Lodz, 1 February 1925

My dear and devoted nephew, ("A groom is likened to a
king!") Shlomo Yaakov Zissman,

Today I received a letter from you in which you describe all
your present circumstances and also enlighten me about your
past, and your future. Dear Sol, I picture in my mind's eye
many things here as they appear to be with you; I mean by
this your plan to live with your future in-laws. I will not
write anything at this time about this subject, because I
understand very well that you find in your future in-laws'
home a home for yourself. They are your parents now, and
you are their child. I am certain that all will be well.
In a future letter, I will devote more time to this and
enlighten you. But now is not the time to talk about it.

My dear and precious Sol...you write me that your marriage
will take place on February 15, apparently a settled matter.
Although I have not yet received a wedding announcement from
you, I nonetheless write you today because I want to plan it
so that you will receive this letter exactly on your wedding
day.  You may ask, "What is it?  What does my uncle
want...to make me weep on my wedding day, like the old-time
badchen used to do?" So, my dear one, I write you neither
legend nor lie, but the exact truth about what caused me to
write as I do in reply to your letter, not waiting for a
wedding announcement.

I received your letter Saturday morning and read it through
the first time at the table. I then read it a second time.
Afterwards, Aunt Dina Raizl and her husband and children
came over. I reread the letter a third time; then everyone
left the house. My wife and children also left to visit her
parents. So I was left entirely alone, and I lay down for a
nap, taking your letter with me. Reading it again for the
fourth time, I became so absorbed in you and your letter
that I fell asleep.  It was still, peaceful and warm
indoors, and wet and damp outside. I slept and I dreamt a
dream. Yes, my dear Sol, this dream I won't forget so soon.
It was a dream I saw with my own eyes; everything that I saw
I retain in my memory. When I awoke my heart was heavy, a
cold sweat covered me and I felt faint. Being alone, I
couldn't recover, and I couldn't understand what had come
over me. Was it only a dream or had it been reality? Read
on and be astonished!

Having read through your letter about all the tumult going
on now in preparation for your wedding, the image presented
itself to me that I, your uncle, was also invited along with
the other guests (and why not, indeed?). I mustered all my
energies and journeyed forth--I don't remember the details

of the journey to convey them to you--whether with a visa or
without. I only know that I grabbed my shabbos suit and a
wedding gift and ran, taking one train, then another and a
third; then, finally, I'm in Chicago. I ask directions to
your address, 2954 (Lincoln Ave.), but I find the store
closed. I ask a second, a third passer-by, a tenth one.
"People! Rascals! I'm a stranger! Why won't you point out
where my nephew lives? His wedding is today!"

But no one pays any attention whatsoever; no one has any
compassion.  I see crowds of thousands of people rushing,
running, each one trying to surpass all the others, as I
stand and cry out, "Have pity on me. Take me to my nephew
who is getting married today." One person stops and asks
me, "Why is it so important for you to be at his wedding?"
I do not answer him a word, but merely point to my heart,
saying, "See, look in here."

To make a long story short...it is a winter's day, and it
starts getting dark.  I walk along and weep. My heart is
sad, when suddenly I hear music. Yes, perhaps this is the
place.  I come closer and listen carefully, and see that it
really is here. Yes, my heart trembles with joy. Now, any
minute, I will have the honor to see you and your beloved
before my eyes and be able to give you my blessing.  But I
wait an hour, two hours, and every minute more guests arrive
bedecked with flowers; the cars fly by like demons and none
of the guests gives me as much as a glance. I know each one
of them, but they don't know me; or else they do know me,
but don't want to recognize me because they're embarrassed
by a poor man--this is an old story. But I grow impatient;
too much time is passing. I send word into the hall to you,
with one of the people, saying, "Your Uncle Wolf is waiting
outside and wants to come in; he also has a kiddush cup for
a wedding present that he brought with him; he has come
unexpectedly, without a wedding invitation."

But I wait an hour, two hours, and I see nothing and hear
nothing.  I wander around.  I turn here and there like a
worm. I beg the guests, the doorman, saying, "Have mercy,
let me in to the simcha; this is, after all, my simcha, my
nephew, my...my...," and the tears choke me up so that I
remain mute.  I stand and wonder what, after all, should I
do now in order, at least, to set eyes upon my dear, beloved
nephew on the most important and interesting day of his
life? I look about me; perhaps I'll see an acquaintance or
a familiar person who might take me into the hall. As I
looked around, I saw a young woman of about 35 years of age,
with a black veil covering her face, and she suddenly
embraced me and began kissing me and hugging me.

"Wolf," she said, "you are here, too?"
9

9

"Yes, of course, " I said.

I look closely at her face and discover that I have the
honor of speaking to my sainted sister, Sarah. Yes, that's
how it was. Both of us weeping, good and proper.

"Why aren't you inside, in the hall?" she asks me.

I reply, "The poor are considered as dead."

I stand and look at her, your sainted mother, my still-
unforgotten devoted sister, and notice that she is wiping
her eyes.

And she says, "Never would I have imagined, after so much
anguish, till I gave him birth, till I raised him, till I
brought him to America...and now, to have to stand apart.
And do you think, my brother, that I can rest peacefully in
my grave? I worked very hard for the orphans I left behind.
Especially did I have my heart and soul set on my one and
only son, Shloyme, marrying his Esther Malke, whose name was
called out in heaven as his mate for a match made in
heaven."

"And why did you come here?" I asked her.

"In order to give my son my blessing before the chupa...
And you?"

"The same."

"But what comes out of it? They won't let us in.  If they
don't admit me as the mother, they certainly won't let you
in as an uncle."

