REIZEL AND SHLOMO TEITEL
The members of the Third Aliyah
living in Israel were in the Nordauiya
neighborhood in Tel Aviv, and formed the center and point of gravity for all of
our town's people. They made their way to that bungalow like Chassidim to a
rebbe, and in those difficult days they planted within us hope, setting us on
fire to want to go on living. There was something amazing about their
personalities. Reizel worried about the needs of each and every person just
like a devoted mother, a
yiddishe Mama
, both in happy and tragic times; she was like a caressing hand.
They were both born in Olyka,
offspring of important and large families. Her mother, Malka Aharon Zlotes, was
a woman of valor in the full sense of the word. She was wise and resourceful.
Her father, Aharon Zlotes was a wheat merchant, one of the most honest people
in town, and an outstanding member of the community.
"Grandma" Malka had
the privilege of moving to the Land of Israel, but illness deprived her of her
life. Reizel Shoshana was a chip off the old block, and her parents taught her
everything she learned the teachings about opening one's house to all in need.
Shoshana and Shlomo shared the
same ideals. They were together in their pioneer activity, realization,
aspirations and labor. For us, they were both a single path to Zion. They paved
a road for us, as it were, at a time when they chose to travel on untried roads
themselves; a road that wasn't much of a road in the days of crisis and
unemployment in Palestine; a road of the difficult struggle of Hebrew labor,
until finally they attained some rest and consolation in their small home in
the Nachlat Yitzchak neighborhood. Their life stories in Palestine are the
stories of the entire population. Their huge family in Palestine was composed
of laboring people who they knew well.
The poor shacks in Nordauiya
served us, the emigrés from Olyka, as a palace. We were cramped in the
beds and corners, standing crowded and prostrating/bowing with extra room to
spare [This motif clearly refers back to the story about the ancient Temple on
Yom Kippur, where the crowds were so large there was no room to move, and yet
during the bowing ceremony, everyone was able to bow down.] when the sound of
singing and hora dancing exploded onto the street, which Shoshana, of course,
directed this symphony and added fire and enthusiasm to it.
They really guided us. They
helped anyone in need with loans and grants. We wanted to be around them. Now,
righteous Jews in the glorious light of heaven seek their company. Could it be
otherwise?
{p. 198}
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