Posted on 02/09/2009 12:36:11 AM PST by nw_arizona_granny
Yes, I have a horrible accent. It is not one bit cute and continually causes me great embarrassment. Before I retired, I had assignments in other states as part of my employment. One assignment was as a Customer Service Rep in Wash D.C. During many, many of my phones calls all over the country, I was asked, “and what part of Maine are you from?” and it was never meant as a compliment. It is a harsh, nasal sounding accent and much as I abhor it, after 77 years, I guess I'm stuck with it. In fact, many times, I am referred to as a male on the telephone. Embarrassing, indeed!
http://www.jewishmuzic.blogspot.com/2006/02/story-of-hashgacha-protis ...
Names have been changed to protect privacy.
Mrs. Schiff rang the top bell, the one that had the name Spitzer written
on a piece of tape. A young woman answered the door, and upon spotting her
visitor, her face brightened. She moved aside, to allow Mrs. Schiff to enter
into her humble abode.
Giveret Spitzer was a woman that had been married for nine years, with
no children. At her tenth anniversary, she was blessed with quintuplets, five
beautiful children. Before they had given birth to their quintuplets, the
Spitzers had led a modest lifestyle; afterwards, they became Penniless.
It was then that Mrs. Schiff stepped in, with her Chinese auction that
had brought in a tidy sum. She had organized the auction to help the poor
couple; whose expenses had just quintupled. Giveret Spitzer led Mrs. Schiff into
her children’s bedroom. “These are my five babies,” she said proudly, as she
pointed to each of her children. Mrs. Schiff looked at those five innocent
neshomes with a smile. Then her gaze wandered to her surroundings. The room was
threadbare, except for one small picture frame on the wall. Slowly, as if she
was drawn by some hidden force, Mrs. Schiff neared the picture, entranced in its
files of mystery. There was something so familiar about that woman, and yet...
With a last moan, Mrs. Schiff fainted. Giveret Spitzer called the ambulance, and
Mrs. Schiff was put onto a stretcher, and driven directly to the hospital.
The next day Giveret Spitzer came to visit Mrs. Schiff , and see how she
was faring. As soon as she entered the room Mrs. Schiff sat up abruptly. “Who is
that woman in the picture, on your wall?” She demanded. “How are you feeling,
Mrs. Schiff ?” “Can you tell me how you know this woman?” Mrs. Schiff asked
again. “Sh-She was my mother.” Mrs. Schiff sat up straighter and looked Giveret
Spitzer in the eye. “Your mother? Tell me, is she still alive?” “I’m sorry Mrs.
Schiff, she passed away last year.”
Mrs. Schiff was silent for a moment, as if she was digesting the news
Giveret Spitzer had just shared with her. Then, with a faraway look in her hazel
eyes, she turned to Giveret Spitzer and said, “I think I have a story to share
with you.”
“It all began when I was fifteen, and was taken to the Bergen-Belsen
concentration camp. I was placed in a Barrack together with some 70 girls
varying in age from 14-16. Most girls left their religion behind, under the
trying circumstances, but I and my four friends remained steadfast in out
yiddishkeit; we said we’d rather die Al Kiddush Hashem than in another manner.
One day, Rivche, called us all together excitedly. “Tomorrow is
Chanukah! she exclaimed, her eyes shining like a burning candle, illuminating
the thick darkness. “I heard the Rebbe tell one of his talmidim the good news.
We must light the menorah!” After sitting together for an hour, we
devised a plan. We would trade in our daily ration of bread for machine oil from
a girl who worked in the factory. The thread from our prison uniforms would
serve as the wick, and two stones would create the fire. Now all we needed was a
menorah to hold it all together. We had devised a plan for this too; a very
risky plan indeed. After thinking it through, we realized that a potato peel,
with a nice, round shape is capable of serving as a menorah’.
