Yeshiva University High School For Boys - Elchanite Yearbook (New York, NY)

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The Great Expertnratinn SCHMEIL - ZEv1 was only 18, but he had earned for himself the reputa- tion of being the village jokester. And so, when Schmeil's wedding to Shari was announced, every soul in the entire village turned out in antici- pation of an hilarious and joyous time. To add to the great .s-itmcha, it was also rumored that the Emperor was nearby and that he might come and give the young couple some sort of a gift. Amidst the frolicking' gaiety, Yosef, Shari's former suitor, stepped up with a mug brimming over with wine. Come, Schmeil, drink! Show everybody you're a man. Empty the mug. Yosef's eyes gleamed mischievously and Schmeil unsuspectingly lifted the mug and drank it down in long groughts. Now for some toasts. Chosan Schmeil, welll drink some toasts. Here's to your bea.utiful wifef' Schmeil downed the wine as vigorously as before. Here's to your in-laws. May they .... And down poured the intoxicating drink. To your beloved parents. Again Schmeil drank. He was gay and laughing loudly. Shari tugged at his shirtsleeve. Look! , cried Yosef. She is trying to show who of the two will wear the plants. Come, Schmeil, yo-uire a man. Aren't you?. Here's to our wonderful villagef' Yes, I'm a man. Yes, to our village. The brimming mug was soon empty. To our country. Yes, to our country, Schmeil shouted thickly as he drank once more. To the Emperor. No, not to the Emperor. I'm a m-an. I spit on the Emperor. And Schmeil spat with gusto. You don't mean that? Why! you're just a little ...... i' I do mean it. I'm a man and I spit on the Emperorf' And again he spat. A hush fell on the assemblage. The villagers slowly drifted away. The wedding was over. -X' -X' 91- Two days later, the Emperor sent his guards to take Sc-hmeil away. Somehow he had found out. There was great mourning in the village. Many tried to console Schmeil's parents and' Shari, but in vain. Then someone spied ai lonely figure approaching the village. Schmeil had returned. He was uncombed and dissheveledg his fa.ce was drawn and his eyes were staring. The crowd opened to let the man pass. Slowly they followed him to his house. There was a deadly silence. No one spoke. Then Shari, unable to stand it any longer, whispered hoarse-ly, Schr11eil, what did he do to you? Two large tears rolled down his face. He - - he - - he spat back at me! by Harry Pinvh 9

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Finally, build up the congregation. Begin extensive campaigns if you wish to keep the synagogues alive and kicking. Give the youth a chance to run services, make speeches, organize clubs and educational and social affairs. Begin Sh-miros-Slzabbos campaigns. Get older men and Women to come and especially beg and force them to send their children to ser- vices. Forgive mistakes and misunderstandings. Explain, rather than threaten. Hold various types of classes for youth, older men, and women. Print magazines and papers. Yvake up and work to preserve our Jewish way of life. But one thing will remain foremost in our mind. We are working to foster Orthodoxy, the belief in God and Torah, the belief in the ideals set forward for us by our European brethren. With that view in mind, our compromises and innova.tions will be made in an Orthodox fashion, and Will further Orthodox traditions. ev ight by Solomon Katz How bewitching is the magic secrecy of night, The whisper of its mysterious power and might. Be parted thou glare of day with thy gaiety and bright light, For the sweet compulsions and bewilderment of night. Day is but a cheating gleam, Night a strange fascinating dream. Day, a mild penetrable sight, Night, a vast shadow full of stealth and flight. Bored am I by the garish and gaudy day, And long for the passionate silence of the night - mystic and grey. 8

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The other Max Frankel She stood still for a minute, her eyes staring without seeing at the fertile plain, her hair streaming in the breeze, her hands hanging limply at her sides. She stood there -L a Jewish woman. In one of her ha.nds, those strong hands which had done more than their share in building the Yishuv, in creating a healthy, thriving community, she clutched the little yellow slip of paper, a postal card from a former neighbor in the little Polish town in which she had spent the major part of her life. This morning, as on eve-ry o-ther morning of the last few years, she had gone out with the other women of the settlement to work on the fields. As she laid her bundles of grain on the wagon a warm feeling had surged through her toiling body. Oh, it felt good to ga.ther the fruits of the yearis hard la-bor in the land of the fathers. It gratified her to know that, per- haps cenituries ago, on the same spot on which she was standing Father Abraham might have pitched his tent, or Isaac have gazed over the rolling plain to the mountains hidden in a blue haze far to the north. Or perhaps here Jacob had assembled his twelve sons to instruct them to obey the laws of the living G -'d. She had felt joy in working in the invigorating, fresh air under the smiling, clear blue sky. She had thought that she had at long last found happiness - enduring happiness, free from worries, free from troubles . . . true contentment . . . until a few minutes ago. A few minutes ago . . . S-hmuel had come in with the mail from the nearest town, some miles away. She had seen him striding across the fields, a hulk of a man, his fiery beard and barrel chest strongly contrasted by his gentle face and quiet demeanor. Shmuel, she had signalled to him from a distance, is there anything for me? In reply he had only waved the little yellow slip of paper in the air, a smile hovering a.round his lips. I hope itis good newsf' he cried, as she, driven by curiosity, ran to meet him. I hope it's good news. But it was bad news . . . As she read all color slowly left her cheeks, a pallor spread over her face, the joy faded from her eyes. Leah, he cried in alarm, what is it? What's wrong?,' She did not answer. Instead she handed him the cardre He understood. Her neighbor had informed her that out of the 400 Jewish inhabitants of their little town some thirty were left to eke out a meager existence, the rest had' been killed by the Nazis Not one menrber of her numerous family had lived to see the downfall of the brutal enemy. Not one - not even her Yankeleh . . . Her Yankeleh . . . apple of her eye . . . her pride and joy. Oh G - dl, G - df' the voice sounded hollow in her deep anguish, oh G - d how could you let this happen? Why . . why, oh Lord?,' But not a tear dripped from the fountains of her eyes. She was beyond tears. Staring without seeing at the beautiful plain, she felt neither the warmth of the dancing sunbeams nor the beauties of the rolling wheatland or the smiling skies. -Only deep within the recesses of her heart she felt al steady throbbing, 10