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A memoir of the Holocaust
By Jacob Zylberman
The online version
© Copyright 1995, 2000, Jack Zylberman
Yiskor
"Don’t forget, Jake, tomorrow is ‘Yiskor,’ said Gershon. "I hope to see you in shul. You too, Shumacher."
He had to repeat it, not getting a reply.
"I don’t know, and I don’t care. I wouldn’t go anyway."
"But Yankel, you mean to say you won’t attend Yiskor, and pray in memory of your parents? There are a few occasions during the year and you refuse? You, of all people, cannot find a half-hour in your busy schedule?
"At least they deserve that much," he said, facing Leo. "Am I right?"
"What can I say?" their even-tempered friend answered. "He made his decision, then he must have a reason, and it doesn’t matter if you or I, or anyone else, likes it or not."
"But why?" Gershon cried. "Why?"
All the while, Jacob sat at the edge of the bed, puffing a Pall-Mall and observing them, particularly Gershon, unaware that he had touched a sensitive chord.
A storm was brewing, gaining strength. It was insulting. He should have known better, and a remark like this could not pass unanswered. This time he inserted a full cigarette in his holder, waiting, and Jacob was ready.
"Now, my friends, I want you to hear what I have to say, especially you, Gershon, since you had started. And I am glad – it gives me an opportunity to unload a heavy load I have carried for a long, long time.
"For years I found myself in a quandary, lost in a maze, fascinating roads luring me deeper and deeper, seeking a way out. In the beginning I must admit it was a challenge that I enjoyed, like an eager beaver roaming from one passage to another, until I got stuck.
"If I speak in circles, then forgive me, I’ll try to explain it" – the three of them filling the room with smoke.
"When I was in cheder, I earned many prizes – pamphlets of great thinkers, scholars and rabbis. Their miracles, divine wonders, added to my vivid imagination. The result, the tales I spun for my classmates, fascinated not only them but me as well.
"At home, to my father, God and his family were his main purpose in life – his children following in his footsteps. Needless to say I loved my parents more than life itself, I worshiped the ground they walked on.
"Three times a day I faced East, davening, even though I did not understand a word. I accepted it fully, no questions asked, in my own way I spoke to God, assured that He listened to me, my heart full of joy and happiness.
"At the time of the high holidays, I was in an aura of grandeur, angels, Seraphim accompanying me to the little shtibl. There He was, God, the Omnipotent, the only one.
"I remember when a friend of mine lost his father, he and his two older brothers said Kaddish. At Yiskor time they were indoors reciting the prayers over the dead, my brothers and I outside, eternally grateful to the Almighty for His benevolence, for keeping my parents, my family intact.
"As time passed, I learned to decode the daily prayers, constantly reminded that we are the chosen, and if our life was different from others then there was a reason, praised be He, God of Israel. He dare not be questioned, if there are difficulties, it will not take long, and the children of Israel will be delivered. The Messiah was on his way, he will gather his brethren, take them to the promised land and live happily ever after.
"But life was not a fairy tale. Days, months and years passed by – a Jewish boy of 12 grew up ahead of time, already sweating in a shop doing chores he hated, not daring to complain. He had to chip in because his younger brothers and sisters were hungry, and his father, a poor watchmaker, could not provide enough to fill their little stomachs. There was no ‘manna’ on the street.
"When on Friday night I was late from work, breaking the sanctity of the Sabbath, my father was unhappy. At first he protested, but eventually he had to give in. And yet he, his children, and other fathers, their children kept the faith. The Great Jehovah, creator of the universe, unchallenged.
"The years followed with chaotic instability, a dormant volcano erupted, spewing fire, a forerunner of hell. Evil men reached to enslave the world, their fingers like deadly claws turning humanity to blood and ashes, culminating with The Holocaust.
"Millions of Jews were annihilated. Venerated men, saintly women, innocent children were burned alive only because they dared to believe in Him, and mankind watched the systematic murder of a people, and so did Jehovah.
"He saw the smoke of crematoriums darken the sky, his chosen people exterminated – He heard the laments. And what was the result? And you tell me to go to shul and ask Him for forgiveness, to recite ‘El Molay Rachamim’ (God full of compassion).
"No, no, my friend, I don’t have to go to shul five or six times a year to be reminded of my loved ones. I remember them all the time, every minute, every second. At night I wake up in a cold sweat. I will remember them until I die.
"And I remember Him too. He belittled my faith in the eyes of those who reject Him, mock Him.
"If so, why don’t you cross the line and join them?
"Because it would add insult to injury. It would not help but aggravate, for they are the cause of my suffering. And He could have prevented it!
