The Denver Jewish news., 1924-05-22
In the Days of Doubt
and Longing

Friday night. Malken had Just light
ed the candles, and stood looking
mournfully thru the small. frozen vim
dows. A blizzard had come up at
twilight; and the wind threw oceans
of snow on the little, rickety house
which was almost half-buried in it.
A knock, and the door opened heav
lily. A gust of snowy wind blew in a
small figure, huddled in shawls. Good
evening. Stacia; l am glad you came.
1t was getting so dreary here with that
wind howling like wolf in the chin
neyl" Mallieh helped to unwrap her
neighbor's numerous shawls.
Some Storm. remarked Stacia,
throwing off her last shawl, and sitting
herself near the oven.
My oven didn't burn well today"
said Malkeh, pointing to her Sabbath
bread on the table. ''The bread is
spoiled
Better luck next time, Mallieh.
Have you received any n-n," she falter-
ed, "any news from them?"
Malkeh shook her head tearfully as
she picked up book of prayers. That
always ended their conversation. \
deep, naggins silence crept into the
small room. Malkeh sat motonless,
looking through dim eyes at her Sab
bath prayers. Stacia's head sank low
er and lower on her breast.
"They," Moishele and Vanka, were
hundred of miles away from them. The
war had robbed these two widowed
mothers of their only trcasures-their
children Moishele and Vanka were
always friends. Though Jew and Gen
tile, yet that never mattered to these
young men. Together they played as
children. Together they went to school
and Gimnazie, and together they went
to war. Since their children were
taken from them a closer bond of
friendship grew up between Malkeh
and Stacia.
Malkeh's small, straw rooted house
was located near the MolevitZa-the
Gentiles' quarters of the city-and in
appearance it largely rcsembled its
neighbors. For years Stacia did Nal
kehs washing, while Malkch did all
of Stacia's sewing. vanka and his
mother were so familiar with their
neighbors that they could almost I'M
derstand and speak Yiddish to perfec-
tion. At least, the Jewish town ravcd
l,n S,nl-n tbpir
language; and both mother and son
became the towns Gentle favorites.
For years these two mothers had
hoped in vain for some tidings Of their
children. Again and again they went
to the postofiice, hoping for news;
again and again they returned tear
fully home. At last they ceased ask
ing. Whenever the word letter" was
something tore in their
hearts. And tonight Stacia had again
asked that question:,
Malkeh was not praying. Her heart
was being tortured with visions of by
gone happy days. ...
Friday night. The candles are burn
ing merrily in the silver candlcsticks.
The table is spread with n snow white
cloth. and the Saffron challahs are
bathing in the golden light of the can
dies. Malkeh puts the wine on the
table. Moishcle will soon be home
from the Synagog.
"A good sabbath to you. Mamale."
7 hi in, n
"A good year to you, my SON"
Malkeh runs mp to kiss him on the
forehead. Then the well spiced fish
are put on the table. followed by the
golden soup; and McisheIc is unable
to cease praising his mothers fish.
"A Sabbath angel must have cooked
them for you, Mother" he laughs mer-
rily. his dark eyes dancing with golden
sabbath candles, as he gently caresses
his radiant mother.
"The angels knew you would be
home from school, laughs Malkeh,
lets take some in to Stacia. Vanka
will he delighted"
All right, llttle Mdllli, we Sllll
And Moishelc catches Mama, fish and
all in his young. strong arms, and
carries her across to his neishbor, in
spite of her struggling protests.
The mother is lost in her visions and
does not notice Stacia's tears. Stacia
seated by the oven had been dreaming
of her son. Suddenly, she feels his
hands on her eyes. Hey. Mamush
ka," laughs Nanka, what do you sup
pose I brought you from the market
today
Don't know, son. surely 1 don't
know"
Guess" challenges the mischievous
Vana.
nyr