In the year 1940, many children were evacuated from their homes in the major towns of Britain to escape the impending bombing onslaught of the Nazi German Luftwaffe. Among them were many Jewish children who found themselves having to find ways to maintain their Jewish culture within a Christian environment. In these Days of Awe, I thought you might like to see that it could be done, as is demonstrated by this light-hearted story extracted from my book "From Here to Obscurity"
"That autumn, the blackberries grew with profusion in the countryside hedgerows. Yulus has always, ever since that year, associated blackberries with Yom Kippur, the Jewish fast day that lasts twenty-five hours from dusk of one day until after dark of the next. Pre-Barmitzvah boys are under no obligation to fast, but their virility was often measured by the length of time they could maintain the fast. Hail to those who could fast for the whole period, no easy task for a twelve year-old. Yulus was determined to pass the test. He explained the importance of this day in the Jewish calendar to the grandmother. All Jews fast on this day, he said. It was good for the soul. He asked her to provide him with an early supper that night. She willingly complied with his request, not really believing that this plump short-trousered boy with socks falling about his ankles, would, or could go without food for such a long period even though it was good for the soul. That evening, when he returned home after the Yom Kippur eve Kol Nidre religious service in the Conservative Club Hall that was serving as a Synagogue, she offered him his usual hot cocoa drink. He politely refused, not tonight thank you, he said as he went upstairs to bed. Next morning he also refused breakfast. What, no breakfast? she exclaimed as he left the house for the Synagogue, but you will be home for lunch? Again he explained that the fast would last until dark that day. It doesn't seem right, she said, for a young boy to go without food or drink for such a long time. If that's his religion, said the grandfather, you should not interfere. Still, she said, twenty five hours is a long, long time. She was truly concerned and had visions of the boy collapsing in the street with all the other evacuees and being carted off to hospital. And then people would think the village hadn't been feeding the boys properly. Twenty-five hours without food, she kept repeating, nodding her head in disbelief. After the morning service, the boys had free time before the combined afternoon and evening religious services began. They ventured out into the countryside. The sun was shining brightly even though autumn was in the air. The blackberries were as ripe as they would ever be. By the next day they would be overripe. Those deep, deep purple berries cried out to be eaten. This temptation of Satan had to be resisted, and yet...... The boys went into a huddled conference and came out with a decision. The blackberries could be picked, but not eaten until the fast was over. A basket was collected from one of the billets and soon filled to capacity. No-one, on his absolute honour, ate one berry. Not one even licked the purple juice from his fingers. They marched back to the Conservative Club and placed the basket in a vacant room, out of sight, although hardly out of mind. When the final religious service was over and darkness had fallen, the boys purchased a loaf of bread, sliced it and broke their fast with the most delicious blackberry sandwiches ever, ever tasted. You must be starving, said the grandmother, when Yulus arrived home. Not really, he said, with the tell-tale purple signs of blackberry juice that he had omitted to wipe away, still visible around the edges of his mouth. I did it, he exclaimed triumphantly. I fasted for the whole twenty-five hours! I never thought it was possible, said the grandmother as she served Yulus with a hot supper. That's real food, she said relieved to find him still on his two feet. I expected you to be carried home, she said with a measure of awe at the power of religious practice and the resilience of the young." I wish you and your family and all Safranim, a happy, healthy and peaceful year. Yoel Sheridan <mailto:[EMAIL PROTECTED]>[EMAIL PROTECTED] www.tenterbooks.com Messages and opinions expressed on Hasafran are those of the individual author and are not necessarily endorsed by the Association of Jewish Libraries (AJL) =========================================================== Submissions for Ha-Safran, send to: Hasafran @ lists.acs.ohio-state.edu SUBscribing, SIGNOFF commands send to: Listproc @ lists.acs.ohio-state.edu Questions, problems, complaints, compliments;-) send to: galron.1 @ osu.edu Ha-Safran Archives: Current: http://www.mail-archive.com/hasafran%40lists.acs.ohio-state.edu/maillist.html History: http://www.mail-archive.com/hasafran%40lists.acs.ohio-state.edu/history.html AJL HomePage http://www.JewishLibraries.org
