All those we were born long time
after Shoah will never know how the world of shtetls looked like. We have pictures some
distant memories but not a direct contact with the practical and sentimental
geography of those places. We will know nothing how it is to live with the fear
of pogroms and what was the charm of the little stiebls, the smell of preparations for Shabbat and the quiet 25 hours thereafter.
Nothing about how to grow up in
this world, the emotion of going to the heder for the first time and where you
can find the resources for fighting the overwhelming poverty. We grew up in a
self sufficient world where we took everything for granted and refused to rely
on anything else but ourselves. But this is never too late for second chances.
This is what I was thinking
about while reading Sholem Aleichem’s Jewish Children.
