War Torn Love (7 page)

             
Marym told me a story I had not heard before, sharing with me her own experience. From what I had learned my people have been experiencing this sort of harsh treatment from Christians, Arabs, Muslims, Egyptians and many other races over the course of thousands of years, since the time before  Moses. And when Momma and sister were both finished up explaining themselves to me, I understood I was not much happier - in fact, I was not sure exactly how I was feeling. I guess Momma did not like when I had said, because I guess I was just so frustrated with things in general, I was like the tea pot. I blew my top, shouting at the top of my lungs, “I wish that we weren’t Jewish!”

             
You should have seen it. I wish I could have taken it back before the words left my lips. I stopped and waited for a very negative response from Momma. Momma’s face turned went ashen but surprising to me and Marym, she remained perfectly calm, her hands neatly on her knees, and then calmly tried explaining to me, “My daughter, you should be proud of our heritage, never ashamed, it is God’s will.”

             
I began weeping once again, this time ashamed for what I had just said; I wanted so to take it back
. “
I didn’t mean it Momma, I m so sorry.”

             
She said, “I understood,” but that she was going to have the Rabbi talk with me at next Sabbath.” She continued “And that if you had needed to, you can talk to Poppa this evening.”

             
Which meant another talking by Poppa, I knew I was not in any kind of trouble - in fact; Poppa was like a big old teddy bear. I loved sitting on his lap. I was his little buttercup.

             
“Thanks Momma, and Marym I love you both.” Marym was crying, as she left, so was Momma.

             
Later on that very afternoon, after I was finished with, my daily chores. Momma said, “Honey why don’t you go ahead, and go out and get some fresh air - sitting inside is not going to make me feel any better. Go on go out and play!”

             
Thinking perhaps, she was right; I ran over and met Abram up in our clubhouse. Even back then just seeing him warm smile, hearing his soft, even-pitched voice, somehow cheered me up when I was down. I decided to try to explain to him what my Momma and sister had been kind enough to share with me. That day I felt like I grew a bit closer to them all, and learned how important it was that I remain proud of being Jewish, how important it was that we stick together.

             
I was surprised that young Mr. Abram, too had been as naive as I had on what exactly it had meant to be Jewish - not the scriptural part, no both had studied the last couple of years, but how non-Jewish people really viewed us. Oh,
we knew our prayers etcetera, but we had no idea how some non- Jewish people hatred Jewish people. I discovered later that this was why our family had moved and settled in Poland. Our people had been considered second-class citizens of the world since
the Romans banished us from the Holy lands
. Our temple destroyed, we were forced to scatter to all four corners of the world. But our people never gave up their faith through all this.

             
Everyday in Mrs. Kaczmarek classroom, we were tortured of sorts - by her shrill will to purposely have it out for us Jews. I would have cried most of the time- in class, if it wasn’t for Abram sheer ability to somehow cheer me up just when I needed. He always knew exactly how to make me laugh at just the right times - with his funny faces, which he snuck in when teacher wasn’t looking. It did not bother him as it did me. Of course, I have always been over-emotional. I let things get to me. Mrs. Kaczmarek would make one of the five Jewish children in her class room answer her questions each day at least twice as often as any times of the other twenty other children in the classroom.

             
It came to be that we were deathly afraid to answer her incorrectly. It created a constant state of fear for the five of us; we always walked on eggshells while in her presence. The five of us were assigned added addition homework every day, and she would by never award us an A-grade - even when we had all our answers right on. For example, the weekly spelling test, if an I was not
dotted;
the spelling word was counted as wrong. It would seem that one of the five students was being sent to stand in the
corner, on falsely trumped up charges at least once a day. What was worse was that in Mrs. Kaczmarek classroom, she was creating a proliferate atmosphere of abhorrence towards the Jewish kids that had not existed before her arrival at the school. Kids that I had attended school with ever since the first-grade were now mean. They never seem to have a problem with the fact that we were Jewish, suddenly learned to appreciate our teacher-warped views. They would laugh at us when the teacher took her vengeance on one or all of us at once. That was the only time she would not yell for the entire classroom to be quiet.

             
None of the five set of parents of these Jewish children I speak of in my class - which included my own parents and all attended the same Synagogue - would take any sort of action on our behalf. The parents all knew it would not do any good to stir up trouble; in fact, it could make matters worse. It was a hatred that would not go away it ran deep in some. There was no way to change that.

             
I was so mad that Poppa would not go down to the school and punch Mrs. Kaczmarek in the nose. What I did not or could possibly comprehend at the time, just how bad
the non-Jewish community - people that were supposed to be his friends, treated Poppa himself
- he could not risk making waves. He needed to do business with some of these people. I was not sure if he was ashamed to tell this to me, or not. Frankly, I was just too young. I never thought it could even be possible that anyone could hurt my Poppa - to me he was like my superman. I had thought he was invincible. I guess at some point in life I had to let him off his pedestal, to realize he is only human, just like me. It
was
regrettable
- my own lesson would come for me, highlighting this subject some years later.
I realize
now, we all had a test of our faith, and just how far humanity could fall, so fast. My own people came close to being wiped off the face of this earth forever.

