Lodz, 6 January 1931

My beloved and precious brother, as well as nephew, with 

 your worthy name, Sol Zissman!!!

This week, I received a letter of yours, dated December 13,
1930.  I also owe you an answer to an earlier letter that I
received five weeks ago.  Dear and devoted Sol, you will think
to yourself there, "For some reason my uncle has written almost
nothing to me recently.  What are the reasons for this???"

In reality, dear brother, I would also prefer not to write this
letter to you when I  begin to think about why it is that I
should always cause my most devoted brother pain and suffering
with my letters.  Why, my devoted one, shouldn't you have the
honor to receive a cheerful letter from your uncle once in a
while?  Were you really created, Sol, to share in my suffering
and not in my joy?  Yet, the two of us must feel so close to,
and intimate with, each other because we have no one to whom we
can unburden ourselves.  Willingly or not, when our hearts are
heavy, we write a letter.  However, when we write, we sit and we
think to ourselves, "Why pour out your bitter heart to your
closest and most devoted one?  What do you want from him?  How
can he help you?  And hasn't he already helped you enough?" 
What's important is whether the help can be substantial, help
that will be effective.  

And when one thinks along this line, one comes to the conclusion
that a person still has the stuff of humanity in him.  One must
not demean himself, even though one is embarrassed enough as it
is.  One should not humiliate himself, even though it's
humiliating enough as it is.  At the same time, devoted brother,
I am confident of your fidelity to me and am certain that each
time you wanted to help me with all your power.  For example,
whenever you sent your uncle a check for $10 or $15 or $25, I
was always convinced that you wanted nothing else but to raise
me up so that I would be able to stand on my own feet, more or
less. 

Unfortunately, devoted Sol, you never knew how serious your
uncle's "illness" is, so that your help was insufficient to
restore me to good health.  All that you were able to accomplish
with your generosity was to prevent me from "dying," although no
one, other than I, is capable of appraising the value of
everything that you have done for me.  Yet, dear and devoted
Sol, each time that I begin to write a letter to you my hand
trembles, and I utter a mournful sigh, and I think to myself,
"G-d, inspire me with a state of mind so that I can express
myself in a letter to my devoted nephew with these words, ' I am
happy, and hope to hear the same from you, thank G-d.'"  

Unfortunately, devoted Sol, the time has not yet come for me to
be happy.  And when I receive a letter from you written, with a
bit of humor, that you don't feel bad, although not among those
who are successful, but also not among those, chas v'cholilah,
who are unsuccessful, your letter gives me so much encouragement
that perhaps there will yet come a time when I will recapture
the old sense of humor that I had twenty or twenty-five years
ago.  

At present, devoted Sol, whether I want to or not, I must once
again write an unpleasant letter to you, and I beg you, this
time, not to show my letter to your wife, even though I ask
nothing of you now because I know very well that there is
currently a crisis in America.  Furthermore, I have already
accustomed myself to suffering and, when one is used to it, one
thinks that this is the way it is supposed to be.  

I have gone through a great deal during the last six weeks,
devoted Sol.  That is, on December 1, 1930, I lost my job
completely.  Although I only worked three days a week and earned
$2.00 to $2.50 a week, I was satisfied and content.  What
happened was that the factory closed abruptly.  

As if it were not enough that I'm not earning a cent, that
outside it's winter and inside we are freezing, suddenly my
Rifkele fell ill, seriously ill...and since I am a father who
has already been "burned" once, I rushed to a doctor
immediately, and the doctor said that I should go away with her
somewhere for fresh air as soon as possible.  You can imagine my
misery, Sol.  I had nothing in my house, except tears.  In
short, my wife and I cried ourselves out.  However, I realized
that crying would not help my child in any way.  I began to seek
out assistance and to provide preliminary medical aid for my
child.  To be brief, not having any money or any resources, I
proposed to my sister in Opoczno that I send my Rifkele to her
even though there are no first class accommodations there, but
it's certainly better than what I have...  Five weeks ago, Aunt
Malke took Rifkele to Opoczno, and she has been there for five
weeks.  I can't write that she is fully recovered but, thank
G-d, she is much better.  She has better nourishment there than
at home, and the air is better than it is in Lodz...

Now, I can go on to write, devoted Sol, that I have not had any
work up to now and that next week, i.e., January 15, I will
begin to work, although not for a full week but for two or three
days a week.  

Now, devoted Sol, you will know why I delayed and didn't want to
write to you.  Quite simply (it was) because I didn't have
anything pleasant to convey, and I didn't want to tell you about
anything unpleasant.

