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

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on his grave, the tombstone which tradition had taught her should be put on the graves of the loved ones to perpetuate their memories? Was there to be nothing to keep alive the memory of her Yankeleh? A sudden resolution took form in the mind of the mother . . . The neighbors at long last were rewarded by seeing the blood return into the face of Leah. Her peut-up tears found vent. She was again their Leah, but infinitely sadder, seemingly years older . . . Her Yankeleh was gone. G - d giveth and G - d takethg blessed be His name. But there were still some thirty people living, people who undoubtedly wanted to come to Eretz. She would do what Yankeleh would want her to do. She would work day and night to see that the remnants of Israel should- find a home ready for them when they arrived in the land of their fathers. She would work for the Yishuv. She would help to build it into a strong, blooming, re- spected nation. She would make her work and her deeds Yankeleh's tomb- stoneg her actions his memorial . . . And she will. te! Mun und the Microbe -A Pessimistzb F antasy- BY ARTHUR RUSENFELD The microbe and the scientist Yvere walking hand in hand Among the dusty skeletons 'The time has comef' the microbe said For you to learn at last That your human race is very young, Of a once great reptile band. And hasn't long to last. Thus, arm in arm, they walked that day, Our advent on this earthly scene Until they came to a stand. Was much further in the past. :Before the dinosaur exhibit My ancient microbe ancestor In a great museum hall, YVas there on that fateful days 'Midst racks and heaps and piles of bones. When the last giant dinosaur And skeletons on the wall. hfet his fate - and passed away. Can you believef, the scientist said. Those reptiles lost their rule of Earth, That these beasts once ruled all? And now you men hold sway. 12

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pounding, of all-consuming pain, of indescribable agony . . . The women gathered around her. What is wrong, Leah? Why don't you cry? . . . Do cry. It will do you goodf' Come Leah, let us go from the fields . . Go home and lie down and have a good cry. She was insensible to all that was happening around her. She heard neither the advice of her co-workers, nor their heart-rending sobs. With- out realizing that she was moving she was slowly led by her friends to her cabin, the card still clutched in her hand . . . She was completely si- lent. Not a groan, not a sob, not a sigh, not a single sound passed over her lips, her sensitive lips, so strongly etched in the marble of her face . . . Her mind was racing. Yankeleh. Yankeleh . . . Yankelehl' she thought over and over again. Yankeleh, darling of my heart, more precious than my life, why were you taken from me? The mother's mind spanned countries and oceans, it skipped back over the intervening years to that day when she had last seen her Yankeleh, her sturdy, strap-ping son . . . She had planned for a long time to emigrate to Palestine and had wanted him to come with her. He, however, refused to leave his friends and neighbors and finally convinced her that it was his duty to stay in Poland where he could in his small way help to undermine the Nazi structure from within. Besides,'l he told her in his hearty voice there are other people who need the immigration certificates in-ore than I do. Let them have my certificate, ni-other, I'll manage somehow. She gave in to Yankeleh, admiring without end his generosity and intrepidity . . . And so the day of their parting had arrived. Yankeleh had refused to come to the Railway station with his mother. Parting at a station where one could see the train rolling away into the world to be swallowed hy the horizon was too final and decisive for him. He said good-bye to her at the door of their little house, reassuring her that it would not be long when, G - d willing, they would be together again. She had leit him comforted and full of hope. Wlhen she stopped a few paces from the house to take a last look at the home in which she had spent so many happy hours, she saw Yankeleh leaning out of the window, waving to her, and shouting i'L'hit- raoth B'eretz Israelf' 9 She drove the thought from her mind. It was too painful. ller mind, in painting the scene with such precision and accuracy, had only given her heart an additional stab . . . But the th-oughts would not be banished. Over and over, faster and faster. the thoughts took hold of her wandering ntind. Her brain teemed with half-baked, inco-mplete ideas . . . lf only she knew where his body found eternal rest . . . If only she could have an idea of how the end came . . . And her family! What of her family? . . , G - d, the pain is too great, how can one mourn for a whole family at a time? . . She would have to sit shivah. How does one sit shivah for a. whole mishp-aeha? . . . The thoughts came and went. One. however, took strong hold of her mind. VVhere did Yankeleh find his eternal resting place? iYhere was his grave? And perhaps it was better that she should not know. for the knowledge would always keep the wound fresh .... 5 Ks if she could ever forget him! . . But then, how was she to place the matzewa, the tombstone Il

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But many ages further back, When Earth was young and new, My first ancestor then was born, And grew, and split, and' grew - Until an army of my race Ruled Earth - as we've a right to do. We may have seemed to yield our throne To younger races. But we know That these new races will not last. Each one must some day go. And do you think, oh scientist, That for m-an 'twill not be so!', The human race, that man replied, 'Has more strength than all of these. Now some were killed by cold and frost, Still others, by disease. But our machines keep off these plagues. They'll not conquer us with ease! A little lump inside my head, A group of cells called 'brainf Keeps me from sharing their cruel fate, And saves me from their pain. You beasts are right. You've never lost But we shall win - we gain. We've gained this kingdom in our turn, But not merely to wait Until it is our turn to fall. VVe prepare before it's too late. We won't follow the dinosaur - WE WILL MASTER FATE!!! 'X' I 'lf A million years had passed. A man - - The last one of his race - - Sat musing on his unkind fate And on his own sad case. As he sat thus, a microbe came To that forsaken place. I know, it said, of what took place In that hall long ago, Vllhere man and microbe walked, talked And what they said you also know. I ask you now: can human pride Withstand fate's strongest blow? You are a fool, the man replied, To speak in such a way Wlhen you know what my race has done To your race in its day. We killed all those who barred our path VVhile we ALONE held sway. You must have slept through all this time Because you do not know, How in our glory, we alone lVere rulers - - all else had to go. How you survived I know not, but You are the sole remaining foe. Thus spoke the man - and with one blow He crushed that foe of men. But age had sapped his strength, and so He fell, and never rose again: But murmured this, before he died And passed beyond our mortal ken: That scientist of old was right: Man does win in the end. Wle may have fallen, like all else, But with us foe and friend Have also fallen. None remain For our throne to contend. IVe mastered Earth - - we ruled the world- And then we lost our throne. But we did not yield to some beast. IYe fell, and died, ALONE. I now die happy, knowing that Eartlfs history is forever done.