was like a funeral. Nobody could hold in their feelings any longer. Everybody fell on my neck to kiss me, as if it was my last day on earth.
“Remember you come from Jews. Remember to pray every day,” said my father, putting his hands over my head, like in blessing on the day of Atonement.
“Only try that we should be together soon again,” were the last words from my mother as she wiped her eyes with the corner of her shawl.
“Only don’t forget that I want to study, and send for me as quick as you marry yourself,” said Yosef, smiling good-bye with tears in his eyes.
As I saw the train coming, what wouldn’t I have given to stay back with the people in Savel forever! I wanted to cry out: “Take only away my ticket! I don’t want any more America! I don’t want any more my lover!”