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Besides the rabbi, the two Shochtim, a handful of melamedim and the school teachers, there were hardly any Jews in the town who made the Torah a tool to benefit from. Even extreme scholars like Reb Idel Brunstein (Reb Idel the Red) divided their day, half for making a living and half for engaging in the Torah and public needs.

Reb Idel the Red, who had a sharp and witty mind, a bold opponent of the rabbi and filled in his place whenever he was called to serve as an arbitrator in complicated trials in distant cities; he was different from the rest of the scholars in the town, most of whom were mild- mannered, lenient and tolerant people, whereas he was a man of halacha, always grumpy and gloomy, and his whole appearance expressed that justice should be done without pity! When he left his house for the morning prayer, with his Talit bag under his armpit and the Tefillin bag in his hand, his seemed as the figure of a man who is anxious to rush a doctor to the bed of a seriously ill person or someone

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who rushed to save from the fire, his thick eye brows were erected, his long beard fluttered in the wind, his head was tilted upwards and he was all scared and frightened. He got up early to go to the synagogue and was always in a hurry, even though he knew they wouldn't start the prayer without him, there in his own Kleizel!^[44] And when that certain scandal occurred, which agitated and shocked the entire town, when Reb Y.Z.'s daughter fled to the gentile doctor, but did not convert her religion, it was as if hot skewers were inserted in the flesh of Reb Idel, who ruled in anger: “They must be expelled from the town, the insolent girl and the suckling pig,” even though he understood that such a hasty act might raise the wrath of the authorities and lead to dangerous consequences. “A daughter of Israel living with an impure gentile,” roared Reb Idel from his groaning heart, “it's a great sin!” The terror and the devotion of generations were reflected at that moment in his sullen eyes. And when he fell ill, he did not agree, under no circumstances, to be examined by that single doctor in the town and traveled to a doctor in the nearby district town. And who stood next to Reb Idel's in his daring war with the gentile doctor? Doodle! He was the one who moved heaven and earth, and did not rest until the gentile doctor was fired and a Jewish doctor was brought to the town in his place.

For Reb Idel, faith was not only a worldview but the content of life. His whole life was guided with one guideline: “A righteous man in his faith will live.”^[45] Secretly, but not openly, he was opposed to Zionism, or more correctly, he did not believe in it; Zionism did not intrigue his cold, analyzing, dry mind. He was the complete opposite of the rabbi - the man of the poetry, enthusiasm and tenderness, a passionate Zionist and a great Zionist preacher.

Most of Reb Idel's sons were merchants but not scholars like him, they were good Zionists, married wives and built houses in the town, while his younger son,

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the only remnant of the entire extensive family, immigrated to the land of Israel and died in the War of Independence, in the Battle of Latrun!

The end of Reb Idel was severe and sudden. Eyewitnesses, survivors of the Holocaust, said: His gentile “friends” from the area, with whom he had trade relations all these years, were the first to come to loot and rob him, took him out of his house by force, forced him to dig a hole for himself and ordered him to dance until his death.

The intelligent persons of the town (their clear sign: in the summer they walked in the town with their heads uncovered and, in the winter, they wore shoe covers and not boots!), were not only silk yeshiva students, exhausted and helpless. Among the handful of intelligent persons in the town, there were strong, brave powerful guys. Who hasn't felt, even once at least, the “friendly” handshake of Idel Pintshevsky (Idel Kebak)? And if he patted you on the back, as a sign of affection, while a sly smile was flickering in his ever-smiling eyes, it would have been better to treat the blow beforehand and apply a bandage where his hand touched… And Israel Weinstein was awarded the title of “hero” by the yellow-bearded Savin himself, who was terrifying in his big and sturdy appearance. And here is a true story.