And it seemed like the most possible item to find, in our present
circumstance. So we agreed that tomorrow night, at midnight, we would try to get
those potato peels, from the main kitchen. It was common knowledge that every
night, at midnight, there was a five minute period in which the kitchen was not
guarded. It was when the changing of the guards took place. The old guards that
have watched the kitchen all day, would retire for the night; while the guards
serving in the night shift would take them over.
Our plan went as follows: one of us would crawl into the kitchen,
through the only open window, and the other four would stand by the remaining
windows, and warn the girl inside, of an upcoming Nazi. It wasn’t a safe plan,
but it seemed like our only choice. The next day arrived, followed by a dark,
moonless night. At last, the clock struck 12:00. This was our signal. Midnight
the camp was wrapped in an eerie silence, as we crept stealthily towards the
kitchen. I was chosen to crawl into the kitchen, while my four friends waited by
the windows. I crept into the kitchen, my heart beating wildly in my chest.
Fearfully, I approached the large garbage bin, in the far corner of the kitchen,
and began to sift through its contents methodically.
As I sifted, I could hear the loud grumbling of my hungry stomach. I had
given up my ration today, and I was famished! I saw small pieces of food, and
stuffed them into my mouth. At last, I found one potato peel with a perfect
shape, and placed it aside tenderly. Then I continued searching.
Bravo! A second perfect potato peel! I glanced up at the window, and saw
Sarale waving frantically, motioning to me, to crawl out quickly. “Get out of
here fast, Chana!” My intuition screamed. “But I can’t!” I thought to myself,
panicking. “I can’t just go out with two potato peels! I must find at least one
more!”
I turned back to the garbage, and began throwing things frantically in
all directions, searching for one more potato peel.
“HALT!” Somebody thundered. I looked up to see a tall Nazi official, his
gun pointed at my chest, as he smiled maliciously. On both sides of him were my
four friends, an _expression of pure terror written all across their stricken
faces. “You thought you could steal, did you?” He said, between clenched teeth.
“Well, you’ll have to be punished for committing such a great sin.” Here he
paused, to let us grasp the impact of his words. “Tomorrow, at exactly noon all
five of you will be hung, in front of the entire camp, so all will learn the
punishment for stealing. Now scoot!” And with a last shove he let us free. Until
the next afternoon.
The darkness seemed even thicker, and more menacing, as we trudged back
to our barrack. We entered, and sat down around our precious menorah. We sat
there, reminiscing those Chanukahs, which we had spent together with our family,
at home. We remembered the majestic silver menorah that Tatte had lit, and the
games of dreidel that we had played together. We savored the taste of sizzling
latkes in our minds, and remembered the delightful smiles we had all worn when
we received the Chanukah Gelt from Oma and Opa. But most of all we remembered
the feeling of unity we had felt. That feeling of security, one only experiences
when spending time with family. And we cried. We cried as we thought about all
those people we would be meeting tomorrow. Rivche was going to meet her beloved
parents, and I was going to meet my little baby brother, the one that those Nazi
beasts had shot before he had even lived one year. And then, we lit the menorah.
The tiny flame burned for but a mere second, but it was long enough to infuse
hope into our deflated souls.
It was then that Sarale came up with the plan. A plan in which we could
perhaps save our lives. A plan that seemed almost impossible. Sarale suggested
that we go ask Shaina for help. Shaina was a fifteen-year-old girl, who was
Jewish, just like us. There was only one difference. Shaina knew six languages;
while we knew only two. The Nazis, may their names be blotted out, used Shaina
as their pawn, and forced her to be their interpreter. They gave her a radio,
and put her in charge of reporting to the higher Nazi officials of the enemy’s
strategies. To insure that she would remain alive, they gave her a small shack
in the woods, and a full piece of bread each day. We envied her to no end. She
was a Jewish girl just like us, did she deserve the ‘royal treatment’ she was
receiving, just because she knew a few more languages? Also, we were sure that
she served as our spy too, and told the Nazis each time we would commit a “sin”.
