Opoczno,  20 July 1927

To my dear, devoted brother, as well as nephew, and niece with
your

   worthy names, Sol and Esther Zissman,

I am now answering two of your letters, one of June 5 with which
there was enclosed a small picture of Ruchele and the second
letter of June 20 with which was enclosed a check for $10.

I sit now and reflect upon what you wrote, and I think to
myself, "If (only) I had you here, my devoted brother, close to
me so that I would be able to express and convey my feelings." 
It seems to me that no matter how much we write and seek to
communicate through letters...but, really, if I had you here
every day, every hour, I would have a sea of events to relate to
you.  What do you think, Sol, are we capable of conveying all
the details and  minor matters by writing letters?  Furthermore,
have we completed all of our business affairs so that we can
concentrate on private matters? 

I believe you that when you write a short letter you don't mean,
chas v'cholilah, to cause your uncle pain because who can
understand better than I understand you?  On the one hand I
think, "So, it's a short letter, but with abundant meaning." 
Every word a pearl, every letter a diamond.  However, devoted
child, don't you know that every person who sees pearls and
diamonds can't have enough and would like to have even more? 
It's exactly the same with me.  When I receive a letter from
someone else, it's boring  for me to read it because the words
don't hang together.  On the other hand, when I receive a letter
from you, I don't weary of reading it for the tenth time.  "So,"
you will ask, "why don't you answer immediately if you value my
letters so much?"  So, I write you that everything is
responsible.  The business that we tend and want to do...but we
want to and someone else does it.  But, in any event, one's mind
is occupied with thinking, planning, and so on.  And when it
comes to writing a letter to an uncle or to a nephew, one's mind
is so weary that one doesn't know what to write first.  One gets
nervous, writes everything in an abbreviated fashion.

First of all, dear Sol, I want to thank you for Ruchele's
picture that you enclosed for me.  Permit me to express an
opinion concerning my dear sister's daughter who is as dear to
me as my own child.  I look at her picture and think about those
other times, 16 or 18 years ago, when the same Ruchele was still
a child.  She already suffered at that time; she had a terrible
cough; a brooder; solemn; a victim; taking things as they came. 
She didn't have the proper care; she didn't have appropriate
nourishment; she didn't go away for fresh air as children do
today.  And, perhaps, all of this had an effect on the state of
her health.  Admittedly, Sol, you endured enough from your dear
sister because I know very well that you offered your life and
well being in order to restore her to health.  Nevertheless, I
read plainly from her appearance that I see in my beloved
sister's daughter the same unwell person as earlier. 
Brooding-solemn-worried, like a lonely forsaken orphan who is in
need of a bit of fresh air...and a little sunshine...           

As to your writing to me in your last letter that Ruchele is to
become a nurse's assistant in a hospital, I wonder whether this
will have an effect on her health.  It may have such an effect
on her that she will always be under medical supervision.  In
any event, I hope to hear good reports that she is completely
recovered, and may G-d grant that I hear better reports of her
than I do of her sister, Bryndl...

Dear and  devoted Sol, in your last letter of June 20, four full
pages deal with Bryndl and your new brother-in-law...you don't
forget to tell me that you are to become, or perhaps you already
are, an uncle...  Another person in my place would glide over
this matter and not notice what you write.  However, since you
know that I weigh and measure your words, so I must now, in this
circumstance, pause and make a comment...  

Perhaps you remember, Sol, two or three years ago when we
corresponded and took stock of my wife's brothers, Hertzke,
Berish, and so on.  At that time, I asked you not to discuss
them any more and not to write about them.  This is a part of my
nature.  When I encounter a person who is worthy of being called
a mensch, I don't tire of talking with him three days and three
nights without interruption because I understand that at least I
will get some enjoyment from the other person, some benefit,
some knowledge.  To the contrary, if I encounter a person who is
not a mensch...I recognize it within fifteen minutes, and he
bores me.  The other fellow talks and chatters, and I don't pay
any attention.  

Don't think, Sol, that I don't have pain because of your sister,
Bryndl, and her husband, even though you may ask, "Why do you
care, Wolf, you fool in Opoczno, what one may do here in
Chicago???"  But, my devoted one, just as you are hurt there by
the treatment,  the attitude of your new brother-in-law, just as
you have so much pain that you had to unburden yourself to your
uncle so that it would not aggravate and weigh upon you so, (I
too am pained).  And, really, if it happened to some other
brother wouldn't he say, "Hit your head on a pillow.  Get off my
back.  As you make your bed, so shall you lie in it?"  I
recognize that you both are far from having a good relationship.
 And as to your brother-in-law who stretched out for someone to
give him something, i.e., for someone who must give him
something, he needs heavenly miracles.   Such a person has no
confidence in his own ability.  It is not my aim to pity Bryndl
for not selecting an appropriate match as her life's partner,
because it may be as you yourself write that he may be the best
of husbands but worthless as to others.  