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On one of the days of the fair, which was held in the town on every Tuesday, Savin came to Reb Peretz Weinstein's bar to eat a “light” meal, the composition of which was almost constant: a bottle of liquor as an aperitif, a loaf of rye bread, two or three salted fish dipped in vinegar, about a dozen tomatoes and onions and for dessert a bottle of red wine. And when he was being cheerful and unrestrained after drinking, Savin hinted a most immoral insinuation to the wife of Reb Peretz, a kosher and innocent woman, who would complain to my mother, her neighbor, that her children's appetite was poor, and therefore they look pale and weak, literally skin and bones! One of Reb Peretz's sons, Israel, a big and broad guy, who was about 22 years old, who had already been released from his army service, noticed Savin's gesture and promptly jumped toward him, slapped him in the face, grabbed his big, shaggy head, and pushed it against the nearby window, which shattered into pieces. At first, Savin burst in a loud laugh as he believed that the winemaker's son was joking with him and this was nothing more than a trick of a prankster, but before he could recover, Israel picked up his awkward body and pushed him out through the shattered window. The upper half of his body was hanging outside, like a depleted limb, and the hairs on his head and his beard waved in the wind, while the second half of his body remained exposed to the “mercy” of Israel's fists, which hit mercilessly and indiscriminately. Savin writhed in pain and snorted like a slaughtered bull, and admitted that he had indeed behaved like a despicable pig and swore on his wife and half a dozen children that from this day forward he would behave like a decent person. Anyone who had not seen that moment when the huge Savin was beaten and wounded, has never seen an insulted person. All the visitors of the bar quickly scattered in all directions, terrified that Savin would seek to avenge his humiliation. But miraculously, after Savin had recovered, apparently, he understood the seriousness of the situation, expressed his admiration for the daring of

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the “Jewish boy”, to hit Savin, and crowned Israel with the title of “hero”, to the laughter of the crowd of curious people, who gathered and came from all ends of the street.

And when a rumor spread that Cuzists (enemies of Israel, from the students of the notorious enemy Prof. Cuza),^[46] were preparing to riot among the Jews of the town, these intelligent people did not hide in holes and basements. They were the ones who quickly organized the strong and powerful men, artisans and brave workers, equipped them with sticks, iron bars and pitchforks, and more than once proved their strength of hand and protected with exemplary valor and devotion on the people and the property.

The good, intelligent homes, their way of life, home arrangements, habits, food, and clothes were steeped in Russian culture and Russian customs. The influence of the Romanian culture was hardly noticeable in the town and the Romanian language was needed in times of need only to negotiate with the Authority about its officials and policemen and for trade with the gentiles. The dominant language in these houses was Yiddish, spiced up with Russian idioms to a great extent; and even accepted and common Hebrew idioms, which were embedded in the Yiddish, were pronounced by them in Russian

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and in a distinct Russian tone. In the homes of the intelligent people, there were large libraries and next to the books of Mendele, Peretz and Shalom Aleichem,^[47] there were poems by Pushkin and Nedson, stories by Tolstoy and Gorky and among some of them also “Love of Zion”, “The Wandering in the Ways of Life”, poems by Y.L. Gordon, Bialik,^[48] etc. They did not read these books but rather looked through, learned and memorized and even recited very well whole chapters with accent, rhythm and emotion, and the names of their authors they pronounced with great importance and respect. At a time of family rejoicing or a party of friends, when hearts were warmed and a “mood” was created and graceful and pleasant young women like Tama Weinberg, Rachelke Kornblit and their alike, acceded to the audience's request and sang a song or recited pieces of poetry and prose, those around felt their beating heart and noticed a thread of grace and a dream that was spread over their pale clusters, whether out of shyness or because of excessive excitement. That moment, a special pleasant atmosphere spread in the house, and as if by a magic wand, everyone was displaced for a little while from their poor corner and sailed on the wings of their imagination to a world full of illusions and purity and dreams. And Yankel Bodman, as usual, did not exclude himself from refinement: “Our friend Tama has a sea of emotions, but where is the good swimmer?”

At such parties appeared, as usual as an uninvited guest, Moshe Urtzis, a tailor of women's clothes, a happy poor man who loved to drink, a tailor in a family of tailors. His father, Reb Urtzis, had a triple title: the head of Chevra Kadisha, a gabbai in the synagogue of the tailors and the spokesman of the artisans in the town – who had the final word on everything. He was very meticulous, hot-tempered and knowledge-lacking. During the treatment of a deceased person, he negotiated with his assistants, out of respect for the dead, in the holy language, so to speak, but it was a language that was known only to them, so a stranger would not understand it. At that time, fragments of words and fragments of idioms came out of his mouth: “Noam im bai di botzikim”, “kap im

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an beim shel rosh” which means: “Hold him by his legs”, “Hold him from his head.” Moshe his son, was the complete opposite of the father – he was friendly and kind, with a good temper and loved to sing. When he arrived at a party, he contributed his part, without being asked, and sang in his mighty and clear voice pirkei chazzanut (cantorial chapters) and cheerful folk songs, and by the way, he also “by stealth” would sing from his “creations”, which he wrote in white chalk on black fabric stripes, between sowings. The jokesters commented on these songs: “They are like the women's clothes he sews - excessively wide or narrow, but he never prepared a piece of clothing that had both sleeves equal in length”…

