Bubbe's Place: Stories

Tovah's Evolution

We found Papa sitting on a bench, staring at a pink granite headstone. Since Papa preferred simple stones, I was surprised when he said, shaking his head, "Now there is an appropriate memorial for such a guttah neshomah, good soul. And look, Mama. Look at all the little stones on top. Tovah doesn't lack visitors. " Florence, sit down. We will tell you Tovah's story. But first, I will explain about Jewish burial practices."

Innocently, I asked Papa, "Is that really necessary?"

Papa stared at me. "What do you mean, is it necessary? Narisha kopf, foolish head, would I tell you if it was not necessary? To understand the story, you must know our traditions. There is an even more important reason for you to know. Soon it will be di tsayt, the time, for you to bury Mama and me. So you must know the ways of our people, the burial ritual. Now sit and be quiet!"

I did as I was told.

Papa began. "Tahara, purification, is the first step in preparing a body for burial. Men prepare a man. Women prepare a woman. All must be done respectfully. The deceased is washed completely. At no time is the whole body exposed, from respect for the modesty of the deceased. Except for the part being washed, the rest of the body is covered with a white sheet. The body is never turned face down. That would be disrespectful. To wash the back, the body is rolled on its side. After being washed, the deceased is dressed in a white linen shroud. There are no buttons or, G-d forbid, zippers in a shroud. Instead it has ties knotted in the shape of the letter, shin.

"As I said, everything is done with all due respect. Gedenksha, you must remember, the soul is floating near the body while the body is prepared, listening, feeling. The soul only leaves the body at the burial.

"The people who prepare the bodies must be religious people, who recite prayers and psalms as they work. In most Jewish communities these people are organized into societies called Chevra Kadisha. Oh, and remember--the casket must be a plain pine box without nails. The casket is plain and simple since all are equal at the time of death.

"Flo, stop fidgeting. I am almost done..." There were three synagogues in Koshovato. The Big Synagogue was where der givirim, rich men, prayed. It was a big synagogue, but with a small congregation. Di veiber, the wives of der givirim wore expensive klayder, clothes, and shaytels, wigs. But this was Koshovato, so all these women, in their fancy outfits, were hidden behind a mitzea, separation curtain. When a member of the big synagogue, G-d forbid, died, his family hired a person to prepare and watch over the body.

The Old Synagogue was filled with people who had Yichus, standing. Everyone who belonged to the Old Synagogue claimed all the men in the family had been Rabbis or profoundly learned yeshiva students. As you would expect, the wives were the best cooks and most pious women in town. All the children were brilliant. When a member of the Old Synagogue, G-d forbid, died, the Chevra Kadisha took charge.

The third synagogue was in a simple building, where der oreman, poor men, der Schneiders, tailors, der stoylers, carpenters, der balegolim, wagon drivers, prayed with their families. The wives wore scarves, not wigs. Their clothes were not much better than rags.

"Now, Sonya, you tell her what happened between Tovah and Reisa," said Papa.

Mama jumped right in. "Okay—so Reisa, Boris' wife, died." If a woman died, it was the custom in the third synagogue for all the women to go to the ceramic urn and pull out a stone. The urn was filled with black and gray stones. Mixed in with those stones was one white stone. The woman who drew out the white stone prepared and guarded the body before burial.

This time Tovah drew the white stone. Everyone gasped. They all knew Tovah hated Reisa. Why? Tovah had accused Reisa of stealing her husband, Boris! Tovah looked around her wildly. Surely, someone would volunteer to prepare Reisa's body instead? No one spoke a word. In silence, the women disappeared, leaving Tovah alone with the body of the woman who had stolen her husband.

What could she do? She began to prepare the body. She tried to sing psalms as she worked, but when she opened her mouth, out flew her broyges gedenken, angry memories. "Only fourteen when I married Boris...so happy and proud! All the men said Boris was an up and comer, ambitious, with good ideas~a real man's man. And women also liked him because he was shaner, handsome, like a krasavitz, a prince...

"Married less than a year when I miscarried...my most vulnerable time... and you...you were older. Why didn't you take pity on me? Why did you steal my husband? The Angel of Death stole my baby and you. .you Bathsheba... you stole my Boris!"

To each question, each statement she added a kneip, pinch, or a frask, slap! Tovah lost all self-control. She forgot where she was and her duty to respect the helpless corpse.

"Before you married Boris,' she continued, "I begged you to give him back to me. You turned your head away. You snubbed me, you, with your hard heart-you robbed me of my unborn children! Reisa, you ruined my life! No one wanted Boris' leftovers!"

If anger had not blinded Tovah, she might have seen Reisa's neshomah, soul, flying above them in anguish. Finally, exhausted by her tirade, Tovah grew still. Her head began to nod above Reisa's covered body. The silence was broken by a second voice.

