Shabbos
Rutka walked briskly through the slowly darkening streets. As Rutka reached her own neighborhood the streets became dirtier and poorer looking, so did the people. Many people spoke Yiddish. With the groups of yeshiva bokhers and men in black hats or shtreimels walking to the nearest Shul, the groups of secular young Zionists and Bundists arguing in Yiddish over the ideals of communism and Jewish self determination on the steps of tenement buildings as Shabbos grew nearer, it could almost have been Poland or Russia rather than the center of London.
Rutka entered her house just as her father was leaving for the shul.
"Gut Shabbos Rutkele" he said in his deep kind voice and he kissed her on the forehead. "Gut Shabbos Tayte" Rutka replied smiling.
Rutka entered the kitchen where her mother was cleaning and setting the table, preparing to light the Shabbos candles as soon as Tayte returned. Rutka kissed her mother on the cheek and reached for a stack of plates. "Let me Mame," her mother turned to her and saw how tired her daughter looked, there was a sadness about her. "No, Rutkale you sit, you look as though you've had a very long day. Is the work so hard?" Golda poured a cup of tea for Rutka from the large samovar on the sideboard and began to set the plates on the table. "No Mame, it isn't so hard. The young lady is quite kind. But today, the new family I work for had such terrible news. They came to London because the son was wounded overseas and brought home to recover. Apparently his injuries were much worse than they were initially told. They say he's permanently crippled. The young lady was beside herself, poor thing." Little Gabi who had been playing on the kitchen floor hopped up and hugged his big sister. "I will never be hurt for you Rutka. I will fight off everything! Even the Cossacks!" Rutka laughed and picked him up, hugging his little body tight. Gabi was the baby of the family, barely four years old, he hadn't even been born when they had left Russia. "You won't be fighting anything Gabi, I won't let you!" She said, kissing his dark curls. Golda had finished setting the table and sent Gabi tell his siblings to wash for the Shabbos meal. Golda sat across from her daughter, stirring sugar into her own cup of tea. "This war," she sighed "this horrible war."
"I know," Rutka replied. She sat silently for a few minutes then asked the question which she had feared to ask. "Do we know if Yitzhak is fighting? Have you heard anything from him?" Her mother shook her head slowly. "I don't know if he would even be allowed to say if he was in a letter. And we haven't heard from him since before Pesachzeit, I think we have to assume he is. The Tzar always did like to send Jewish boys first." Rutka breathed out heavily, she had known this was the likely answer but hadn't wanted to accept it. Her mother took her hand and smiled a reassuring smile which did not reach her eyes. "Our Yitzhak is strong, he'll make it. And when the war is over we will bring him here. And Malka too, nu I can't leave my grandchildren in Russia can I?" Rutka smiled, tracing the rim of her tea cup with one finger and murmured "Fun zayn moyl in Gots oyer- from your lips to God's ears."
Rutka's father and Bar Mitzvah aged brothers, 16 year old Chaim and 13 year old Dovid, came in through the thin wooden door several minutes later, their fingers brushing the iron of the mezuzah on the door post. She heard the click of Chaim's crutches against the wooden floor as he entered the flat and thought of Mary's cousin, the poor man would face many trials, she knew. Rutka, her mother and her sisters had finished lighting the Shabbos candles in their beautiful brass holders, which her mother had smuggled under her skirt all the way from Kishinev, to Warsaw and finally, to London. They were reclining around the dining table waiting to begin the meal. The family sat around the table and Rutka's father filled the kiddush cup until it overflowed with sweet red wine. After he recited the ancient words the family drank, then they turned to the two golden loaves of beautifully braided challah. When the ritual washing of the hands was completed her father lifted the bread and recited the benediction "Baruch ata Adonai hamotzi lechem min haaretz" he broke off a large piece and passed it around. The family ate the warm bread. After this a beaming Mrs. Ludtke distributed bowls of chicken soup with soft, light knaidlach floating in them. Later she brought out a perfectly golden potato kugel and a tray of hearty chicken. By the end of the meal Rutka felt sleepy and contented. She sipped hot tea as she rested her head on her father's shoulder from her seat next to him. He patted her head lovingly. The warmth of family filled her and she tried to push aside the worries and fears of war. Wherever they were, the rest of her family will have lain down their work for the day of rest. She could only pray that they were safe and warm, at least through what would no doubt be a cold Russian night.
Note that within the family they are speaking Yiddish, the general Jewish community of the East End in the early 1900s would frequently speak Yiddish among themselves.
Yiddish Glossary
Yeshiva bokhers: young men who study Torah
Shtreimel: the round fur hat worn on special occasions by certain hasidic men
Shabbos/Gut Shabbos: the Jewish day of rest from Friday night to Saturday night. Literally 'good sabbath,' a sabbath greeting
Tayte: father or papa
Shul: synagogue
Pesachzeit: literally Passover time. The period of preparation for Passover and the 8 days of the Passover holiday.
Hamotzi: the Hebrew prayer before eating bread. Roughly translates to 'blessed is the lord our G-d, who makes wheat products.