Moshe Urtzis was an extreme book reader; he would read a very thick book in one night. When the doors of the municipal library were opened, he was the first to appear, bursting out in noise and panic, his coat undone and his hat down, and in his loud voice he turned to the librarian: “Anu veizet ner ahar apis a buch, aber a buch s'zal zein vos zu haltin in di hent” meaning: “Give me a book, but a book worthy of being held in the hand.” And what was a book for him worthy of being held in his hand? Thick and heavy! A small book, of less than five hundred pages, was not worthy. And when he held a book in his hand, he did not pay attention to its title and content, nor to the name of its author, but to the number of its pages, its weight. And this is how he would evaluate the books in his tailors' language: “A buch - a clyde in zyben pales far a kaynarer goya” that is: “A book - a dress in seven folds for a gentile lady from Kaynar”, he wanted to say a book that its reading takes the same time as sewing a dress for a gentile lady from the nearby village of Kaynar (who were tall and fat). When he held a small book in his hands, his heart soured and his mouth, which in its left corner was hidden a frequent twitch, had a slight smile and in a mockery way, he commented: “A

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bichele - a yupkale far a parkaner shiksale” meaning: “a booklet - a skirt for a small gentile girl from the nearby village of Parkon”, which was sewed very quickly. And when a preacher or a guest lecturer happened to come to the town and a large and diverse crowd flocked to the synagogue to listen to his words, and as is the way of nature there was a noise, a tumult and a commotion, Moshe would stand up to his full height, as if he were in charge of order and discipline, hit the lectern with all his might and shout in a loud voice: “Shat smarkes” that is: “Be quiet”!… Moshe Urtzis was a loyal follower and great admirer of the intelligent people in the town, ready and willing at any time and hour to stand by them, without differences of opinion and parties.

On the eve of leaving my Father's house and immigrating to Israel, Moshe Urtzis was among the first to come to say goodbye to me. While I was surrounded by family members, relatives, neighbors, friends and acquaintances, he appeared, with his hat as usual falling to the side on his large and bald head, embraced me with his two fleshy hands, showered me with a shower of kisses and with a crying voice begged: “Haimel farges mich nisht” (Haimel, please don't forget me”). I will admit that at that time, I did not fully understand his request and did not stand by its nature. Later, when I visited Father's house, his intention became clear to me, that for God's sake I will remember his chants, his “songs” and all his tunes… and why should I conceal the truth? More often than not, when I happen to see a tailor bent over his work and listening to the hymns emitting from the radio receiver, the warm and heartfelt melodies of the good and innocent Moshe Urtzis come to my heart…

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Lunatics and Fools

“Which city is considered a big city? Any city that has ten idlers in it, less than this it is a village” (Megillah 1:3). In this respect too, our town was a village. There were no idlers in it, most of its residents were working people and people of action and a minority were engaged in the Torah, but even those did not spend most of their days in the synagogue and did not earn a living from the public fund, as “idlers” do. Between one work to another, as rabbis, shochets, melamedim, etc., they dealt with the Torah, mitzvahs and public needs. But lunatics and fools, God forbid, were in the town, complete lunatics and half lunatics.

An entire family was included among the complete lunatics - the father “Haim der Reuter” (Haim the Red), his daughter and his son. In his old age, the father's condition improved and then he would say something logical and sometimes even surprise with a catchy remark, but the condition of the daughter and son did not change for the better. There was, of course, no institution for their hospitalization, and they roamed the streets and served as a target for the townspeople's ridicule and a prey for the children's mocking. Word of mouth said that in his youth the father was a musician and maybe even an “actor” in some traveling band or circus. He played the violin, by ear, and in the darkest hours of his life, and these were not few, he poured out his heart in playing that was sometimes accompanied by tears, tears of sadness and grief for his bitter fate, for his poor and gray life and for the suffering and trouble he had with his children… Once, on the eve of Shavuot, the sounds of a violin were heard from his house. The passers-by were surprised and asked him: - “Haim, playing on the holiday eve?!” He wiped a tear from his face and replied: -

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“For fifty years I have been praying and God has not heard or acceded my prayers, maybe he would listen to my music?”…

