[Zeitzeugen] [Gedenken] [Geschichte und Diskurs] [Erinnerung] [Nationalsozialismus] [Entschädigung] [Webausstellungen] [Suchformulare] [Literatur]

Wir versuchen auf diesen Seiten alle Dienste kostenlos anzubieten und sind somit auf Unterstützung angewiesen, denn leider wird haGalil im Rahmen der Bundesmittel zur Bekämpfung von Rechtsextremismus und Antisemitismus, trotz mehrfacher leitlinien-konformer und fristgerechter Antragstellung, in keiner Weise unterstützt. Wir müssen Sie deshalb bitten, haGalil auch weiterhin mit Ihrer ganz persönlichen Spende zu unterstützen. Schon zwanzig Euro helfen, haGalil zu erhalten; wenn's zweihundert sind, finanzieren Sie die Information für weitere Leser gleich mit.

haGalil e.V., Münchner Bank BLZ 701 900 00, Konto Nr. 872 091.
Sie finden weitere Angaben zu Überweisungen aus dem Ausland, zu Lastschriftverfahren, Spendenquittungen etc. auf den Seiten des haGalil e.V..


Entrance haGalil
Search haGalil
Jahaduth: Jüdische Religion
Jüd. Kalender
Forum Judaicum
Spenden Sie mit PayPal - schnell, kostenlos und sicher!
By Shlomo Graber
From Hungary to Israel through Auschwitz-Birkenau, Fünfteichen and Görlitz.
A Jewish family history from 1859 through 2001


My mother

My mother, Anna Silber was born on 15.December 1898 in Majdan, Karpatorussia. (See page 131). She married on 2.August 1925 in the Hungarian town of Sátoraljaújhely her five years younger betrothed, Moses Graber. She was a tall, slender woman with blue eyes. She always took a headscarf in accordance with the orthodox Jewish custom, and on Sabbath or festival days her well tended wig, the Sheitel. During World War I she lived in Majdan.

When she was 17, she lost her mother in the tragic railroad accident described before. It was her duty to look after the family from that time onward.
When she moved to Nyirbátor, she had communication and adjustment difficulties at first. Her Yiddish was different from the one spoken in Hungary. Only a few people understood her Polish accent. But she soon got over the difficulties; my mother spoke Russian, Ukrainian, Yiddish, German, Czech and Hungarian. On certain occasions, she was asked to act as an interpreter. Nyirbátor had a number of Bulgarian gardeners living there who laid out vegetable gardens and grew locally unknown vegetable varieties. They sold their produce on the Thursday market. As they did not understand Hungarian, they were very pleased if mother turned up to assist them as an interpreter. As a reward, she received a basketful of vegetables free of charge.
Just like her father, my mother too had artistic talents. The results of some of her efforts were on display in our home. A framed picture could be seen I the bedroom. It represented two doves painted on a black lacquered glass perching on a twig. Their outlines were filled in with shiny chocolate wrappers in various colors. Artificial flowers made by her were displayed I flower pots. Framed tapestries quoting wise sayings in Czech language were displayed on the walls. I still remember some of them, such as: “Ruka ruku myje” (One hand is washing the other) “Komu se neleni, tomu se zeleni” (Idleness does not make your garden green) For Sukkoth, she prepared colored paper stars, to decorate the Sukkoth tent, and she suspended birds made of eggshells from the roof, with wings and tails made from colored paper strips.

On a certain occasion I had to stay away from the school for a few days as I was sick. My mother wrote an excuse to the melamed in Yiddish whereas in Hungary the women almost never wrote in Yiddish. The teacher asked me who wrote that letter. I replied, my mother. He flew into a rage and tore up the letter of excuse in shreds and yelled: “How can a woman dare to write to a melamed in such manner?” On another occasion, a fire started at the Nyirbátor banking corporation’s building. The slabs of slate that were used to cover the roof were flying in every direction, like firework. I was hardly six years old at that time. My mother rushed in to the Talmud-Thora School in desperation, covered me in a plaid she brought along and took me in her arms. She ran along with me amidst the glowing shingles. The memory of this image is fixed in my memory forever.

