Papa Will Send for Us
Memories from Sadie Liftman
as told to Barbara Feinberg

Note from Sadie Liftman’s granddaughter Sharon: As told by Sadie Liftman to Barbara Feinberg, her niece, in 1975. The text was transcribed from a copy of a document that was transmitted by fax in November 1982. Some of the text was difficult to read. I did not edit the narrative except to add words that were illegible in the document I have.

Editor’s note: Endnotes were added by genealogy researcher Lynne Tolman, whose ancestors also immigrated from Shumsk to Boston.

Preface

This is the story of Chaya, who from the ages of 4 to 11, remained in the small village of Shumsk, in the state of Wolyn, in Russia, with her mother and two sisters. They waited for their father, in the new country, to send for them. Chaya’s name was changed to Sadie when she came to the United States and entered school. These are Chaya’s true memories of her life long ago. 

“Papa Will Send for Us”

My grandparents both lost their spouses and decided to marry each other. However before they married, they betrothed his son Israel to her daughter Shifra. In that way, it was proper that they became engaged before their parents married. Shifra was 19 and Israel 20, when they married.

Israel went into the Russian army for three years. In the following years, five babies were born, but only three girls survived. The baby boy died from anemia, after profuse bleeding from his circumcision. This was not unusual in these times.

My father, Israel, supported the family by transporting goods from the city with his horse and wagon. In 1905^[1], he left Russia quickly to avoid being drafted into the Russo-Japanese war. Those who had previously served in the army were the first to be drafted. I remember riding the horse and wagon to the next town, which had a train station, to say goodbye to my father as he embarked on his journey to America. He carried my baby sister, Bessie, while my mother, older sister Annie and I bid him farewell. My father, Israel, left with the promise that as soon as he saved enough money, he would send for us to join him. My mother’s mother, who was now a widow, came to live with us.

Everyone was very poor. We lived in two and a half rooms, which was part of another house. A fireplace was in the wall between the two rooms burned wood and provided heat. The oven in the kitchen which was built high and it was heated by heavy logs. We pushed the burned logs to the side and the hot coals baked our bread. After Friday’s bread was baked, Saturday’s food, cholent, was kept warm in the remaining heat of the oven. Cholent was meat, lima beans, and prunes mixed together and browned. We tried to burn extra logs on Friday, so heat would remain on Saturday. Sometimes a non-Jewish boy would come in and light the fire on Saturday. 

I remember the beautiful gardens. Cucumbers, corn and squash grew so abundantly without any use of sprays. I believe that the winters were so cold that all insects were destroyed.

When children suddenly became ill, some people actually believed in the “evil eye.” Kaynahora means, keep the evil eye away. The doctor was rarely available for he served several towns. The doctor’s assistant, the feldsher, took care of people while the doctor was away. 

On Friday mornings, my mother started at four o’clock preparing for the Sabbath. I convinced her to always wake me up when she mixed challah. She would mix flour, salt, water and oil (sometimes eggs) and let it rise. Then, my mother would take the large wooden bowl and put it on a chair near my bed, so I could watch. Mama would buy fresh yeast from the baker and make the white challah in the brick oven. We baked in the back of the oven and cooked in the front. 

The center of town had the market stalls, and areas where peasants displayed their products. They displayed it in large earthenware jars and pots, or sometimes on the ground. Women kept warm in the cold stalls with hot cinders, from wood, burning in large pottery bowls under their skirts. People passed by, inspecting and dickering for bargains. Saturdays, the Jewish stores were closed. Sunday was a big market day. Since the land was owned only by the Russians, a dealer in town would buy up a crop in the orchard and sell to the peasants. My cousin’s family bought fruits, stored them and sold them. My cousin Itzik would come to visit us on Saturday with his pockets stuffed with plums, apples, and pears. 

The pharmacy only sold medications. Their salespeople were dressed in white. This was considered a highly respected business. The grocery store sold everything in bulk. Dried beans and peas were very popular foods. A scoop was used for measuring. There were no paper bags. The salesperson tore off some paper, made a cone shaped container and after it was filled, folded the top and bottom closed. Pieces of leather were sold to the peasants for shoes and boots. People who owned cows sold the surplus milk to neighbors who brought their containers to the farm. We had to buy our milk every day because there was no refrigeration. 

We lived near a river where we did our laundry. A heavy board extended into the water and we would stand on the board, rub the clothes with brown soap, and then slap them on the board. It was hard work to get clothes clean. The water running over the board kept it clean for others to use.