"For that I cannot forgive nor forget!"
"You are actually indicting the Creator of the world," Gershon shouted in anger, pointing at Jacob. "Who are you to pass judgment? To decide whether to forgive or not?
"You have no right to speak like that. That is heresy!
"I know how it was. I know how you suffered – didn’t we all? Yet we have to believe in Him no matter what. He keeps us together.
"Now, let’s consider this," he continued. "Just for the sake of tradition, to attend the house of worship will not kill you. If your family were here, surely you would have been near them, the rest is an excuse."
"Oh, Gershon, Gershon, how you miss the point. It is so tragic, so grievously pathetic. I never had fathomed that my estrangement from my maker would be that great. I’m wounded, so deeply hurt that I won’t dare to face Him. Certainly, my presence in His temple would be an embarrassment to Him.
"I was a curious child, never failing to ask questions, expecting right answers, if not my displeasure was evident. My rebby had problems with me. Moreover, as the years passed, all injustices I had encountered made me question. Even in the snow-covered mountains of the Urals I was not silent, almost paying with my life. I am a rebel, having the audacity to question even the highest authority."
"But Jacob, don’t you see?" Gershon said. "God knows the injustice, the cruelty perpetrated on us. He does not forget, but He forgives. … And you cannot?"
"That, my friend, is the whole thing in a nutshell. If one cannot forget, one cannot forgive. … I am not God."
"Let me say a few words, throw in a few ideas of my own," said Shumacher. "I think that I am entitled to take part in this discussion. I am here not to accuse, defend, nor placate anybody; what I wish is to clear up a few things important to us.
"You, Gershon, asked Jacob a question and got a reply, whether satisfactory or not is not relevant. So if you’ll permit me, I’ll add some thoughts of my own.
"I lost my mother before the war, and for a whole year I recited the Kaddish, never failing to attend Yiskor.
"Once, shortly before the traditional memorial services, I witnessed something that made me sad. The house of the Lord, its very foundation began to shake.
"I am sure you know that on Yiskor, congregants donate toward the temple; but because of the sanctity of the day no one is permitted, according to the scriptures, to carry money, so the ‘Shames,’ elders of the temple, get pledges orally.
"The attention given to the big donors was obvious, they were treated royally, while the poor were neglected, my heart bleeding for my father, and others like him.
"Early in life I came to a painful conclusion, that religion like anything else is a business – the bigger the congregation, the bigger the business. The greater the sinner, cheat or crook, if he has enough money he has nothing to worry about. All his sins would be whitewashed, paid off, his peace of mind purchased, only the amount matters, a most appropriate way to settle his earthly inconveniences, at the same time advancing an installment for the hereafter.
"By the same token, one must admit that the rich were responsible for the existence of the temple, their financial support keeping the faithful together – nevertheless, the whole setup seemed unfair to me. Maybe I am impractical, unreasonably naive, but it is still unfair.
"The same phenomenon exists in other faiths. A Gentile, a neighbor of ours, discontinued going to church for the same reason as I. Having no coin to donate, the poor unemployed bricklayer could not bear the snide remarks and the dirty stares by the priests passing the collection plates. The embarrassment caused him to leave the church.
"It is not just. I think that it is a gross abomination of everything sacred. Those places should welcome everyone, especially the poor. For this is their last resort.
"Now, I am sure you’ll agree with me, that to be a good Jew doesn’t necessarily mean one has to attend shul only. There are other factors which in a great measure contributed to the path of our destiny, our existence.
"We have a rich heritage, a treasured culture no one will take away. There is an invisible cohesiveness, a strong bond keeping us together – having a lot of help from the outside world – and no one knows it better than we.
"So, my dear boys, whether you like it or not, there is no alternative. We Jews must stick together.
"As for Jacob, don’t be harsh with him, Gershon, don’t you see he is a sensitive young man, not only a dreamer but a spirited rebel? I am already lost. If not an outspoken atheist, then at best an agnostic.
"Now, my friends, if I may say so, it was an enlightening, illuminating discussion, and if you don’t mind I propose to end it. Let’s go to Moishe’s, I am thirsty and will be happy to treat you to all the beer you can drink."
"After she recovered, she and her boyfriend insisted that I should stay. All was fine until yesterday, he got drunk again, beat my mother and threatened to kill me.
"He is a sadist, a maniac. I am afraid of him, and dread for my mother’s safety."
By the end of the week Gertrude disappeared again, most probably in search of greener pastures.
Thus another year came to an end, the dark, cloudy days intermingling with light snow and drizzle.
Chapter 34 (coming soon)
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