             
The five of us began hanging out – there was safety in numbers. Simultaneously, that made the five us become good friends. At school, soon Abram and I had invited them to become new members of our clubhouse. We could use a few more members.

             
After a month of this impetuous behavior from my teacher. I needed to meddle. I took it upon myself to make an intervention, a legitimate effort to win our teacher over once and for all. If I was successful then I could change her line of thinking about Jewish people – to win her over, show her were not so bad
people that
were just like them, then perhaps things would be
easier
.
I am
a person who cares it’s my nature, I like to meddle in people’s life. I had to uncover out more information about her - she became my case study, and I volunteered this services. Therefore, Abram and I played sleuth
, just
like Sherlock Homes, which I had just finished reading. We two budding detectives proceeded to track her movements, and pursue her after she left the schoolyard on a Wednesday afternoon. We were being awfully careful not to be seen by her. We hid behind trees or anything else that we could find, as cover along the way. If she was to spot either of us, I could only imagine what sort of trouble we would get into.

             
She had walked about a mile from school, in the exact opposite section of town; it was a poorer section, a
down rotten section, on the other side of the tracks. She finally stopped, and went into a rundown brick stone three-story apartment building. It was not much to look at. We could see that she had gone into a second floor apartment. We could make her out through the open apartment windows. The drapes were wide open from and we could see she had four children. They were all so glad to see her as she walked in through the front door. It had struck me as odd. I had not expected that. Mrs. Kaczmarek showed such a loving side - she kissed each and every one of them, showed such tenderness.  She made each one feel special. We sat and watched on, as she made dinner, she then quickly ate herself, and then she changed her clothes, talked to her oldest daughter for a moment. And as quickly as she had stayed, she left them behind once more. It was just after she shut the door behind her, that she waved goodbye to each of them through the window. They all waved to her as she rushed off, and then we witnessed something firsthand that we thought we would have never have seen in a million years. She began to cry as she strolled down the street, out of her children’s sight. She looked nothing like the women I had thought I had known. We had created her into something she was not. I realized what I had been doing was not right - rather I should go out of my way to find out more about her, before I form
any more
options about her.

             
“Wait - did you just see what I saw?” As Abram had been tapping me on my shoulder.

             
“Yes. I can’t believe it.”

             
I was so taken aback by
the recent
development; I was moved, fighting to hold back the tears. I didn’t want to cry in front of Abram, I knew he might have just teased me. The only time I had cried in front of him up until that point was when I had fallen and skinned my knee. I guess I should not have worried; he would end up seeing my cry
quite
a bit, never once was he nothing but comforting.

             
Mrs. Kaczmarek finally ended up arriving at the textile plant, which was owed by a rich and quite mean Jewish family - the largest employer of the town. This family had distanced themselves from the poorer Jew’s.

             
Near as the two of us could figure it out, she must have had to take on a second job, probably in order to feed her four kids. Suddenly we both felt bad for her that we should not have been judging her.

             
“Hana, it would probably best that neither of us say a word to the other kids.”

             
“You’re probably right Abram!”

             
We even pinky - swore on it. All the way, home all I could think about was when the poor woman had time to sleep. And then I realized that I was going to be in trouble for coming home so late. To be honest, the thought of what trouble I faced, or the trouble I put Abram did not dawn on me until the moment the two of us came strolling in through the front door.

             
I reckoned my teacher would appreciate a little cheering up. The very next day, I brought her fresh cut flowers. I didn’t tell her that it was me that was bringing
this stuff to her – so I had to get to class at least a half hour before her to achieve it. Each time I did, and then I would leave the classroom and hide away until it was perfectly safe until the other students began arriving. I genuinely just wanted to cheer her up, even in the smallest of ways.  I felt better when she kept them in a vase right on her desk each day - she would look at them several times, and even smell them on occasion. I brought flowers for her up until the colder weather had begun to set in, and the flowers withered away. Then on each Sunday morning, early in the morning I packed a little care package. I brought her some of our sweet juicy apples, making sure there was more than enough for her children to have later, after the first frost hit the apples it made them even sweeter. I also brought her fresh corn and other vegetables from our garden. As winter had rolled in, I brought her some of Momma’s canned food. I also manage to collect up some used clothes for her children. Momma even allowed me to bring in some whole-made bread, cookies etcetera. With permission from my parents, I put my own Hanukah gift in a care package for her kids. Once I told Abram - whether I had
guilt
y
him or not - he also did the same thing. We even decided that they were to have a gift at their Christmas. I also told the others Jewish children to go along with me. I convinced them that it was in their interest that we would
become the best pupils in class
turn the other cheeks. I also pointed out to them that it would be improper in Gods eyes to hate her. We tried tremendously hard to not give her reason to be mad at us. It was much easier on me and Abram – especially knowing what I knew about her, I knew that she really was not a bad person.  She was underprivileged, and could
scarcely feed her children - she was doing what she could to survive. Rather I sought after to do what my God would expect of me to do. When she treated one of us badly, she had obviously did not meant it.