Lodz, 8 October 1924 My dear and devoted nephew, worthily named Sol Zissman, I received your dear letter, dated September 11th, on the second day of Rosh Hashana, and I am answering you today, the eve of Yom Kippur. I purposely waited several days before answering, because I wanted to gather more material. And so today, when everyone is busy hurrying to shlog kapores (make symbolic sacrifice), or going to the mikva (the ritual bath), or saying sliches (prayers of forgive- ness), or going to the cemetery to say El Mole Rachamim (the prayer for the dead), I selected as the time to sit down to answer your letter. Dear and devoted Sol, your last letter made a deep impres- sion on me, first of all because you are so insightful and intuitive and (because you can) sense a situation from afar. You wrote that you have a feeling that things with me are not exactly as they appear to be, that something is hidden in my heart, and that you would like to know what it is. Indeed, you have the right to know, and it is my duty to inform you of all the events (that befall me). My dear Sol, if I had had the honor of having you near me today, of being alone with you for even one hour, we could have opened our hearts to one another, or blessed one another. Perhaps both of us would have felt better. But, dear child, what you see in my letters, I also see in yours. I see that your heart is full and that your eyes are overflowing, that you are searching for something and you yourself don't know exactly what it is. Sometimes, in your yearning, you remind yourself of the blessings of yesteryear, of the blessings of your sainted mother. And whether you want to or not, you feel that your eyes are moist, that tears are flowing. My dear child, nothing in the world is worthy of tears, except when someone is, G-d forbid, orphaned at an early age, or when someone, G-d for- bid, lhas no luck. One has to be strong enough to get a grip on oneself if one is, G-d forbid, cursed with either of these two things. Dear Sol, there are two choices in these cases. Either one must become an apikoris (a heretic) and renounce everything, or one must be strong enough to withstand the suffering. I go to shul and pray. Indeed, I do everything according to the law. I plead, I cry, I scream, I fast, I punish myself, and I continually ask questions of the Almighty. "Why must the poor fast and not the rich? Why must the poor pray and not the rich? Why must the poor plead with You and not the rich? Why and why and, once again, why?" And in the end, whenever the opportunity arises to have a good time, to amuse oneself, one always looks to the rich. Why do you think Mr. Whoever-he-may-be is given the honor of opening the ark? Because he comes from a better family than I come from, G-d forbid? And why is someone else given Maf- tir Yoyne, (the honor or reading the scriptural portion on Yom Kippur), and not Eliezer Feivele's grandson? I am con- vinced that everything is business. We are left posing questions. The world has become entranced with money, from the highest to the lowest, from the rabbis to the thieves, from the merchants to the manufacturers, from the earth (all the way up) to the heavens. Lies reign supreme. If we too were worthy in the eyes of the Almighty, and if we too had luck, perhaps we would also be counted among these dis- tinguished men, and we would also occasionally be given the honor of opening the ark or of reading Maftir Yoyne. However, since we are among the unfortunate, we must suffer. I have found one remedy, dear child, and perhaps this remedy will also do you some good. Whenever I'm unhappy about something or when I'm suffering or hurt, I go out into the street, but not in the center of town. I go (instead) into the poor section, among the most unfortunate, and there G-d shows me what to look at--frightful and cruel things. For example, today I met an acquaintance of mine standing in the middle of the street holding two little children by the hand. I looked deeply into his eyes and knew immediately that he hadn't eaten in several days. What could I do? I had my last two gilden with me. I gave them to him. He ran home quickly and bought two loaves of bread--one for today and one for after Yom Kippur. You think, Shloymele, that we are badly off, G-d forbid? No! There are others who have it worse! One should not look only at the houses of the rich, where they have everything...milk and honey. One must look beneath oneself, to the poorest, in the damp cellars. Cast your eyes there, and you will remain content with your own lot. The same is true, dear child, of you. It was your fate to be an orphan, to lose your mother as a child. Yes, dear child, it is very bad without a mother, but you're not the only one, and you didn't kill your mother. You treated her as you should have. If you, as an independent person and a wise young man (feel the loss), how then should your sisters feel? They are young and don't even understand what it means to be an orphan, what it means to suffer. If I thought that your sainted mother could help you in some way, I would advise you to go to her grave and cry, or scream, or plead with her to do something for you. However, I don't believe that this can accomplish any more than giv- ing you an opportunity to unburden your heart. If it could (do more), then the poor, the hungry, the tormented, would not leave (the graveside) for a second. The main thing that I want to point out to you, dear Sol, is something that I learned from The Ethics of the Fathers: You didn't ask to be created; you didn't ask to be born; it is not up to you whether you will live or whether you will die. All this is the truth. Why don't we think about why we must live and ruin good food (by eating it), if no good ever comes of it? Does one live in order to eat, or does one eat in order to live? Can one profit from all that man creates for his benefit? Obviously not. But we are lead to believe that all of this is nothing, vanity, that the main thing is the world to come. What do you think? Will they let us partake of the shor habor (mythical ox to be eaten in the world to come), the leviathan (mythical fish to be eaten in the world to come), or the yayin meshumer (mythical, guarded wine to be drunk in the world to come)? Obviously, (these are) only for the rich. I pray to the Master of the Universe, if He is planning to give me something also, and if He wants me to continue liv- ing, let me enjoy the pleasures of this world just a little, like the rich. I would be willing to forgo the leviathan and the shor habor. I know for a fact that I wll never get to dip my (piece of) challa in the fish soup--just as I never get anything else. (This letter is incomplete.) All material Copyright 1995 by Marshall L. Zissman and Sol J. Zissman.