Trafika Europe 12 - French Bon-Bons

A Souvenir from New York

that his brother in Gomel was working as a foreman, unloading ships at night , and he’s not the kind of man to leave a countryman in the lurch. You know, Gotynyu, what it’s like to work at night and to study during the day? Ichile never missed a chance to send us some money whenever anyone would go to Gomel. Oh, Gotynyu , how we cried, Etta and me, when Stepan, Darya’s son, came back from Gomel and told us how Ichile fainted from hunger in the street! And all the while he was writing to us: Do not worry, parents, all is well, I’m well fed and well shod, do not worry. Oh, Gotynyu, that’s what all of them are like, my sons! Etta always screams that they take after me. “You never tell me,” she screams, “when things are bad! The others, even if they just got some booboo on their finger--the whole town hears of it, but in our family I’m the last one to get the news!” But, Gotynyu, does screaming help? Bad for her, bad for us. But that’s how we are: my youngest, Haim, he’s just six, but he won’t take an extra crust of bread from me: dad, he says, you’re so big, you need to eat more. Oh, Gotynyu, what will happen to him? Yesterday, when it became dark, Akulina, our former neighbor, came running: “Shloyme, she says, today I was washing floors in the elder’s house, and I heard, with my own ears, that tomorrow they would gather all the Jews in the stables


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