Opoczno, 12 September 1926

To my beloved and esteemed brother and nephew and his
   beloved and esteemed wife, E. Zissman,

Your ten page letter of August 20 I received on the second
day of Rosh Hashana, and I will attempt to describe the
nature of the circumstances in which your letter found me!!!

It is Rosh Hashana in Opoczno.  I am attending services among
the Alexanderer Hasidim.  Suddenly I have become a Hasid.  I
had left my skull cap in Lodz.  I came up with a hat and a
long coat in order to deceive the Master of the Universe..and
I am a Hasid.  The synagogue is in the same building as my
brother-in-law, Lazer.  So it is convenient to attend
services, and I begin to pray.  You must understand, Shloyme,
that your uncle also prays throughout the year, but it is not
the same as Rosh Hashana; first, I understand the prayers;
second, I have more time than on a weekday; third, on Rosh
Hashana, I make a balance sheet, an accounting of the soul
for myself, what I accomplished and what I plan to accomplish
in the future.

In a word, I cover my head with the prayer shawl and pray in
earnest, word by word.  I come to "Out of the depths, I call
you..." and the well of tears immediately opens.  The cantor
is standing and reciting with me, word for word.  I feel that
he is drilling into my heart with a drill, for example, at
"On Rosh Hashana it is inscribed and on Yom Kippur it is
sealed, how many shall leave this world and how many shall be
born, who will live and who will die..."  And then at "You
remember the deeds of the world...," he enumerates for me how
everyone is judged, "...which nation shall be at war and
which at peace..."  And my mind is racing; I break out in a
sweat; I constantly wipe away the tears from my eyes.  And I
think to myself: "Master of the Universe, so many people are
able to make a living in the world, and I alone am not able
to???"  And one thought after another races through my mind:
how many needs, how many crises, how many critical moments
have had to be borne and endured.  Yes, Shloyme, one has to
be strong to remember all of this and to make a presentation
of it to the Court on High.  This last year, 5686, was a
difficult year for me; it is painful to remember.

And engaged in this way with my prayers and my pleas, I think
to myself, "And who came forward on my behalf in my most
critical moments, who was the first to respond to my call, if
not you, my devoted Sol?"  I do not know what compelled you
to act in this way, my tearful letters or your kind-
heartedness, or merely the fact that you are a mensch.
Perhaps it was decided in heaven that you should be my
deliverer.  And you are not out of my mind for one minute,

for one second.  I am praying for you just as I am praying
for myself, "Our Father, our King, inscribe us in the book of
happy life.  Our Father, our King, inscribe us in the book of
maintenance and sustenance..."  I exert all my strength and
pray like a small child, "Our Father, our King, remember your
mercy and withhold your rage and avoid problems, sword and
hunger..."  At that moment, I heard the mailman shout
"Chmielnicki."  I was, as it were, confused.  Right away, I
thought that it is certainly a letter for me from my devoted
and beloved one.  The letter arrived just as if it were a
guest who is awaited.  He is talked about, preparations are
made to receive him.  Believe me, Sol, that not one second
passed during the two-day holiday that I didn't have you in
mind, and suddenly your letter was here.  Yes, it is easy to
say "a letter."  This was a unique letter.  Your writing
stirred me like an electric shock and, reading your letter, I
and my sister, as well as all the others who were present,
wept profusely.  Even though all your letters are written
in a thoroughly sensible way, with wisdom, I recognize your
feeling of loneliness in this last letter of yours.  It
pulls you, it draws you to seek in the tombstone of your
mother, may she rest in peace, a mother, a consoler.  Yes, my
devoted child, we empathize with you children.  Too soon did
your mother leave you to G-d's responsibility; too soon did
she find a resting place without assuring you children of a
home, of a place to be, etc.  Is anyone in a better position
to assess your tragedy than I?...

The end of this letter is missing, except for this
postscript:

I am enclosing a newspaper article for you to see how highly
valued a pock-marked groom is.  You can imagine how expensive
grooms are in Poland...


All material Copyright 1995 by Marshall L. Zissman and Sol J. Zissman.