"But you're dead and I'm alive, " I say.

"But my spirit is alive," was her answer.

She takes me by the hand, leads me in through a back door,
and says to me, "Observe everything, but say nothing whatso-
ever."

I am inside; the hall is lit up, the music sounds, the
guests enjoy themselves.  I see you, my child, standing
under a canopy, the cantor reciting the El Mole Rachamim
memorial prayer, and with the words "may she rest in peace"
your sainted mother gives you her blessing and...disappears.

Seeing that my sister disappeared, I became confused and
didn't know what to do. I couldn't keep my eyes from your
handsome appearance; you looked so princely at that moment.
I didn't speak to you at all because I stood in a corner

noting everything. When the ceremony ended, I remembered
that I had not had the chance to talk to my sister about her
children and so on. I went out hurriedly after her, looking
in the direction she went, but she was gone....

Confused, I went back into the hall to convey my blessings
to you.  I still remember my benediction to you. In the
Talmud Berachos there is a passage about a sage who once saw
(and benefitted from) a beautiful tree. Wanting to bless
the tree, he said these words to the tree:  "O tree, what
can I wish you? Your fruit is sweet, your branches wide-
spread, you couldn't be more beautiful. So, I will wish you
this--"May it be G-d's will that what issues from you will
take after you."

Just about at these words there came a knock at the door,
and I awoke. Upon awakening, I felt very weak and covered
with sweat. I felt so tired and faint...as though I had
been on a distant journey, or perhaps at a wedding! Yes, it
was merely a dream, but this dream I will long remember. So
deeply is it engraved in my memory that I will not forget it
soon.

Now, my dear child, I sit and transcribe for you the entire
dream and plan it so that my letter will reach you on your
wedding day. And since it is a tradition that the groom
should weep a bit in remembering his...and since you won't
have a badchen there to make you cry, then let this letter
of mine served instead.  On this day you should also
remember your sainted mother who didn't have the privilege
of taking part in your simcha, but was contented with having
her spirit appear to me and conveyed her blessing to me in
order for me to send the same to you today.

My dear and devoted (nephew), I see the dream is now turning
to reality; your marriage is now coming about, and I don't
have the privilege to be present at your wedding.  I have
somehow sinned, like your mother. I feel pained about this,
but I feel sure that you are sorry and regret the fact that
those closest to you on your mother's side of the family are
absent.

So, my dear Sol, take everything as is, perhaps it must be
this way.  Be of good cheer and joyful this day; it is a
fascinating day for you--the ceremony, the incidentals, and
the music are all minor. The important thing is that your
future should be better than your past. You've been through
enough till now.  From this day on, a new era begins for
you; you're embarking on a new world; you're absolved of all
sins and errors. Till now you've been called ish or enosh,
but from this day on you're called gever, a full-fledged
man.  Until a man marries and takes unto himself his life's
partner, he may be considered a nomad who lacks a foundation

under his feet, has no proper home, food or anything. Then,
with time, when one weds, certainly if he weds happily, he
acquires all of these, a foundation, a home, and all else.
Therefore, my dear child, feel fortunate at this moment.

I would want to express a blessing fitting for your personal
traits.  You are so refined and good, so intelligent and
gifted, I feel small and inept in comparison and find it
difficult to find an expression with which to bless you on
this day. Yes, each one here has his own idea of wedding
expressions. My little daughter, for instance, has bought a
little token to send to you; another wants to do the same.
My wife also wants to express her wishes to you; in fact she
wants to sew something for you in satin but she doesn't yet
know exactly what, since not everything is suitable. Even
my little son also cries that he want to send you a wedding
wish.  In short, everyone is set and satisfied. Only I
alone am in doubt because as your loving uncle I cannot be
with you at your wedding.

And not able to find and buy a suitable wedding greeting for
you, I have the honor to wish you in this simple letter that
all the years of your life will be vital, and may the life's
path you both embark on together be surrounded by flowers.
Joyfully may you live together, may peace reign between you,
and may your home be a model of excellence for others. What
else shall I wish, my dear one? I wish that your wife will
sweeten your life and in all things be a good wife to you.
But you, yourself, must also remember to try with all your
might to be a good and obedient husband...because woman is a
delicate creature, weaker, and you must always keep this in
mind.  Above all, understanding and love and faithfulness
must prevail between you.  Don't let it annoy you, my
beloved Sol, that I teach you how to conduct yourself in
your personal life. It's possible that in worldly things
you are more experienced than I am, but the people of the
world I know better than you.  We will have occasion to
correspond about this topic in a future letter.

Hoping this writing finds you and your beloved and near ones
well, I close with greetings to you, to your worthy bride
and respected in-laws, your sisters and father and family.
Please write in detail how everything looked, and whether
you were invited to the wedding, and if you went, how you
enjoyed yourself, and whether your father and his wife
attended your wedding and how he acted as a property owner.
In a word, Sol, I want to know and have a right to know
everything, and please don't spare the paper. And if your
wife objects to your writing so much, then write me while
she is asleep; I do the same.

My wife and children send you hearty regards and wish you a
happy future.  May your path be flower-strewn. My mother,

your devoted grandmother, sends regards to you and all your
dear ones.  The entire family, sisters, brothers-in-law,
send regards to you; they will surely write you a letter.
Sol, why don't you send a telegram? True, it won't be of
practical use, but neither will it hurt.... But let it be
as you yourself wish and see fit. Please answer both my
letters soon--one which is on the way and this one.

        Most respectfully,

        Wolf Lewkowicz





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