Lodz, 30 September 1930

To my beloved and precious brother, as well as nephew, Shloyme,

You will surely be surprised, devoted Sol, that, without having
received an answer to my first letter, I am already writing a
second letter to you.  And opening the letter, your heart will
beat fast and you will think, "G-d knows whether something else
has happened there..." because recently I have become much more
limited in writing to you, and suddenly two letters, one of two
weeks ago and one now.

So, my devoted brother, I can write that nothing new and nothing
important has happened to me recently.  Everything is as it was.
 It's merely that today is the eve of Yom Kippur.  My heart is
full.  My eyes are overflowing.  We are about to go to synagogue
to make an accounting of our souls, and I was seized by a
longing, a tugging, to write a letter to my dearest, to my most
devoted, brother, as well as nephew.  And now, in fact, I am
sitting and remembering what Yom Kippur in a small town used to
be like in the old days, twenty-five years ago, when you were
still a child.  These days, the old-time fear, the terror, the
weeping, the fright, the traditional observance are missing,
although if you go out into the street, you can tell that today
is the eve of Yom Kippur.  Nevertheless, it's Lodz after all,
not Kinsk...  

I can imagine that Yom Kippur must be even less noticeable in
Chicago because the larger the city, the less traditional
observance there is...  I myself am the best example since I am
much worse than I used to be.  I really don't know what caused
me to retrogress, but I really don't have the same feeling that
I used to have...  Perhaps this is the reason that I suffer so
much???  

In any event, I go to synagogue and pray and make an accounting
of the state of my soul during the past year.  And I don't have
to tell the Master of the Universe everything in detail because,
after all, He is omniscient and is aware of everything that
happens and all the experiences that befell me this last year. 
I stood in the synagogue on Rosh Hashona.  I don't cry any more
because I have no tears...  I recite all the prayers quietly.  I
no longer make an outcry because I don't have the strength.  I
have become quite pessimistic toward life.  I don't strive for
life because life is not worth very much for little people like
me.  However, it's simply that just as a person must control
himself when he finds himself in great danger, so in fact do I
act logically and control myself with respect to all my problems
and predicaments...  If not for this, I would long ago have
committed suicide.

And now, as I prepare to go to the synagogue, I have one plea
for the Master of the Universe.  If it is my destiny and that of
my family to live in good health, then I demand that I not be
dependent on anyone because the assistance of people is small,
but the shame is great.  I don't know, devoted Sol, whether
there can be found another person such as I who doesn't demand
an unearned penny, even though I know that every dollar that you
sent me you sent me with your full heart and that you may very
well have thought to yourself that "Uncle Wolf is really not a
simple beggar who just writes to America for dollars.  He must
be suffering a great deal there..."

However, devoted Sol, reading your last letter and reading
recently in the newspapers about how the crisis has also
ensnared America, I begin to tremble.  Another person in my
place who received such a letter from you would think, "So what,
an American is writing (about things) there.  It's still better
for them than it is for us here.  They have real estate; they
have money and get along."  I react differently to your writing,
devoted Sol.  Recently I have found real truth in what you write
in every letter, and most of all I have been stunned by your
writing me that you are ill...  

And, now, going to synagogue, I stand in a corner and shed a
tear before the Master of the Universe, and pray to him, "Master
of the Universe, there stands before you now at the time of Kol
Nidre a little person, an insignificant being, who prays to you
for a small thing.  I pray that if it is inscribed that I am to
remain alive during the coming year, I would like to have the
honor granted by G-d to see my brother, my nephew, before my
eyes this year, healthy, refreshed, lively, as he used to be."  

As you read there what I have written, Sol, you will joke that I
have presented too great a request, that I have imposed too
great a requirement for the new year on the Master of the
Universe.  You'll think there, "How is this possible?"  So, I
say to you, devoted Sol, that everything is possible for G-d.  A
person just can't know.  Perhaps you will decide to enter into
the kind of business that will bring you here to Europe.  It
seems to me that if my plea were granted it would be my greatest
joy in the world.  What do you think of my request, Sol?  Can
G-d make it possible for both of us to have the honor to see
each other again face to face and to talk to each other in
person???  

Yes, devoted Sol, just as a poet hopes to see his writings in
print, just as a person in love hopes to consummate his love
affair and to see the fruit of his love, just as a devoted
mother hopes to see her only child who is far away, so do I hope
to see you again before my eyes, my devoted one, because your
last letter, Sol, upset me so that I lie awake all night
thinking about you...  However, no matter how troubled I am
because you are so far away from me at this moment, our hearts
are so close to each other.  And yet, such a great ocean
separates us from each other.

I close my letter now, devoted Sol, because it is getting late. 
And think of me with a sigh for I will not back away in
synagogue from my plea that I should have the merit to see you
before my eyes this year.  However, until that happens we have
to content ourselves with a wish that you be inscribed and
sealed for a good year.  May this old year of curses be ended
and may a year of blessings begin.  A happy and healthy new year
to you, your wife and dear son, also for your in-laws, sisters,
father, uncles, et al.  This is the wish of your devoted uncle,
as well as brother.  Good tidings, help and consolation.

So, nothing more of importance.  I beg you, Sol, to send me an
answer immediately because your letters are the best consolation
for me in the world.  Most important of all, write me about how
you are feeling and about the crisis in America because,
according to what I read, the crisis is assuming a serious
dimension there!!!

Heartfelt regards for everyone, without exception, from me and
from the whole family.  With respect, 

		Your uncle, as well as brother,

		Wolf Lewkowicz

I am enclosing a newspaper article which discusses the crisis in
America. 


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