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The whole time I was in America I always dreamt
of revisiting my Libivne to see my family again; to
walk again in the shtetl where I had taken my first
steps as an infant.
As ill fortune would have it, the dream that
I and others had cherished for so long had
vanished. The cities and towns of our former homes
lie in ruins together with their inhabitants, and
among them all my dearest and nearest. And
instead of a happy reunion with those I love, I am
now writing my memoirs for a Memorial Book.
Oh, how my heart aches!
On Pesach Eve
The pre-Passover hubbub was in full swing
on Kusnishtcher Street. Matzos were being baked
in the home of Rochl the Black One.
Her entire apartment consisted of three tiny
rooms. The beds were taken out and people slept
on the floor temporarily, while the apartment
was converted into a matzo bakery.
The hot air generated by the ovens could be
felt outside. The perspiring valgerins (those who
rolled out the dough) with their calloused hands
were, as usual, singing as they worked.
Each time a new matzo order came in, the
baker sifted the flour for this batch, then the
customers would wish the mistress a happy
holiday, may she live till next year. Blessings
were pouring out like flour from the flour sacks.
The baked matzos were tied in bedsheets and a
wooden bar was inserted into the knot, so that
two porters could carry it on their shoulders. The
mistress walked in front of the porters, praying
that nothing, God forbid, happen to the load, as it
did occasionally happen, when the knot untied
and plop, it all went into the mud! The porters had
TYPES AND SCENES
By Efrayim Lerner
189
to be veritable acrobats to bring their load to its
destination all in one piece. And for this they were
tipped handsomely!
The "koshering" of the pots and pans could be
done in the public baths. For a few groshen, the
bath-attendant would dip the tied-together dishes
into big vats that were filled with water kept
boiling by big heated rocks, and this made the pot
kosher for Passover. The Jews brought to the
baths only the big utensils. The small ones, like
small pans and silverware, were koshered at
home, in the courtyard, with neighbors working
together. Big pots stood outside on huge tripods
with fire under them and a thick steam from the
boiling water rising from the pot. The people would
tie the utensils together and dip them in the boiling
water, to make them kosher for Passover.
Besides making the utensils kosher, the women
also tried to hide their old, beat-up, everyday
kitchen utensils, to hide their non-Passover poverty,
such as boards used to make noodles, breadbaking
paraphernalia, kotsibes (oven pokers), rolling
pins, etc.things that could not be made
kosher in boiling water. They were brought into
an unused room and locked up, and everything
was now ready to greet the holiday with a kosher
Pesach!
Moyshe Konyuch (Moyshe the Horse-Dealer)
Moyshe Konyuch lived in a small house that
stood in a big courtyard near a big horse stable.
The horses disturbed everyone day and night
with their neighing.
They were three brothers: Moyshe, Sender,
and Shaye. All three resembled each other. They
even dressed alike. And when I write about
Moyshe, I really mean all of them.