In any event, dear and devoted Sol, you certainly took a step in
the right direction by giving your brother-in-law the furniture
because, as you write, he might work for many more years and not
set up a household.  And if a man hasn't put a household in
order which attracts him, he looks for other places in the world
to spend his money.  Let's hope, dear Sol, that your sister and
brother-in-law will recognize that they made a mistake in the
way they treated you.  It's possible that, even though their
understanding may be a bit tardy, they will later come to
recognize the error that they committed and will perhaps correct
it in some way...  					                                        

It seems to me, dear Sol, that I have already said too much
about my sister's daughter, Bryndl, and her husband.  It's
possible that I would have passed over it without making a
remark in another set of circumstances, if  your mother, may she
rest in peace, were still living, if your father were not
estranged before the children were self sufficient.  However,
given the situation as it is, it hurts me; it hurts me a great
deal.  You Americans may be greatly amused by my pain, but I
would really like to hear better reports about a daughter of my
sister.  And I ask you, my devoted one, to be cooperative; don't
show my letter to your wife, to your in-laws, or to anyone else
other than your sister, Ruchele.  Further, no one should know of
my letter.  I hope in time to receive better reports from you
about yourself and your whole family.

Now, as far as my sister is concerned, I can tell you that I
went to the doctor with her on Saturday.  The doctor improved,
but up to now she has not.  Lazer's side, thank G-d, feels
better.  He's working.  Write a letter sometimes to Lazer and to
Aunt Estherl even though they don't write to you; the answer is
that when I write they feel justified.  Further, if you want to
know what's going on in Opoczno, my sister says that you have no
choice other than to come over here with your wife for three
months.  We'll have a chance to talk about all the details
because she doesn't have the patience to write a letter.  She
reads your letters eagerly, and shows them to all her customers.

Now, my devoted one, I will make clear what's going on with me
although I write you in every letter how things look and,
really, I would like to inform you of something joyful, of
something good.  As you know, we are ending our season this
month, i.e., from the days before Passover until August 1, we
have what is called Pszednowek, i.e., all the old grain is sold
and then new grain comes to market.  Last year was an
exceptionally expensive year for the price of grain.  So, e.g.,
we paid up to $7 for 100 kilograms of corn and $7.70 for wheat. 
This year it doesn't look like it will be cheaper because the
corn crop was not successful; on the other hand, wheat was
better.  Harvesting has begun here.  The weather is not
exceptionally nice...just so-so. 

We have two carloads of corn on the way to us.  G-d knows
whether we will get it too late.  If we get it too late, it will
be like the poor man who came to a tycoon for a wedding.  He was
starving.  Naturally, he attacked the food, and he became ill. 
Later he threw up all of it.  We may also throw up what we "ate"
six weeks ago...  Later, when the two carloads of corn arrive,
we will shut down the mill for four weeks because we have to do
some refurbishing.  Then I will go home for eight or ten days. 
I receive letters from home that Aunt Malke, my daughter,
Balcia, and Joseph are alright.  They send you and your wife
heartfelt regards.  Rivkele is still away for the summer.  I had
a letter from her that she was feeling better.   In  spite of
the fact that she was sick all winter, lying in bed, not going
to school, she nevertheless was successful in completing the 5th
grade of grammar school.  She sends her heartfelt regards to
you, your wife and sisters.  In time, she will write you a
letter.  

Dear and devoted Sol, I don't know what to say to you about the
$10.  If I thank you, you will send again.  If I don't thank
you, it doesn't make sense.  So, Sol, I don't know what
compelled you recently to send me the $10 because in my recent
letter I wrote you clearly that, thank G-d, recently I am able
to fend for myself as far as $10 is concerned.  You know, Sol,
that as long as a business is going, whether you're making money
or not, you're able in any event to get along.  It's the same
with me.  Believe me, Sol, that I don't know what the balance
sheet looks like recently.  I also don't see the capital because
it's floating around in the air among bakers, businessmen, et
al.  I am only concerned with whether there's enough to live on
and trying to pull a living out of it.  I can spend ten years
here and have nothing at the end except trouble...  But I don't
think that I'll go hungry.  Therefore, it would be quite
improper for me if I were to request you to send me anything. 
If I knew that you would interpret my letter in a way that would
cause you to send $10, I wouldn't have written to you at all,
because you have helped me enough.  And thanks to you and thanks
to your money, I was able to enter this business.  Your capital
is working, and I am living from it.  So, I ask you, my devoted
and beloved one, perhaps you do yourself harm there when you
send me a check sometimes.  So, I thank you very much because I
am not one of those who receives a letter from America and whose
only thought is whether a check was enclosed with the letter.  I
am too familiar with your conduct, with your behavior towards
me.  I ask of G-d only that he give me the strength to see you
one day again before my own eyes and to express my feelings to
you.

So, I send regards to you and your worthy wife, in-laws, and so
on.  Write me about how your business is going.

			With respect,

			Wolf Lewkowicz

Everyone, without exception, sends best regards to you and your
family.                                                         


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