The Sabbath, Holidays and Holy Days   

An extract from the book Amol in Rassein (Once Upon a Time in Rassein)

(C) 1976 - George M. D. Wolfe. Reproduced here with permission

“The weekly observance of Shabbes (Sabbath), not so much as a religious ritual, but as a refreshing change in every aspect of daily living, was a welcome event for me. I interpreted the Biblical injunction, "Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy: six days shalt thou labor, and do all thy work, but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God," to mean that, being free of school and following the required attendance in the synagogue,  I could join my friends in enjoyable rambles in the orchards and fields adjoining the town, play games in daylight, slide over ice fields in the winter and pick vegetables surreptitiously in the summer.

The Sabbath transformed the busy life of Rassein, and although I sometimes resented the unnatural calm of the day, I sensed that the Jewish inhabitants of all classes were changed in dress, speech, movement and manner of greeting. From what I could see and hear, preparations for the Sabbath began in the middle of the week in the talk of expected guests, plans for new dishes and some special synagogue observance. Active preparations started early Friday morning when I was awakened by the activity in the kitchen adjoining my bed. In anticipation of the coming.

Sabbath and early dismissal from school, there was more restlessness and turmoil than usual in the crowded schoolroom. During the brief summer season my friends and I made a dash for the swimming hole and returned just in time to dress and join the male members of my family in the walk to the synagogue for the Sabbath eve service. When outdoor bathing was not possible, I would go from school to a kind of Turkish bath (also, I believe, the site of the town's Mikva or ritual bath) for the only complete washing of the week. When I was home ill on a Friday I observed how thoroughly the house was cleaned by our regular and special maids assisted by my sisters. All activity stopped by the time my mother ushered in the Sabbath (referred to as "the Queen of the week" and "the Bride") by blessing the candles set out in the dining room at sunset. Without knowing very much about the considerable body of tradition and legend regarding the lighting of the candles on the eve of Sabbath, I was always glad to see my mother standing quietly at the end of the dining room" table looking more relaxed than she did at any time during her busy workweek.

The Sabbath morning service lasted the entire forenoon and prompted children to absent themselves for short periods on one excuse or another. It was risky to play just outside the synagogue since one could be observed, but the area leading to the outhouse was relatively safe, if malodorous. The outhouse itself was heavily used and avoided by me as much as possible, especially after it was reported that an old man had fallen into one and had to be rescued. Whatever the excuse for absenting oneself from the service for brief periods, it was always expected that we would return for the conclusion of the morning service, which seemed to take place in a festive mood in anticipation of the main Sabbath meal and a measure of freedom in the afternoon”.

……..

“Guests were often present at the noon meal and it was customary to invite relatives and friends for tea and cake during the afternoon of the Sabbath. Strangers invited to the Friday evening meal usually returned the next day, too.

Following the meal my parents retired for their siesta. I was free to join my friends on excursions, walks on Apothecary or Senator sky Street where all of the photographic shops were located, or to engage in outdoor games. I was expected to return in the early afternoon to accompany my parents on visits to relatives or on walks to the outskirts of the town. When guests came to our house I would frequently accompany a Christian boy to fetch hot water at a central dispensary for tea. The Sabbath ended at sundown with an informal home religious service. I always experienced a sense of sadness at twilight as the atmosphere began to change from peace to busy preparations for the week ahead. I did not look forward to school and I also felt that my parents' usual anxieties about the store, family and the future made themselves evident as the Sabbath ended.

The Jewish New Year had no special significance for me, perhaps because of a poorly developed time sense. When I was nine or ten I was able to witness the observance of the Christian New Year in the Klub and was much impressed by the colorful pageantry, dress and sense of celebration. Yom Kippur was notable because of the required fasting and the daylong attendance in the synagogue. I enjoyed the experience of fasting, which made me feel older than my years and I waited impatiently for the modest feast at the end of the holy day to break the fast. The day had a rhythm of its own, characterized by the ups and downs of the adults' energy as they passed the entire day in the synagogue standing or sitting, occasionally using smelling salts, and for the most part engaging in active prayer. When not too strictly observed, I would leave our pew or location in the synagogue as frequently as I could manage and play outdoors discreetly. Occasionally I would visit my mother in the "weibershe shul", the balcony reserved for women worshippers, to use her smelling salts even though I did not really feel faint. The day seemed endless and I waited for the conclusion of the service at sunset when the spirits of the worshippers seemed to revive and friends greeted each other with a sense of relief. As soon as the service was concluded, my friends and I rushed to one of the fancy bakeries which opened its doors to sell the delicious pastries baked before the holy day and then came home for the after fast spread. There was a family exchange on the experience of fasting, but once out of the synagogue there was no discussion of the significance of Yom Kippur and its emphasis on spiritual stock taking.

