Lodz, 7 May 1936 My devoted and beloved brother, as well as devoted nephew, and niece, Sol Zissman, I am a little late with this letter to you. There are many reasons to give, but I'm not going to recount each and every separate reason because it would take too much time and paper. The principal reason was that Aunt Malke was sick and when she improved a bit, i.e., after eight weeks in the hospital she felt a little better, not waiting for the doctors to release her, she insisted that they send her home. My objections and pleas didn't help (when I pointed out) that at home she would not have what she had at the hospital. She was intent on being home for Passover; even if she were sick, she wanted to be in her own home. To be brief, ten days before Passover I took her home. She still felt quite ill. The Passover holiday was approaching. I myself was moving around as if I were in a daze because I didn't have any work; the landlord threatened that he would ask the court to throw me out into the street because I owed him for eight months' rent, besides big problems and small problems and just problems...to which you are already so accustomed to hearing from your uncle all the time. To be brief, the world was closing in on me. I had no other alternative but to approach you, my devoted and dear brother, and to stretch out my hand for you to help me in my predicament. Although it was not so easy for me to write to you, I was nevertheless 100% certain that you, my devoted brother, would not sit down to the seder to conduct and to celebrate the traditional holiday of Passover until you had fulfilled your obligation to your brother and uncle... Meanwhile, at the right time, three days before Passover, I received $15 from you. During the intermediate days of Passover, I also received $10. But no letter. This made me a bit nervous, even though the newspapers arrived punctually and the money punctually, but nevertheless I was looking high and low for a letter. During the holiday, on the second day of Passover, I received a letter from Opoczno from my dear sister and dear brother-in-law, and they enclosed a letter from you, dated March 18. Two weeks later, I received a letter from you, dated April 7, in which you thank me for the present for your son, Leonard. Now your two letters lie before me, one to Uncle Eliezer in Opoczno and the second to me, and I your uncle try to collect my thoughts in order to answer you. Even though I'm not certain that I will be successful in constructing this letter and in expressing what I am thinking in my head and feeling in my heart, nevertheless I have arranged to have enough paper and a good pen. I am also, thank G-d, somewhat calmed because Aunt Malke feels better, thank G-d, although not completely (well). However, she's out of bed; also, the doctors are not coming so often, and I have also taken care of the landlord in a businesslike fashion and calmed him down. However, as to work I am far from being in order, but I hope that it won't always be bad, although you once wrote that "until the 15th, things will be bad, and then they'll be worse..." The humor is not even apt here; however, it is, after all, a truthful bit of humor of yours. Well, I have already completely explained to you the nature of the circumstances under which I am now writing my long letter to you. In order to be brief, I will write that, up to now, I have lived through a horrible and bitter winter, without work, with illnesses, with doctors, with hospitals, etc. Right now, thank G-d, I am out of peril with Aunt Malke, and I also hope to get a job in the same factory where I used to work. Good or bad, we still have to thank G-d...because it could have been still worse... Well, until now I really didn't know what was happening around me and how great the peril was. However, now that I am somewhat more relaxed and I begin to recall my thoughts, I begin to recognize that I am not as alone as I imagined. There are still people in the world who think about and remember about me and about our situation... I read your letter to Uncle Eliezer, and want to find something (there) because Uncle Eliezer writes me that he is stunned by what you wrote... I also read your last letter to me in which you express warm and heartfelt thanks from you and from your son for the present I sent. There is a contrast between the two letters, between my letter and Uncle Eliezer's letter, although I don't know what he wrote to you about me personally. Obviously, I read that it has to do with a sum (needed) to help and to assist me... You know what, Sol? As to just that point, it hurts me (as it does) when a sore part of the body is touched by a sharp instrument. First of all, I have to make clear to you that I didn't authorize anyone to be an intermediary between you and me. Secondly, I want to clarify what caused Uncle Eliezer to write to you because, after all, he lives in Opoczno and I live in Lodz. However, hearing that Aunt Malke was seriously ill, lying in the hospital, he sent his son, Yoske, here to inform himself as to what was going on with me. His son, being in Lodz, also visited Aunt Malke in the hospital and, recognizing the sort of condition in which he had found her and simply seeing what was going on with my household, I understand that telling all of this to his parents caused them to write a letter to you, and the whole letter was especially dedicated to me personally... Although I am unaware of what he wrote to you there, nevertheless I read your answer and understand it too well... I don't know whether anyone else understands your writing as well as I do, and yet it leaves me with the same feeling as the patient had when everyone, a friend, a neighbor, a relative, came and wanted to assist somehow, wanted to help, although none of the suggestions, none of the quack medications, could help. However, the others believe that they certainly won't spoil things... Then again, you, my devoted Sol, are like the specialist who has been tending to the patient for years, who is already familiar with all the infirm parts of the patient's body. So you dislike getting advice from a country doctor in whom you do not have a great deal of confidence... You, as the attending physician, want to treat your ill patient in accord with your understanding and in accord with your methodology, without asking advice or questions of anyone... You prescribe your medicine at your own risk and on your own responsibility... I, as the ill patient, listen to all the specialists and doctors, but I have to remain silent... I dare not speak because it is strictly forbidden to speak... I know only one thing: I am sick, and you doctors want to help me. The question is only whether you are able to help me... It sometimes happens that all these medicines exhaust the patient, simply sicken him. Nevertheless, one has to get used to them because it's even worse without medicine. No matter how irritated you are with what Uncle Lazer wrote, you should really not be angry with him and at what he wrote to you about me. Then again, from my perspective, I have the utmost confidence in you as my attending physician and am more than certain that you would expend any effort in order to cure the patient whom you have tended for so many years. Willingly or not willingly, I must respect the other, the country, doctor. And here, Sol, I will refer to a short historical humorous story that I once learned and studied. What is the origin of the saying that "G-d provides the cure before the illness?" Two doctors were once called (to tend to) a patient who had a boil in his throat, one a surgeon, a professor, the second an ordinary doctor, to consult on whether to operate, i.e., whether to cut out the boil, or whether to ease the pain with medicines, salves, etc. Both doctors engaged in a consultation and spoke to each other in Latin about the matter before them. By chance, the patient understood Latin very well and realized that they weren't making themselves understood to each other and were not coming to an agreement. So the patient started to laugh and to cough until the boil burst on its own...therefore, the saying that G-d sends the cure before the illness... Well, Sol, I think that will be quite enough for today because this is the fourth page already. I have to end my letter now because it's a little too long... So, not having anything more of significance to relate, I will add that, thank G-d, we are all well; I hope to hear the same about you, as well as about your family. I thank you sincerely for the $25 that you sent me, and I am happy that my present was so well received by you there. I should have written to your son separately, but this time he'll have to be satisfied with a few words. I hope to meet him at another time when he is older and has come to know me as you have come to know me. Heartfelt regards from everyone to everyone. With respect, Your uncle, Wolf Lewkowicz Please answer promptly. All material Copyright 1995 by Marshall L. Zissman and Sol J. Zissman.