Lodz, 10 September 1933 Precious, beloved brother, as well as nephew, S. Zissman, I wrote you a letter, my devoted one, about three weeks ago. Without waiting for a reply, I am now writing you a second letter. First of all, I will let you know of the state of my health. I write you that my foot is healed, thank G-d, although I am still using a cane and limp a little. However, there is no longer any danger. Everything is healed, and I am permitted to work again. Last week, i.e., August (sic) 1, I began to work again. However, the season is about to end, i.e., I was in bed during the height of the season. What can I do? Everything was surely destined to be this way. Believe me, Sol, that I am already so accustomed to my troubles that as to every incident, every experience, that I go through, it seems to me that it has to be thus. I no longer have any hope for better times. I have given up all my desires because I have made peace with my fate, and my common sense tells me that this is the way it has to be and must be. You probably think, devoted Sol, that you uncle is living happily today. "He's well; he's working; he's making a living." So, I write you, my devoted brother, that your uncle is far from from being (included) among the happiest people in the world... Is then my steel pen capable, my devoted brother, of setting everything out on paper? No. First of all, I don't want to make you so sad because you have never had any pleasure from me. Second, if I had you close to me, perhaps you would be able to ease my suffering... I wander about in confusion for days on end. I don't sleep all night. My mind races without stopping, and I am unable to work out a plan for easing my suffering. I am already too weak and worn out, at age 48, to have to get up at 3:00 a.m. and rush to work, work until 9:00 p.m., and for all this to earn such insignificant wages that are barely enough for bread and water. I am now working four days a week, sixteen hours a day, and earn, according to the current exchange rate, $3 a week, i.e., eighteen gulden, since the dollar is worth six zlotys. Rent alone costs me $1.50 per week, and how about electricity, heat, etc? It's worst of all as to the children. My daughter, Rivkele, is a girl of nineteen already; Joseph is thirteen years old. They need clothing, food, etc. And woe is to the father who has brought children into the world without the means of providing them with clothing, etc... It slices my heart being witness to all of this. However, I have no solution... How is such a father viewed by children, by a wife? Just like a good for nothing, an unlucky bungler, an incompetent. You see, devoted Sol, your uncle's mind is still well and alert enough that I understand the situation to be more serious than it may be. Therefore, devoted brother, it is my lot to suffer so much. That's why I am so depressed. That's why I am so pessimistic It's because I am excluded from the world. I wander about here (as one) who is unneccessary in the world. I feel that my situation is becoming more serious from day to day. I am getting weaker and can no longer carry the yoke. The burden of making a living is making me prematurely gray. Everyone who sees me say, "Wolf, you must be suffering from something because you are prematurely gray." But, go explain to each of them that it's the result of not having three good years in my whole life. Well? Is it any wonder that a person becomes prematurely gray? Do you think, devoted brother, that your uncle dreams of wealth, of luxury, of joys? No, I know quite well that all of this was not created for such unfortunate persons as your uncle is. However, however, my sole desire and hope is that I should somehow live through the few years that I have left to live in G-d's little world and that, in my old age, I should not have to suffer from hunger and need, chas v'cholilah, because I have endured enough already. Therefore, my devoted brother, now as the old year is ending and all its foulness is ending and a new year is again approaching, I go to the synagogue and stand before Almighty G-d and present Him with a balance sheet as to what the past year brought me...in October, I was dismissed from my job; in November, I was thrown out of work at the factory; in December, I suffered from the cold; in January, I suffered from hunger; in February, my wife lay ill; in March, my only sister became ill, came to Lodz , and caused me pain, pain; in April, I was a matzoh baker in Opoczno; in May, I was "negotiating deals;" in June, I went back to work and burned my foot and lay in bed for eight weeks, i.e., June and July; in August, I was working again and earned a pittance. Well, what do you say, Sol? If I present my balance sheet for the family to the heavenly court this Rosh Hashona, will they pay any attention to me? I am, in the final analysis, only the grandchild of Lazar the son of Fawel... It seems to me that it will have some effect and if it doesn't, I'll leave with a strong protest. I'll simply argue that "If you want me to go on living in this little world, provide me with enough to survive and if not, take me away from here...because it's becoming disgusting, life is unbearable... However, I fear, Sol, that I won't be the only one with my complaint because, this year, many, very many, will come on Rosh Hashona with the same complaint. Isn't that right??? Therefore, Sol, we dare not provoke the Master of the Universe, but we must instead come to synagogue with prayer, "...like a beggar at the door..." In fact, we implore in the first penitential prayers: "Listen to our prayerful songs." These mere words make us sober and fearful of the Day of Judgement on which a judgement is made for every person as to "...who will live, who will die, who by storm, and who by plague, who by strangulation, and who by stoning, who will be enriched and who will be impoverished, who will be degraded and who will be exalted..." Therefore, my devoted brother, I want to wish that, for the coming New Year, you and your family will be inscribed in the Book of Life, in the Book of Good Health, in the Book of Sustenance. May this be the end of a year of curses. May a happy, healthy year commence for all of you. May it be a year of blessings. Good fortune, good health and long life May you be given from heaven in the new year, 5694. Celebrations, joy unbounded. It should be reported, Sol, that you have become a truly wealthy man in America. And, most important of all, Sol, your Uncle Wolf wishes that you, your wife and son, parents, uncles, aunts, sisters, family will be inscribed and sealed for good for the new year. The rest, Sol, which I cannot wish you but which I think of in my heart, you should understand on your own. May it all come to pass. And let us say, "Amen." Well, heartfelt regards to you and your family. My wife, Aunt Malke, also sends heartfelt regards to everyone. My children, Rivke and Joseph send heartfelt regards to all. Regards to your father, uncles, sisters, Ruchele, Bryndl, Rifchele, et al. I thank you sincerely for the newspapers that you send me weekly. Please respond quickly about what's going on in general with you because, as to what's happening in America, I read after all in the Forward. Most important, what's the situation as far as business and the store are concerned? Your uncle, Wolf Lewkowicz Please answer promptly. All material Copyright 1995 by Marshall L. Zissman and Sol J. Zissman.