"Foolish woman! Your emotions have impaired your ability to think! I, Reisa, am not the villain in this story! The real villain was, and is, Boris!

"Boris never cared for you or me..he cared about Boris! He divorced you because you miscarried. He was afraid some men would think it was his fault you lost the baby-that they would question his virility. Boris believed a real man kept his wife always pregnant! that ten, fifteen children were proof of manliness. He never cared about his babies once they were born. That was women's work.

"You want to know how I seduced Boris? He raped me-he spied me working alone in a field and he raped me. I begged him to stop, he laughed. I threatened to tell my father and brothers he laughed some more. He told me I was a fool. If I told my menfolk, they would force him to marry me, to make me an honest woman. He promised that if I was pregnant, then he would marry me of his own free will. "

'Never!' I screamed.

Boris laughed. He said, You're so stubborn you would let your child be labelled a mamzer, a bastard? No, you'll stay quiet and be married to me, without scandal. And you'll thank me.'

"So it was done just as he wanted. And now I am dead and my babies, my poor children, are left with no one to love or defend them.

"As for you, Tovah, I will haunt you with nightmares for the evil frasks and kneips you gave me this day. They were all prohibited and you knew that. You promised to treat my body with respect. But you didn't."

Tovah began to sob.

"To earn forgiveness and end the bad dreams, you must leave Koshovato and go to America. There you will be far from Boris and you will have new, good dreams. In America you can dream of going to school—and you can go. You can better yourself. Then you will be able to help my children. Only then will I forgive you..."

They both heard the sounds of the women returning, to help Tovah move the body into the plain pine box. Neshomah put her finger to her lips. Tovah dried her eyes. The neshomah prepared to separate and fly much higher to a new place.

After the levaye, funeral, Tovah wrote to her brother, to her aunt and to her American cousins. She begged for a ship's carta, ticket, and financial help to settle in the Golden Land. Tovah's brother said, "I am an oreman, poor man, but if I save for six years I should be able to bring Tovah over." "She sounds desparate," said one cousin. "She can't wait six years," another put in. The aunt said, "My son, G-d bless him, is on his own; I can let his room to a boarder for extra money." Everyone promised to help. The aunt held the money.

Within one short year, Tovah was in America. She moved into her aunt's apartment and the boarder moved out. A couple of days later, Tovah started in the garment industry as a needle worker. At night, she went to school. In Koshovato, Tovah had only had two years of schooling: a little Yiddish, a little addition and subtraction... But in America Tovah learned to speak, read and write English. When she studied arithmetic she discovered a real gift for numbers! So she decided to become a book-keeper. Her aunt loved to hear Tovah talk book-keeping:"Debits, receipts, balances. Entries, inventory, audit. Invoice! So intelligent!"

What a party they threw the day Tovah passed her rigorous exams, quit the sweatshop production line, and took a job as a book-keeper in Mr. Kaufmann's unionized factory!

Now Tovah's aunt could pray for the day when Tovah would meet that special someone, and marry. Tovah was like a daughter to her, so of course she wished her everything. And what was everything? A good husband and children. The aunt knew nothing of Tovah's dream.

As Mr. Kaufmann's book-keeper, Tovah met all of the salesmen. Several of these men were interested in getting better acquainted with Tovah. She was an attractive woman, with an attractive job. To these men, Tovah confided her dream: she was saving money to bring Reisa's five children to America. Here, she would love them, care for them, and raise them as if they were her own. Each month she put nearly half her salary in a special savings account for the purpose.When the salesmen heard this, they became dershroken, frightened, and stopped courting her. Such a dream was noch erger, worse than, bad breath!

About the time Tovah rented her own flat, Mr. Kaufmann, the boss, started coming to work late and leaving early. While at work, Mr. Kaufmann seemed tsemisht, confused. Tovah and the foreman couldn't understand what was happening to Mr. Kaufmann. But they did realize, all too clearly, that one hundred families depended on Kaufmann's unionized factory for their living. So as Mr. Kaufmann worked less and less, Joe and Tovah took up the slack. They tried to keep the business running as smoothly as it did when Mr. Kaufmann was devoted to it.

One day, a few weeks after they had put their heads together in puzzlement, Joe and Tovah found Mr. Kaufmann slumped at his desk sobbing. There they learned the gantse geschichte, the whole story. Very suddenly, Mrs. Kaufmann had developed a terminal illness. The doctors could not save her. He cried, "I have no one and nothing. I want to die, also."

"You're wrong," Tovah answered firmly. "You have a big family depending on you."

"Who? Where? Where is this family?" he asked, wiping both eyes with the backs of his hands.