And the half-crazy “Zvi der Schreier” (Zvi the announcer). A thin and slender man, all skin and bones, very tall but with limited mental capacity. He always seemed as he was walking on stilts and smiling his evil, good and comfortable smile. His smile highlighted his walnut- sized Adam's apple, which rose and fell at a dizzying speed like mercury, revealing two rows of cigarette-rotten teeth. Two were his means of livelihood - drawing water and a herald, and both of them together barely provided him with his basic needs. He brought water from the well to the houses of the rich who paid him handsomely and gave him a ration of food, used clothes, etc. And how did he serve as an announcer? This “profession” was the product of his “invention”. He would walk the streets of the town and announce a general meeting to be held at a certain synagogue, the sermon-lecture of some emissary, a performance by the local amateur band and sometimes also a general discount sale (“the end of the season sale”), or on fresh fish that just arrived. In fact, no one understood the content of his loud announcements. The words came out of his mouth very fast, garbled and greatly distorted, but everyone enjoyed his twitches and movements during the announcement and especially its end. Each announcement ended with a long and trilled voice with these words: “Un es vet zein mit musica” which means: “Everything will be accompanied by music.” At this moment, Zvi was enjoying himself, his “music” and of the pleasure of the children, who surrounded him and begged him to continue with his trills. And if they asked him: “Zvi, what are you announcing on?” He would burst into loud laughter and answer without delay: “Salted fish”, “A loaf of bread”,

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“A cigarette box” and so on, as if to say: “It is not important on what I declare, what is important is the value I receive…”

And finally – Ezekiel, the fool of the city of Soroka. In fact, he was not a native of the place but a guest who would come to spend the night, but his frequent visits to our town gave him “honorary citizenship”. His freckled face, his big eyes, always smiling and sickly, his mouth dripping with saliva and his torn and worn clothes, testified to his identity. By nature, he was quiet, modest and shy, an abandoned and neglected child, who had never felt the warm hand of a father or mother. He was lonely and childless, and he made a living by doing various odd jobs: helping to draw water, sweeping streets, moving goods and furniture from place to place and above all – he was a regular guest at weddings, whether in his town of Soroka, in our town or in the surrounding towns. And since there was no lack of joyful events, Thank God, Ezekiel would appear in our town as an uninvited guest, but was always welcome. After eating and sipping a few drinks, he went out in a “solo dance”, which served as a “special attraction” for the children. As mentioned, he was extremely secretive and when he rarely spoke, he sometimes uttered logical things. The dream of his life, like the dream of “Bentzi” of Y.L. Peretz, was a fresh challah^[49] and a roast. And indeed, when he was once asked what his ambition in life was? Ezekiel raised his eyes to the mountain, it is the mountain of vineyards where the city of Soroka was blessed and to the Dniester that sloped at its foot, he sighed deeply and said: - “How beautiful the world would be, if the mountain was a challah and the Dniester was a roast, and I would be sitting at ease, dipping my challah in the roast and living a life of comfort” …

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Synagogues

There were five synagogues in the town and they, with their congregation of worshippers, served as a faithful image of the town as a whole. Three of them, the “Kloise”, the “Shul” and the “Kleizel” were proudly displayed in the town center, near the market, whereas the other two, the “Shneidershe Shul” (The Tailors' Synagogue) and the “Deutsche Shul” (The German Synagogue) decorated a side street, small and narrow, near the school, where the rabbi, the shochet and bodek Reb Sheftil, and several other respectable homeowners lived. Owners of estates and lands, wealthy merchants and simply “beautiful Jews” prayed in the “Kloise”; The “Shul” was intended for the simple people such as Doodle and Reb Shimon “Gentile”; The “Kleizel”, “the fortress” of Reb Idel the Red, was filled with more than half of his family members sons, sons-in-law, brothers, brothers-in-law and the rest of the family; The “Shneidershe Shul”, as it was called, was the center of all kinds of artisans: tailors, shoemakers, carpenters, furriers, bakers, blacksmith, butchers, etc.; And the “Deutsche Shul”, that was so called because Jews of all kinds prayed there, but mainly educated people of the type of Reb Yechiel Pintchevsky and Reb Avrehmel Axenfeld. The “Deutsche Shul” was the privileged of all the synagogues. It served as the rabbi's “fortress” and the center for all the assemblies, conventions and gatherings where the rabbi delivered most of his Zionist sermons and speeches with the pleasantness of his sharp fiery voice. The common feature of all these synagogues, except for the synagogue of the rabbi who excelled in his cleanliness and neatness, was that all of them were mostly dirty - neglect and tons of dust ruled everywhere, and in every corner, and all of which was the fault of the shamashim, most of them