I’ll always remember the hours of twilight at the end of a winter Sabbath as well. My mother sat with us on the bed standing in the kitchen. To drive away our fear caused by the growing darkness, she told us tales and legends in Yiddish or real events from her own childhood. She also sang Yiddish songs such as “Margeriten”, “In the Temple”, “A fire is glowing in the oven”. We loved these homely hours and were sad when they came to an end. Before the Separation Blessing she recited a prayer that women used to say in Yiddish at the going out of the Sabbath. In that prayer she asked God of Abraham, Isaak and Jakob now that the Sabbath has come to and end to protect the People of Israel from all evil and to bless every true believer with a good week, a good month and a good year.

Although my mother was religious, her religious observance had its limits and especially she did not accept any commands. My grandfather Reb Abraham Eliezer had occasionally attempted to interfere with our religious upbringing and demanded more “Jewish ness”. But my mother guarded her independence in these matters. Her rules defined fore example: temple locks (payers) no longer than the lobe of the ear; standard dresses instead of orthodox-Jewish attire. My mother did not accept any regulations in her choice of books to read either. She used to read the books of Shalom Asch 37) whose writings were forbidden in orthodox circles, even his book, The Nazarene. Mostly it was I to pick up her books from the lending library. She wanted us to have general knowledge and a good trade so that we’d be prepared for the immigration to Israel.

As a “Yiddisher Mamma“ she looked after us to have enough to eat. She fortified us with spinach, cod liver oil and what else, I don’t know. She was especially worried about the late development of my growth of beard. She wanted to see me growing up quicker.

All her hopes and efforts were directed to see us developing a large, well-established family and enjoying the company of her grandchildren I Erez Israel. The Nazis and their allied prevented the realization of her dreams. Mother, what I have to tell you today is this:

Mother, much to my sorrow you have no grave with a proper grave-stone I would be able to visit, It is still weighing on my mind that at that time, at the “selection” in Auschwitz you were separated from me in the chaos. You were dragged away from me without a word of farewell. I see you and the children hanging on to you, frightened to lose you in the turmoil. for ever. You moved away and I followed you with my eyes, until you disappeared. I did not know at that time that you went on your last way.
Mother, unfortunately I was unable to hold you a funeral speech and to express my love to you. I loved you more than anything else in this world. You were to me the “Yiddische Mamme” and more. I would gladly offer some years from my own life if I could see you again for just one second.
I shudder at thinking at your last walk and the Hob’s sufferings upon your entry to the gas chambers. Whenever I hear the song “Yiddische Mamme” , the song they wrote for me, I get goose-pimples and I’d like to cry.

If I could stand at your grave I’d sing for four you a song we sang together and which represents your character:

“Who’ll find an able woman? She is more valuable than pearls
She is good to him, never bad, all her life long…
Honor and shine is her attire
She laughs as she thinks of the future
Her mouth she opens with wisdom, her tongue transmits kindness
Many able women exist but you surpass them all.”

37) 1880-1957, Jewish writer of short stories, playwright


Shlomo Grabers Erinnerungen: Die Erfahrung des Todes


Jüdische Weisheit
Die bei haGalil onLine und den angeschlossenen Domains veröffentlichten Texte spiegeln Meinungen und Kenntnisstand der jeweiligen Autoren. Sie geben nicht unbedingt die Meinung der Herausgeber bzw. der Gesamtredaktion wieder.

Kontakt: hagalil@hagalil.com
haGalil - Postfach 900504 - D-81505 München

1995-2006 © haGalil onLine® bzw. den angeg. Rechteinhabern
Munich - Tel Aviv - All Rights Reserved
haGalil onLine - Editorial