Lodz, 6 January 1936 To my dear and devoted brother, as well as nephew, and niece, S. Zissman, I received your letter several days ago. You show all of your anger toward Hitler in your writing...your whole letter is devoted only to politics. It appears that it causes you pain when a kinsman of yours is being hit. So, if you standing from afar and only hearing about a kinsman of yours being hit are caused pain...what are we to say when we see with our own eyes the beating, the killing, the robbing, and so on? The government is powerless against the hooligans who spy and lie in wait for everything the Jews possess. A sort of epidemic has spread in the world. The Jew is hated everywhere. They want to kill him and expel him. However, the Jew is sufficiently strong and steadfast (for) "...in all ages they rise up against us to destroy us; and the Holy One, blessed be He, rescues us from their hands." Further, Sol, as to your writing that your new undertaking brings you $40 a week without hard work, I am more or less satisfied. You need only see to it that the capital that you invested in your new business should not be diminished, i.e., that the $1,500 that you invested in the business should always remain intact. You have to watch that from time to time, particularly in the summertime because no restaurant is as profitable in summertime as in wintertime. However, I think that you are no longer a child and know what to do yourself in order to secure your hard-earned capital! Most importantly, Sol, you wrote me that you will make a balance twice a year and determine how the business is doing. The current two months, i.e., from the new year to March should be the best time for a restaurant because it's the pre-Lent festival season. And what's going on with your furniture business? You must not ignore it completely because, thanks to your furniture business, you accumulated your first few dollars. I ask you to write me, as you do every year, your profit and loss statement for the year of 1936. Also write me how you are feeling and how business is, as well as what's new with your sisters, parents, et al. Now, you are surely anxious to hear something about me. So, I myself don't know what to write to you. As you know, Sol, from my previous letters, I continue to suffer from the headaches... However, Sol, I think that I will have to become accustomed to my headaches the same way that I accustomed myself to all of my troubles... Every time that I write a letter to you, I think to myself that I won't write anything about my problems, about my suffering, because, first of all, you can't help me. Secondly, you don't merit my always writing tearful and whining letters. I often think how lucky I would be, Sol, if I were able to send you, surprise you with, good news, e.g., that I won the lottery...even though I never play it...that my family and I are well, that I have work and live happily and contentedly. Unfortunately, it's a pity that I can't write you any of this. And why write you the truth and cause you pain when, in any event, I am not helped. So, my devoted one, I write you that from time to time it becomes so stressful, one feels so wretched and alone, without a friend, without a relative, that a letter to you eases my suffering for a brief time because I feel somewhat relieved for the moment when I unburden myself to my only devoted brother and nephew. So, for example, it's now after the new year, when every person makes more or less an accounting of the soul, a sort of balance sheet, although my balance sheet is embarrassing to reveal, because I am ashamed of it myself. It is, thanks to G-d, already 1936; I am, thanks to G-d, fifty years old. It figures that I have already packed away behind me 2/3 of the years (granted me)... Now, the question is: What have I accomplished? What have I attained? Was it worth going through the torment? Did the whole thing pay...? Now then, if at least I weren't perceptive, if at least I weren't foresighted, if at least I did not shudder at the thought of the future...everything would just go along... However, dear Sol, that the past was bad doesn't bother me, that the present is pathetic is not within my control because I am powerless...but you see, Sol, that I am stuck in the midst of the climb up the mountain, like a horse. The fact that I can't pull the weight behind me and am stuck fast irritates me... It would be nice to make the remaining few years go faster, but how does one make them go faster, and better, when the foundation beneath me becomes weaker from day to day? I feel that my feet are wobbling under me standing on such a weak foundation. Furthermore, I wonder what sort of value a weak person such as I has among so many millions of powerful people who are always intent on getting rid of the weak? I am already too old to get a job anywhere, and the place where I have been working up to now is going broke. One is no longer able to earn $2 a week there. They have lost a lot of money since the owner died. In a word, Sol, I stand now before a new attack. Believe me, it's no wonder that I have headaches and have problems with my head. I am constantly thinking, and can't come up with anything because I have been completely out of business. It's five years already since I've done any business. Besides, I have no money for business. And if I were to have money, no business can be successful in Poland these days due to the boycott... I have even thought of leaving, perhaps, for the Land of Israel. But how? With what means? With which money? How can I leave the family? And we don't hear of exceptional successes from the Land of Israel. In a word, Sol, the world is closing in on me. It was never good for me. However, now it's getting worse for me from day to day because I had a great deal of hope in the children. I always figured that, when the children grew up, they would be self sufficient, that they would no longer need my help. But now it appears that I have completely lost out as far as the children are concerned. Rifkele is weak; she can't work, and she can't earn enough for her own needs. Joseph learned a trade, but it turns out that he's not working, not earning anything, has been hanging around for three months already. Aunt Malke is so accustomed to being sick that she doesn't leave bed when she's well... Well, Sol, that's the summary, the balance sheet, of my life, pardon the expression. You, Sol, will think to yourself there, "No matter how often Uncle Wolf has written to me about his 'successes,' everything is as it was, and everything is the same." It seems to me that nothing is new any more, everything is old material, and only the same again, and the same once again. So, devoted Sol, don't be angry with me for pouring out my bitter heart to you. Not having another friend in the world to whom I can pour out my bitter heart, I do it to you, my only devoted Sol. Although I'm aware that you have no pleasure from my letter and that you can't be of any help in easing my suffering or in assuring my existence in the future, nevertheless I feel eased somewhat when I write you this letter which is full of suffering. I hope to also write you letters sometime that will be filled with joy. So, heartfelt regards for you and your dear Esther and Leonard. Regards to your sisters. How are they doing with their business? Regards also to Ruchel (sic) and family. Regards to your father and in-laws and uncles, et al. Heartfelt regards to you from Aunt Malke, Rivkele and Joseph. Regards also from the whole family, including Aunt Poria Lewin, Pinya Lewin, Uncle Maniel Lewin, et al. Aunt Esther and Uncle Lazer send heartfelt regards. With respect, Your uncle, Wolf Lewkowicz Please respond quickly. Thanks for sending the newspapers each time. All material Copyright 1995 by Marshall L. Zissman and Sol J. Zissman.