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were like Reb Haim's type, the “Kloise” shamash, who would not check in the Tractate of “Taharoth.”^[50]

The homeowners were sometimes angry and agitated, complained and warned loudly at the sight of the moldy walls and the sooty ceiling of the “Kloise”, but to no avail. And when they asked Reb Haim: How is it possible? Dirt and filth, cobwebs and mud from last year on every lectern? He lingered for a long time, he rested his always turbid eyes on the man who spoke to him, his mouth crowned with a pointed beard raised an evil smile and dripped saliva, and said: “What is it!” As if he wanted to say: let alone, if I don't have the strength to wash and purify my meager body and make sure that my capote is clean and if I don't have enough time to clean my black nails and do my hair and beard that have grown wild, you want me to maintain order and cleanliness in such a large and honorable “sacred place” for several dozens of homeowners?…

There was a special atmosphere in the small and dark “Shneidershe Shul”, whether it was due to the same shadow of sadness that was always spread over the crowd of worshipers, most of them poor and destitute who made a living in sorrow; honest and innocent artisans whose prayers were with fear and tremble; or whether it was because of the beautiful view that was discovered through its low windows, which looked out over the school garden surrounded by a wired fence and over the grass-covered meadows, green fields and blooming gardens. However, a special fondness was known of all for the “Deutsche Shul” due to the rabbi's prayers in a penetrating, piercing, sanctifying and trilling voice, warm and excited prayers that came out of the heart and entered the heart, and even into the hearts of the “skeptics”…

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The Aliya PeopleThe Aliya People

The handful of high school and universities students, who studied at state universities and abroad, and spent the summer vacation at their wealthy parents' homes, the houses of Weinberg, Rabinovitch, Halgort, etc., collaborated with the local people, the heads of the “Gordonia” and the “Kultur- Liege” (Culture League), revived a new spirit in the life of the youth and provoked them to actions. These initiated lectures, plays, reading parties, public debates and literary trials about “The Recluse” by Peretz, “Nora” by Ibsen and “Anna Karenina” by Tolstoy, which became the talk of the day and the poetry of the day and night. Despite the watchful and suspicious eye of the Romanian authorities, who “heard” in every speech slanderous words and incitement against the government, and “saw” in every assembly an obvious feature of a “communist coup”, these balls were held in public, and sometimes attracted important guests from the surrounding towns, a crowd of educated people and students. These artistic literary evenings began in a narrow, dark and stuffy hall and continued in the gardens and vineyards, on the fields and across the meadows of the Tolike. These were trips and tours full of mischievousness, seasoned with humorous stories and witty jokes, with eating fresh fruit from the trees, sucking juicy grapes from the clusters, eating red watermelons with lust, and accompanied by poetry, which spilled from horizon to horizon. It seemed that in their songs, more than in their conversations and debates, with warmth and enthusiasm, these revealed everything that oppressed their hearts, stirred and agitated their souls - souls saturated with youthful fire and joy and intense

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longings to distant places, for things that were not here”…

“Longings to distant places, for things that were not here,” where? Some of them to the United States of America, a minority to the neighboring country, Russia, and a minority of the minority, a nucleus that grew and deepened and expanded over the years, to the Land of Israel. The first, the desire to wander and adventure, and even the desire to get rich, nested in their hearts; The owners of the dreams of Russia, who were the best of the youth, were influenced by the spirit of the time and the fragrance of the ideas that were stirring and agitating the hearts in Europe in general and in the neighboring country in particular. Whereas the handful of nationalists, for whom Zionism was a deep recognition and longing for a working life in the homeland. A working life, this was the main idea folded the main part of their national faith, and in its fulfillment, they saw the practical cure for the anomaly of an unreal, dark and hopeless exile life. It is therefore no wonder that it was the Gordonia movement that struck deep roots in this town, aroused and inspired crowds of young people, many of whom are now living in the cities and villages of Israel.

