Lodz, 20 December 1924 To my dear and devoted nephew, Sol J. Zissman, I received your sixteen-page letter of November 21, as well as the $10. Dear and devoted Sol, your writing made such an impression on me that I am sitting now thinking about your letter and wondering how to answer you. But am I really in a position to answer your wise letter? Can I adequately express my heartfelt gratitude for your good heartedness, for your love, and for the devotion with which you serve me? I read deeply into your letter and found that it is, on the one hand, full of sorrow, suffering, pain, disappointment, etc. On the other hand, the letter is full of happiness, hopefulness, good prospects, and so forth. For example, you describe your auto accident, your dear sister's operation, the difficulties you had in moving into a new store, and I heave a sigh. Why am I so neglectful? Why must I see all this and not be able to help my nephew at all? What do you think, Sol? Do your words elicit tears from your uncle or not? And then, dear child, you write me good news; for example, the operation was a success, you are very happy with the new store. You seem to sweep it all under the car- pet. You must have a very large carpet to cover your Ameri- can uncles, Gershon (George) and Isaac (Dave). Neverthe- less, write to me. It makes me very happy. More importantly, you write that your wedding is planned for February 15, 1925. Reading about the wedding casts me into a reverie, and I feel a tug at my heartstrings. Although I am extremely happy with your decision concerning marriage, and I have written you about that, I have nevertheless fan- tasized a great deal about your marriage. I have thought about it a great deal and dreamed about it quite a bit. And yet, as it happens, your dear and devoted uncle, who loves you so much, who is so proud to have such a nephew, who is proud to have been involved in your raising and early educa- tion as a child, is surprised. Dear Sol, if someone were to have come to me fifteen years ago and said to me, "Wolf, do you know that your Shloymele, with whom you daven, whom you take to cheder, whom you (try to) teach respect for others--this little Gedaliah, this little one, will wander far? This little boy will one day grow up to be a mentsch, a mentsch in the true sense of the word, and will, to top it off, send you and others money every once in a while. He will get married and you, Wolf, will stand at a distance, helpless." What would I have answered such a person? I would have looked at him and thought, "No! Such a thing could never happen. It could never be that I would be torn from my dear (nephew)." But as practical experience has shown us, one must believe these days that all the unexpected things can happen. I only pray to G-d that just as your engagement has surprised me because of my not being there, so may I merit the happy surprise of seeing you and your dear bride soon before my eyes. I know, dear Sol, that it is superfluous to describe my joy at the thought of getting together with you, since our hearts know each other only too well. You write further that each time that you ask me about my situation, I begin to write but slowly digress from that theme. It is true, dear child. I write you long letters about everything and I want to tell you the truth. Your eye sees too far. Someone else in your place would not be so insightful. But since you are interested in the fate of your uncle, you have entered my city, my dwelling, and also my heart. Sometimes you also see what is going on in my heart. Recently you asked me to let you know how much I need a week for expenses and (indicated that) you will help me...you will try to ease my suffering. This is very nice of you. Dear Sol, before you do anything like this, take into con- sideration that your uncle is not yet seventy years old. He doesn't sit in the synagogue and study, not that he couldn't. He doesn't say Psalms, since he has become con- vinced that Psalms don't help at all. To make me rich, my dear child, it would be nice if you could send me two meas- ures of the kind of luck a Ford has, or a Coolidge. Then I would know that you were a devoted nephew. I know that you would not be taking food from your own mouth, not that your own cup runneth over either. But now, just wait, you are about to enter a new world (of marriage) and you will begin to know what a man needs. It will be just like the old Litvak said: first he must have a coat, and once he has a coat, he needs a wardrobe in which to hang it; and when he has a wardrobe, he has to rent an apartment; and after he has an apartment, he needs to furnish it, and so on. The same is true of you, dear child. As difficult as things may be for me, as much as I may struggle, as pain- ful as my life may be, I cannot and must not ask anything of you now, especially at a time like this, since I know full well that you are struggling there without any assistance from anyone. Above all, you are not even getting a dowry, as is the custom in Poland, with which grooms (here) rent and furnish an apartment. You probably don't even think of such things, and you intend to live with your in-laws. If things are indeed so, I understand your situation. You are working very hard. You are climbing up the ladder as fast as you can, so that you may reach a higher plateau. You are also lonely there. No one helps you or does anything for you. On the contrary, you are having trouble with a sister, with an uncle, with an aunt, etc. Why must such a young person be burdened with such things? I wonder if your sainted mother is at peace knowing that she left her only votary (in such a situation). And perhaps G-d wanted everything to be the way it is. So we must accept everything as a blessing and continue to say that everything turns out for the best. About your receiving letters from Opoczno which contain less than happy news, all I can say, dear Sol, is that living in Poland lately is very difficult. Bakers did well until 1923. But recently the government has gotten after every- one, without exception--merchants, craftsmen, shopkeepers, et al. I am sending you a newspaper article which will clarify the situation that exists in Poland. You will see the figures which speak for themselves. I recently received a letter from Lazer. He asks if I will agree to go with him to Argentina, where he has two broth- ers; they write fairly good reports of it. So, I ask you Sol, can I answer such a question? What can I answer him? Believe me, as long as one doesn't become too introspective, as long as one doesn't take stock of one's position in the world, things aren't so bad. But as soon as one holds the mirror up to oneself and sees how life really looks.... It's no use to talk about my wife and me. We no longer need anything more than, somehow, to get through each day. But what about the children which we brought into the world, who are completely innocent in whatever may befall us? How can we remain disinterested as to them and not raise them prop- erly? It is this, my dear child, which makes me gray and old. My brother-in-law, Eliezer, has also been thinking about this subject lately. I end my writing with heartfelt regards to you and your dear bride. My dear wife and children also send heartfelt regards to you and your fiancee and to both your families. My only son, Joseph, as you call him, sends heartfelt regards and wishes you much luck. From me, your devoted uncle, Wolf Lewkowicz Lepowa 44 Lodz, Poland All material Copyright 1995 by Marshall L. Zissman and Sol J. Zissman.