The holidays which followed Rosh Hashonoh and Yom Kippur were lighter in mood and always had some element of fun, and besides required less sustained attendance in the synagogue. On the fifth day after Yom Kippur we began to celebrate Succos (the Festival of Tabernacles), which was in marked contrast to the two holy days. The purpose, much less the history, of holidays and festivals were not explained to me, but I probably learned of their significance in school and from hearsay at home and in the community. Succos was a form of thanksgiving for the bounty of the land, which I took to be ancient Israel, when Jews farmed the soil as described in the Bible. An additional purpose of the festival was to remind us of the time the ancient Hebrews, fleeing in the wilderness, lived in temporary shelters. Some families in Rassein erected a small succoh (booth or pergola) adjoining their homes for the celebration. Our succoh was built into our house and was formed by raising the roof of the entrance hall. I helped my father raise the roof and decorate the beams with tree branches and fruit available at the time. We had our main meal in the succoh which had the aspect of camping out. I felt sad when the time came for dismantling the succoh and I took it upon myself to watch the contraption through the year for leaks or breaks.

Simchas Torah (the day of rejoicing in the law) was a festival observed on the ninth and final day of Succos. During this holiday the synagogue became a very lively place as the holy scrolls (Torah) were removed from the sacred Ark and carried by male members around the Bema (pulpit). I was always pleased to see the congregation in a relatively festive mood. Chanukah, which came in December and commemorated the rededication of the Temple by Judas Maccabaeus, was eagerly anticipated by me, not only because of the intrinsic meaning of the festival and its associated ceremonials and practices, but also because it came at a time when winter was now well established and could be enjoyed outdoors. School attendance was relaxed during the eight day duration of Chanukah, which was perhaps the greatest attraction of the celebration for me. I was, of course, thoroughly familiar with the Book of Maccabees which told of the Jewish revolt against the heathen under the leadership of Judas Maccabaeus and the rededication of the Temple by burning a cruse of oil which lasted eight days. The ceremony of lighting the Chanukah candles each night was a joyous occasion and prepared the ground for soliciting small gifts of coin from parents and older siblings.

Change was badly needed to play the then to me fascinating gambling game using a dreidel, a kind of top with four sides marked with Hebrew letters nun, gimel, hay, and shin, the initial letters of the Hebrew words - "a great miracle took place there.” These letters also referred to the Yiddish words nem (take), gib (give), halb (half), and shtell (put). I learned to fashion my own dreidel by making a frame consisting of four pieces of wood somewhat hollowed out, in each of which the appropriate letter was carved in the proper order. The parts of the frame were then tied together firmly and molten lead cast in an opening at the top. Going back to school full time after the eight day spree was a great let down.

Keen disappointment at the swift passing of this memorable festival was tempered by my knowledge that Passover (Pesach) would soon be underway, further signalling the approach of spring. No other holiday seemed to require such extensive advance arrangements as Pesach, which generally occurs in April. Religious precept and tradition commanded that the entire dwelling be cleaned, refurbished and renewed for the coming eight day celebration of the ancient Israelites' deliverance from slavery in Egypt. Every female member of our family, including our live-in maid and occasional helpers, was mobilized in performing some rejuvenating task weeks before the first Seder. They made life hard for us younger children, who were always in the way. My younger brother Velvke and I were told by our sisters and helpers that our presence in the house was most unwelcome, as they swept, washed, moved furniture around and hung freshly laundered curtains. When I complained once to a visitor about being yelled at for no apparent reason and chased from the house, he turned to me and pronounced judiciously, "After all, it is erev Pesach" (the eve of Passover), as if to say that this justified stern measures. The younger children, always in search of snacks during these hectic days, were kept under special surveillance during the days immediately preceding the first Seder, since it was imperative to remove all leaven (chometz) from every nook and cranny of the house, and it was feared that we would mess things up somehow. I was allowed to participate in only two phases of the long cycle of preparations - taking all of our cooking utensils to a tin smith for relining to make them "Kosher l'Pesach" and being permitted to rise at dawn to observe the baking of the matzohs in the bakery next door to us.

In addition to the house cleaning and general air of renewal, there was great activity in the kitchen where special Passover dishes were being prepared, honey cakes and almond cookies baked in large quantities, teiglach (honey confection) prepared and placed in special containers and the brewing of mead”. 

Photo:-   Kalte (cold) Synagogue -  

From the Archives of YIVO Institute for Jewish Research, New York  

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Cover     :     Early Memories of Rassein     :     Jewish Rassein      

Schooling    :    Making Matzoh    :   Whats in a name        

Household Chores    :    The Sabbath, Holidays and Holy Days  

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