There was a flour mill, which operated on water power from the main river on a higher level. A waterfall dropped, from the mill down to our river where we washed clothes. Twice a year the main river was dammed and huge supplies of fish were scooped up in barrels and shipped to the cities. Then the mill could barely operate. The mill had the only electricity around. Most everyone used kerosene lamps and candles for light. 

My father, Israel, almost drowned where the water fell to the lower level. It was a miracle that saved him. I remember when a small boy stooped over to get a drink in the river on his way to Cheyder, and fell in and drowned. In order to find where the body was located, a candle was put in a loaf of round, hard-crusted bread. The bread floated on the top of the water and where it stopped, the body would be found. People in Shumsk interpreted that the boy drowned because God was angry with him for being cruel to his mother. His mother died in the cold and he did not try to save her. I remember everyone rushing to the rabbi’s house to hear his explanation of why this had happened. 

The very poor made money by carrying water in two buckets that were hung from their shoulders on a pole. They delivered the water to large covered barrels that were kept in houses. This water was used for cooking, washing and bathing. 

There was no free school. I only went to Cheyder to learn how to daven. Sometimes the bedfer carried the small children to school on his back. He was the errand boy. I usually walked. My father’s uncle had a grocery store and could afford to pay to send his son and daughter to school. His hunchbacked daughter was very kind to me and spent hours teaching me Russian and arithmetic.

The rabbi’s wife had no children and liked me very much. I often went to visit her and she would serve tea. A section of her cellar was lined with bricks. The floor was so deep and cold that she could keep ice there. This area was her cold storage area.

When I was 10 years old, the rebbitzen took me to Kiev on the train. All the train stations had boiling water available for tea. This was the first time I had ever been on a train. We stayed in a kosher hotel for two weeks, because the rebbitzen got an infection and had to be treated. I remember going to the doctor’s beautiful estate in a fancy carriage.

While in the hotel, I recognized a cantor who was davening with his talis on, in a small room off the kitchen. He knew my father when they were in Shumsk. He was astounded to hear that my mother hadn’t heard from my father for about a year. We later learned that my father was having a very difficult time in America. A fire had destroyed his horse and wagon, so he could not send us any money.

There was no leisure time except for Saturday. Everyone worked hard. Particularly my mother, who in addition to supporting three small girls, also supported her mother. She worked hard in the home and then walked miles to farms and villages to buy bristles for brushes and dried cereals to sell for some little profit. One day she returned home and fainted. I thought she was dead.

One Saturday, I remember walking with my friends in the government controlled forests. I was dressed in my Sabbath best. The beautiful terrained land had many, many flowers and evergreens. We went in even though the forest was patrolled by rangers. We spied some wild strawberries growing and I picked up my skirt and filled it with strawberries. When I returned home I found that my dress was ruined. I had sinned, picking on the Sabbath, and was punished.

My older sister Annie went to Ostrog, to a wealthy cousin’s house. These cousins had privileges very few Jewish people had. Annie went to work as their parlor-maid. Once I went to visit her. She was dressed so prettily in a white apron. I remember a young man polishing the floor with brushes strapped to his feet. After waxing, he polished the floors by running around. The house had a really beautiful rose garden.

At Christmas and Easter time the Jews in Shumsk remained indoors. They were afraid of arousing the anger of the anti-Semite peasants. The river was frozen for five or six months of the year. At Christmastime, the Christians cut a huge cross out of the ice. Crowds would gather and get holy water from the river, and then march through the town. It was a sin for Jews to even look at the cross.

Buildings had mostly thatched roofs with ground floor with clay-like earth. Floors were swept often and sawdust was put down to absorb the moisture. Babies were kept off the floors and in bed for a long time after birth. For these months, the babies were wrapped with wide strips of linen to keep their bodies straight.

Our neighbor was a candle maker. A large part of his house was where he dipped and made his candles. My mother’s father was a coppersmith who made candlesticks. Their name was Cooperman, from their trade. My father’s name was Landes, from the land.

I remember an important lesson my grandmother once taught me. As little as we possessed, she taught me to never envy those who had more.

There was an inn located near the rabbi’s house. The horse and wagon cold drive into the large opening, in the center of the inn. There were rooms on both sides. The owner of the Inn grew tomatoes. There were the only tomatoes that we had ever seen.

We moved to the center of town to one large upstairs room before leaving for the United Sates in 1912. It took my father seven years with constant setbacks to earn enough money for his family to join him in America.^[2] There wasn’t enough money for Grandmother, so we had to say “goodbye.” In later years, when we could, we would send her money. When we were leaving, sister Annie contracted trachoma, so she had to stay behind eleven months.

Finally, after seven years of waiting, we arrived on Ellis Island. I worried that I would not recognize my father. I was only 4 when I last saw him.

Papa did send for us.