"Joe. Me. Every worker in this building. We depend on you. We also admire and love you because-as everyone in New York City knows-there is no fairer boss than Mr. Kaufmann. Everyone calls you a mensch, an ethical person- everyone! So be well and take care of us!"

In the following two weeks, Tovah and Mr. Kaufmann learned more about each other than they had in the two previous years. One day, over a glessele, glass of, tea Tovah told Mr. Kaufmann about Reisa's children back in Koshovato. "Already, I have saved half the money," Tovah said proudly. "So why not bring over the first two now?" he asked her. "The ones left behind," she answered, "will feel abandoned and forsaken. It would be like losing their mother again." Mr. Kaufmann thought for a while. Then he told Tovah, "I want to be a partner."

"Why should you help me, Mr. Kaufmann? You don't even know these people I'm describing," Tovah said.

"It's exciting. It makes me feel hopeful, like I have a reason to wake up. This is something worth living for!" he replied.

They studied each other carefully for a moment. Then Tovah said, "Okey-dokey. So we're partners. Thanks very much."

Mr. Kaufmann insisted on certain conditions. First, she must call him Ed, not Mr. Kaufmann. Second, she must not let the children travel alone. Instead, she must travel to Koshovato and bring them back herself. Third, she must take some extra cash with her, in case Boris needed a little, hmm, extra persuasion to let the children go.

So it was agreed.

When Tovah arrived in Koshovato, she went directly to the bubbe (grandma), with whom she had been corresponding. The two women sat and planned Tovah's next steps. The bubbe reminded Tovah that Boris had an enormous ego and responded best to flattery. Tovah recalled aloud that Boris had always had dreams of becoming a tsot, big, success. The bubbe laughed. "That still hasn't happened," she said. The two women built their plans around these two insights into Boris' character.. Tovah was so impatient to meet with him that she couldn't wait until the following morning. Instead, after dinner she dressed in her richest outfit and called on Boris and his third family.

Of course Boris was surprised to see Tovah, and even more surprised by her apparent wealth. Was this self-assured woman the skinny kid he had dumped?

The conversation began as these conversations always do: how was everyone's health? Good? Good. But Boris was too curious to keep this up for very long. He asked if Tovah had remarried. "No.J'm not married." "Well, then, where do you get all your money?" Boris was shocked to hear that she earned the money herself, as a book-keeper. Had he let a treasure escape when he divorced that little kid?

Now it was Tovah's turn to talk. She said, "Boris, you were so wonderful to me that I could never forget you! I had to come back to see you just once. The year we were married was the best in my life...I had to come back, to thank you. Words alone cannot tell you how I feel. Please, please let me buy you a horse and wagon. I need to be able to give you a little something to express my gratitude for the time we had together...You are so good."

Boris was delighted. He thought, I'm a givir, rich man! A man with two horses and two wagons is a big success. To Tovah he said, "You really shouldn't. But to make you happy, I'll accept the horse and wagon."

Now Tovah asked, "Can I do anything else~out of gratitude, as I said- to make your life and Mrs. Boris' life easier?" After a delicate pause, she added, "G-d be praised, to find such a good woman. You have four children of your own, yet you take care of Reisa's five, as well. It really is too much for such a delicate lady like yourself, even though I see how devoted you are... "If I took Reisa's five to America? Would that help? After all, it must be expensive, too, to feed and clothe them as beautifully as you do. Ach, Mrs. Boris, it's so much work. And yet, I know, I know...I am being a foolish woman. I know how you love them! If I took them to America who knows when you would see them again? "Forgive my narrishkeit, foolishness! Well, I must say goodbye. I am thinking of leaving soon, after I pay for your new horse and wagon."

Before she could get out of the door, Mr.and Mrs. Boris exchanged a deep glance. Boris had weighed the possibilities. He put his hand on Tovah's arm and explained why he had decided to let Tovah take Reisa's children. "I will miss them, but Life will be better for them in America. As soon as they go to work, they can send a little money to Koshovato, to their loving ■ old papa. It's a sacrifice, but as you yourself know, I am a man who puts others' welfare before his own."

The next morning, after purchasing a horse and wagon, Tovah hired a balegole, wagon-driver, to take her and the children to Kiev and the train West. In Kiev she bought the children new clothes, shoesand toys. She showered them with kindness. She told them stories about her mother Reisa and about the adventures awaiting them in America.

When their boat docked in New York harbor, Ed was there to greet them and help them through customs. This group did not travel steerage. Had they done so, they would have had to go through Ellis Island, where it took days, even weeks, to gain admission to the U.S. In a short time, they were on their way home in a big black taxicab with the pull-down seats.