In short, we hated Shaina.
“She’ll never help us!” I said, looking at Sarale mockingly. “She’ll
just make things worse for us!” “The situation can’t get much worse. If we don’t
go to her, we’ll lose anyways. Why not try our luck?” Sarale reasoned.
And so, for the second time that night, we crept into the thick
darkness, this time heading in the direction of the woods. Soon we were standing
at the door of her shack. Sarale knocked timidly. No answer. We knocked a little
harder, but there was still no response. So we looked into her “window”, and saw
that her little shack was empty. Discouraged, we began walking resignedly back
to our barrack, when Ruchele spotted a light in the distance. Our curiosity
piqued, we followed the light, and soon we saw the profile of a girl. She was
holding a siddur in her hand, and singing Ma’oz Tzur. And the light was coming
from a silver-plated menorah! A menorah! How we had risked our lives to acquire
one, and here was a girl who possessed a true menorah, right here in the
concentration camp!
There was only one girl that it could be. Shaina. We stood there,
entranced In the moving melody, as her lilting voice transported us to a
different place. We didn’t see blood and death, we saw ten brave warriors,
Matisyahu and his sons, marching to victory. We didn’t see despair, we saw
heroism. And then Shaina turned around, to see us looking over her shoulder.
“Y-you girls!” She sputtered. “Have you come to spy on me, to tell the
Nazis what you have seen me doing? Do you think that I don’t know that you five
will be hung tomorrow? You better get out of my sight, or I’ll make sure you’re
killed instantly!”
“B-but Shaina, w-w-we didn’t come to s-spy. W-we wanted you to h-help
us!”
I stammered, my voice quivering. “I said get out of my sight!” Shaina
screamed, her high pitched voice echoing in the surrounding forest. With heads
hung, and shoulders drooped in despair, we headed back to our barrack. It seemed
that this was our fate, we were destined to be killed.
That night, as we lay on our bunkers, with the fear of dying hovering
above our heads, we spoke lots of Lashon Horah about Shaina. We couldn’t
understand why she couldn’t at least be nice about it, and how she was able to
threaten us with death, if she was a Jewish girl too; just like us. Where was
her heart?
The next afternoon arrived too soon. The entire camp was assembled, and
the Nazi that had caught us yesterday tied our hair to the noose.
He was about to raise the noose, when somebody screamed “Stop!” He
turned around, startled.
There stood Shaina, and she was motioning to him frantically, waving her
radio wildly in the air. He approached her, grimacing. A few minutes later, he
returned to untie our hair, and with a last kick, sent us back to work,
muttering all the while,”
Mrs. Schiff ended her story. As if she had just been transported back to
the present, she turned to Mrs. Spitzer and explained.
“A few days later we were liberated, and I never got a chance to thank
Shaina for saving my life. After the war, I searched all over for her, but
no-one could trace her. It was as if she disappeared, leaving just her actions
to bear testimony to her existence. And then I saw her on your wall. That is why
I fainted. When I saw your mother, I was transported back to that faraway time,
when my life was on the brink, and she saved me.” “Look at how Hashem runs his
world, Giveret Spitzer! Do you see the hashgacha to this story? Hashem sent the
daughter of Shaina to me, so that I can raise money for her, in repayment for
the time that she saved my life! It’s astounding!”
“Yes Mrs. Schiff, it is unbelievable hashgacha. But I have the last,
missing piece of this puzzle. The night before I had my quintuplets, My mother
came to me in a dream. She smiled at me with serenity unbeknownst to the
inhabitants of this world, and kept on repeating the same five words over and
over again: “Finif Neshomes Far Finif Neshomes”- Five Neshomes for Five
Neshomes.
And I asked her “Mamme, what are you saying? I don’t understand!” But
she just smiled, and repeated “Finif Neshomes Far Finif Neshomes.”
I didn’t understand her words then, but now I do. In merit of the five
neshomes that my mother saved during the war; you and your four friends, I was
zocheh to give birth to my five beautiful neshomes.
