Memoirs of Rebbetzin Chana - Part 20 - An “inexhaustible fountain”...

Our home faced the street, with no gate, so whoever came to

visit us was clearly visible from the street. Most of the visitors were

bearded, making them particularly conspicuous.

Often we would close the shutters to shield our visitors from

passersby in the street. This could be done only at night when it

became somewhat cooler, but not by day when the heat was stifling.

After dark, we often moved outdoors into the yard, our visitors

sitting on whatever they could find since there weren’t enough

chairs for everyone. Some, especially the younger ones, would

stretch out on the bare grass.

I have no words to describe the special pleasure they

experienced from spending time with my husband.

By then his face was very gaunt and pale. As it turned out, he

was already critically ill. Nevertheless, when he spent time in

discussion with our guests, he became an “inexhaustible fountain.”

His face took on a healthy appearance and his voice became so

strong that it seemed that all was forgotten.

Under the repressive conditions of that time, both the listeners

and the speaker could have paid dearly for his religious influence.

The visitors would leave our home full of fear, and we remained at

home full of fear, wondering about every rustling sound, “Who

may that be?”

Yet our visitors didn’t stop coming, and they returned again

and again, either the following day, or a few days later.

And so the time passed. Every day, new acquaintances joined

our community. Many Jews arrived who had lived in Ukraine,

White Russia, Moscow and Leningrad.

We lived outside Alma-Ata proper. Inside the city, a number of

shuls had been established. They all sent delegations inviting my

husband to pray with them, or at least to deliver an occasional

Torah lecture or sermon to the congregation.

Some of our friends there provided for our material needs in a

most honorable manner, with uncommon dignity. CLICK HERE FOR PDF