Further, dear brother, what else shall I write to you?  The
newspapers make you quite familiar with the situation in Poland.
 No matter how much the newspapers write, they are not able to
describe the poverty in Poland as it really is.  If there were
somewhere to immigrate to now, 80% of the Jews in Poland would
leave.  There are shortages all across Poland, but particularly
in Lodz...

I read a great deal in the newspapers about the crisis in
America in general.  There has to be a complete change in the
world and, at last, the world will have to look about (and
recognize) that life was not created for just a few people, but
for all humanity.  In Europe, the people cry out for conditions
to get worse, just as they are in Russia, so that a war will
break out again and (cause) a sweeping change throughout the
world...but, in any event, we common folks won't have any
benefit from it.  In the final analysis, we're more likely to
lose than to win.

I also read in the newspapers that Chicago is preparing a
300-year (sic) anniversary celebration for 1933 in honor of its
establishment and that it will be the largest and most beautiful
World's Fair.  The newspapers write that as many as 100 million
people will visit the Fair.  How much it will cost is not known.
 Some say that it will be quite inexpensive, starting at a price
of $60 there and back for a European.  Reading about it, Sol,
one is immediately tempted to give some thought to it, but I
assume that you there must be better informed as to how much it
will cost and who will have the opportunity to attend the Fair. 
In any event, if you and your second hand furniture don't
participate in the Fair, at least see to it that you take
advantage of the opportunity and sell your furniture in the
hotels that will be built to accommodate the 100 million
tourists.  See to it that no furniture dealer other than you
will make a cent.  You should, at least, have a profit of $1 for
every tourist.  In this way, you'll have approximately
$1,000,000.  Pardon me, I calculated incorrectly.  I believe it
comes out to $100,000,000.  Well, why are you asleep, Shloyme???

But enough nonsense about millions.  Write me instead about how
you are feeling and how your worthy wife is and whether she is
well.  I believe the fifth anniversary of your wedding will take
place next month.  It's possible that I won't have the
opportunity at that time to extend my wishes to you, so on the
occasion of your fifth wedding anniversary I wish you and your
worthy wife and dear son that I be deemed worthy of celebrating
your tenth wedding anniversary in a happy frame of mind.  

Also, as to your writing, Sol, that you are rearing your son as
a nationalistic Jew and strictly, it pleases me greatly to see
you and your son as nationalistic Jews; however nothing is good
if it's too strict.  Furthermore, your son does not require a
strict upbringing at this point; he's still too young to
understand what is permitted and what is forbidden.  A child of
this age requires, in particular, freedom of action and
especially a gentle, liberal rearing.

Dear Sol, I will end this letter soon, and I haven't mentioned
the most important thing that I wanted to write about to you.  I
really don't know how to begin to write about it.  I don't know
what aspect to begin with.  You know very well, Sol, that there
was a war and that tens of thousands of packages of clothing and
other items came from America for people in need, and I never
found it necessary to write to you that you should also send me
a package of clothing once in a while.  The reason was quite
simple.  I always considered it the basest of the base.  I never
considered myself so reduced that I would need to beg for a used
suit or an old dress, and it's not so easy for me now, devoted
Sol, to write to you about this.  It's merely that, having no
alternative, I appeal to you...in fact directly to you, i.e., I
mean that my name should not be compromised or disgraced as far
as your wife and your family there are concerned...I would ask
you if you have the wherewithal, that is if you have there some
old clothing, e.g., such as a suit for me, a dress or coat for
my wife, anything for the children that can be altered, because
it's eight years since we had the opportunity to clothe
ourselves decently, and if one goes out anywhere in torn
clothing, one is marked as a pauper, a poor devil, etc.  So,
Sol, after the sort of difficult winter that we are experiencing
here in which we are not earning enough to stay alive, I don't
feel, and have no anticipation that, I will be able to pay for
clothing for ourselves...  In winter, we sit at home.  However,
in summer one wants to go outside.

In any event, dear Sol, however you interpret my writing to you
for clothing, it is a daring step for me, and I want you to
think about it seriously and, in so far as it is possible, not
to compromise me there among your relatives because Americans
may think, "You see, when the Poles see that Americans have no
more money to send, they'll settle for old clothing."

So, I end my letter with heartfelt regards for you, for your
wife and dear son from me, from Aunt Malke and from our Rifkele
and Joseph.  Regards for Ruchele, Bryndl and family, and for the
whole family.  Please answer promptly.  With respect, 

		Your uncle,

		Wolf Lewkowicz    


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