The modest contribution that the town made to the third aliya, its main source and origins were in the houses that Zion was dear to them, families engaged in work and craft and whose sons were knowledgeable in all of the farmers duties and responsibilities. From these houses (Rabinovitch, Fuchs, Hochberg, Axenfeld, Katz, Bandarsky, Moshinsky (= Mishali), etc.) came the pioneers who were strong in body and hardworking; these excellent “field scholars” were the first settlers of Kfar Yehoshua, the fighters for Hebrew labor in Petah Tikva, Rehovot, Kfar Saba, Hadera, Pardes-Hana and more. Followed them the soft and gentle “silk yeshiva students”: the rabbi's daughters, his only son Moshe Sternberg, one of the first students and graduates of the Hebrew University, a lawyer

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who was also engaged in the study of Hebrew philosophy; the Rabbi's sister, Chaya (Punt), whose house and heart were always open to help, encourage and assist everyone in need; the son Reb Sheftil the shochet and bodek: Reb Menachem Mendel Davidson, collector of folklore and historiography, the owner of the rich archive for the study of the history of Bessarabia Jewry, and his brother Ephraim, teacher and author of textbooks and the author of “Our laughter” (5711, ~1951) - a treasure of humor and satire in Hebrew literature from its beginnings to the present day, together with introductions and comments and “Laughter for Israel” (5711) - a collection of folklore, humor and jokes about the State of Israel. And also many others immigrated, the “surviving remnants” of the town.

Now, after more than twenty five years since I last saw my town, lived its life and watched the variety of its people and their ways of life, their joys and sorrows, their dilemmas and daily worries; now, when I look at them in light of the terrible fire that fell on their meager dwellings and in light of the great transformations that have taken place in our lives in Israel, I understand and realize more and more that there, as in all of the Diaspora, houses were found that were actually legates of Israel before the establishment of the state. These houses, for all their ways of life, were like corridors to the large and longing lounge and as corridors are, were sometimes narrow and dark, lacking light and lacking air. However, as the darkness grew there, so did the longing for light, as the pressure and enslavement increased, so deepened the desire “to return to the land of our ancestors, to the city where David dwelt”…

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The End

Dumbrăveni, my small and remote town in the steppes of Bessarabia on the banks of the Dniester, was there and no longer exists! How was it wiped off the face of the earth? How were those down-to-earth, good-hearted and hot-tempered Jews, who were soaked and saturated with the love of Israel, the faith of Israel and the tradition of generations, defeated? How were they displaced from their land and their comfortable and rooted homes? And what is the appearance of the few and lonely houses that remain destroyed, which became the abode of the bloodthirsty gentiles? – We were informed about this only from eyewitnesses and hearsay witnesses, refugees who came to us with terror of death in their eyes. Like a husk in the wind, they spread across the Russian steppes and Transnistrian swamps; and most of them, fathers, sons, daughters, little children and babies, found their deaths on the roads and in the forests, in concentration camps and in basements. The heavens above and the earth below, only they heard their cries and tears, listened to their sighs and confessions.

These fields, gardens and vineyards, which were sown, planted and cultivated for generations in the steppe plains of Bessarabia in general and Dumbrăveni in particular, continue to grow, bloom and yield fruits and they are the silent witnesses:

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How were they led through a tranquil village, full of smell of fruits and dairy barns; At every hut fence (image of Christianity!) stood quietly the members of the entire farmer's family and waited to see the spectacle: - Jews are led to their death.

(U.Z. Greenberg, Rehovot HaNahar (The River Streets), 51-52)

There was once a town and it no longer exists! And its Jews, who clung to the soil and held the plow for many years before the Zionist idea was brought to fruition, saw the Land of Israel from afar and did not reach it, because they were exterminated by the hands of the evil and impure, they were not buried in Jewish burial and the day of their death is unknown.

Editor's Notes:

44. The exact meaning of word was not found in the dictionaries we used, but is apparently “a small synagogue.” Return
45. “A righteous man in his faith shall live” originally from the book of Habbakuk in the Bible, it became a commonly used phrase among Jews who sometimes were compelled to convert. Return
46. Prof. Alexandru Constantin Cuza was the leader of the antisemitic party “ The National Christian Defense League” and his followers were called “Cuzists.” Return
47. Yiddish authors that were famous at the time (Mendele the Bookseller, Y.L. Peretz and Shalom Aleichem). Return
48. Zionist authors who were writing in Hebrew at the time. Return
49. “Challah” is a special Shabbat bread. Return
50. “Taharoth” – Tractate of the Mishnah that deals with the issue of cleanliness (Editor's note: This is a humorous remark: This tractate deals with issues of religious purity and impurity, not with dirt.) Return

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