Names have been changed to protect privacy.
~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=
IRA L. JACOBSON
=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~
mailto:la...@ieee.org
I’m trying to catch up with the new posts, lots of reading. While on vacation I tried catching up on my reading of Atlas Shrugged, too. I’m still 2 chapters behind on the book club.
While at my daughter’s place,I spent most of my time ripping out bushes, laying a brick border across the front flower bed, purchasing and planting flowers and a new bush or 2. It was fun, but tiring.
Came home to find my garden orders had arrived: 1 apple tree, 1 cherry tree, blueberry bushes, asparagus, potatoes, summer bulbs, and onion sets. Now I need to find time to get those planted in my own garden.
GM Recalls 1.5 Million Vehicles
General Motors says it is recalling 1.5 million vehicles because of potential
engine fires.
MORE DETAILS: http://www.10News.com/tu/5G0ZzJhtp.html
Dallas was fun with the kids, but now I’ve got a lot of catching up to do here. :)<<<
Glad to see you are back and had a good time.
Your new trees and plants sound wonderful.
Some of the urban chicken articles, are amazing.
What is it with the people of today, that credit card that will never be repaid, so they spend hundreds of dollars to produce a dollars worth of eggs a week.
Should give someone a few ideas for building things to sell them, free pallets would make nice laying boxes, LOL, so do free spools that wire comes from, knock out a couple boards, fill with hay, stack them up and the chickens will find them.
LOL, no reason for anyone to not be bringing in side money.
Thanks for the links.
There are too many places here that I would love to visit for the first time and many, many more that I would love to revisit.<<<
I agree, so much to see and so little time in one small lifetime.
Happy to see you joining in the thread, You are welcome to join us.
Suggest you see what else they think -
http://images.logicsix.com/DHS_RWE.pdf
It will have to wait until I feel better, but expect that it will point out that if we love freedom, then we are apt to be militia.
here is a link to a very informative read from Feb,2008 (yes over a year ago )
http://www.atimes.com/atimes/Front_Page/JB26Aa01.html
I did not post a snip. you’ll see<<<<
Yes, it was all there to see and still he won.
How?
That is fodder for a million books.
Haven’t posted in for a couple of weeks... been hard at it getting this gulch up and running! The snow is mostly gone, and have had some truly righteous Sunshiny days this week... the soil is finally getting soft enough to work (YAY!). Speaking of Righteous... Happy (belated) Easter!<<<
Happy Easter to you two.
Glad you checked in and are having fun, now that you are retired, there is no excuses for husbands who do not complete the “Honey Please Do This” list.
Guess I spent most of Easter in bed, for I don’t remember it happening.
Happy Easter to you too.
LOL, my ping list does not work, it depends on me sending out a note now and then and reminding you that you are getting too far behind.
Your name has been added, but don’t wait for the ping, as we are always adding new information, or most days I try to and so do some of the others.
Join in the thread, for you are always welcome here.
Happy Easter to you and much love.
You think it will be over that quickly? (4 years)<<<
If it does not end in 4 years, then we may well be a hundred years to spend living through hell and not many folks will even remember what they are missing.
Fed Buys $7.37 Billion in Treasurys<<<
Not a surprise, no one else will do so.
I feel like I live in a Monopoly money world.
When the Power Grid Shuts Down – Why You Should Care to Prepare for Disasters Emergencies<<<
I fear that out here in the west, we will quickly know what it is like to live through a disaster, for the least little thing is likely to set off a bunch of the kooks.
It will be a mess, to live in a city and have it shut down.
Thank you for all the good articles that you are posting.
Recession Closes In on Chicken Farmers<<<
I would think that chicken was still the best buy for feeding a family, you can really make soup from the feet alone.
Why the shut down?
Yes, this type of contract is risky for any business, for all of a sudden the parent company disappears and you are out of business.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.