The tall buildings awed the children. In Koshovato, even the syna- gogues were made of wood. Here the buildings were made of brick or stone. The cobblestone streets fascinated them. In Koshovato, the streets were dirt and mud. They laughed at the hats Americans wore. In Koshovato, the mern wore caps, the women babushkas, kerchiefs. They were surprised that Americans did notwear boots. Ed explained, "No mud...no boots."

Finally, they stopped in front of a brownstone. "Everybody out! This is your new home," said Ed.

Tovah put her hands on her hips. "Excuse me? This is not my flat.Whose house is it?"

Ed replied, "It is mine-partner. I went already to your flat, to prepare for your homecoming. I bought milk, bread, some flowers, but...Tovah, forgive me, but...your apartment looked much too small for six people. Here's my big empty house, all paid up, it costs nothing. I promise, Tovah, I won't interfere. They are your children. Do me a favor. Fill this big house with life and laughter. I am begging you."

What could Tovah do? She and the five children moved in.

When my father had reached this point I started to move on. Papa stopped me. "Where do you think you are going?" he boomed, impatiently.

"I thought the story was over. It's a regular fairy tale. All you have to say now is, 'They lived happily ever after.' So I'm walking."

Papa shook his head and muttered, "Ho, boy. Life should only be so gring, easy. As a matter of fact, their troubles had just begun."

Tovah and Ed had the best intentions, but about children they were clueless. Neither of them had been near children for more than an hour at a time. Even then, they were onlookers, not caregivers. They had no idea how noisy and needy these children would be! You know, teiehrel, dear one, G-d in His wisdom gives most people one child at a time. This way parents can build up their tolerance little by little~for the noise, the tricks, the work, the illnesses...

When Ed invited Tovah and the five children into that big house, he didn't realize that house would shrink. The children and their things were everywhere! Ed loved to read; now he found it nearly impossible to concentrate because of der tumul, the uproar. Even if no one else was in the room with Ed, the noise was there! The house became a circus, a balagan, Bedlam. If Ed tried to exert control, the oldest boy told him, "You're not my Papa. You can't tell me what to do."

It wasn't in Ed's nature to explode. Instead, he retreated from the library to his bedroom. Life was becoming intolerable for Tovah and Ed. At that critical moment, help arrived from the kitchen in the form of Mrs. Ella Kreizman, the cook Tovah had found after a careful search. Mrs. Kreizman demanded a meeting at nine o'clock in the evening on a Thursday.

Earlier, she had prepared and served the family brisket, carrot tsimmes, fruit compote... The woman could cook. Now they stood uneasily in her little empire, the kitchen. It was already spotless after the large and recent dinner. Mrs. Kreizman could also clean and organize the spaces around her.

She began politely. "Antshuldike mir, excuse me... I did not accept this position to work in a zoo with vilde chayes, wild animals. Either take control of these monsters--or I quit."

Tovah spread her hands, shrugged her shoulders, and raised her eyebrows in appeal. "But, Mrs. Kreizman. They had such a terrible childhood. We must make allowances and have pity, rachmones, on the little ones."

Mrs. Kreizman's response was a snort and a shrug. "Tell me, when you went to Europe to save these children, was it a part of your plan, perhaps, to ruin them? Maybe you look at me and see only your cook. But I know a thing or two besides recipes. Yes, I do! If you want children to grow and become menschen, I know you need to use your head, not just your heart."

Tovah tried to interrupt but Cook stopped her. "Tovah, you will show love when you learn to say no. These children are starving for rules, for chores. If you give everything umzist, free, then they feel you can also take away everything whenever you want. Trust me, they understand the need to earn."

Ed shouted, "I got it! Tovah, look how hard you worked when you came here. All your success? It belongs to you because you made it from your labor!"

Tovah thought for a moment. "When Boris left me," she said slowly, "I did nothing but cry. What I got from that was more tears. When I came to America, it's true, I worked very hard. Andl got much more from life. Never have I been so happy." Ed spoke again. "I run a union shop, a fair place. In a union shop people are happier and work harder. So it is not as if we must be mean. We need only to be fair and let the children earn their happiness, so they deserve this happiness." At this point Mrs. Kreizman said, "So, can I stay? Do we have a plan to follow?" Papa leaned back with a satisfied smile. He looked at me, clearly expecting me to say something.

"So?" I asked.

"Nu, then?" He beamed. "There is no 'then; Flo. That's it."

"What, no family law practice? Everything wasn't perfect from then on?"

"Not at all! Nothing was perfect! Things got a little better for a while. Then they got a little worse. And so on. Like Life. Everyone made it through. At least-okay, one did become a dentist. A couple, they could do nothing with. These became and remained complete schnoirers. The girls, thank G-d, married and had more American kids I guess...we lost touch. "But the important thing is~Tovah actually earned her forgiveness from Reisa. When I think about it, this seems to me a great miracle."