Unedited: Jewish Standard Celebrations: Kiddush

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OF KIDDUSH, COLLATIONS AND COMMUNITY
Celebrating Special Events in Shul or at Home on Shabbat &Yom Tov

By Jeanette Friedman
(It turns out the rebbetzin I wrote about was nifter 5/27, the day the paper arrived in people’s mailboxes. Baruch Dayan Emet. She was an incredible woman. Her name was Rebbetzin Chaya Frankel..from Frankel’s Shul in Crown Heights and Flatbush.)

In the old shuls in Brooklyn, run by Hasidic dynasties in Crown Heights, Borough Park and Williamsburg—even in the black-hat shuls—by the time the girls arrived with their mothers in time for the Torah reading, you knew someone was celebrating something or marking a yahrzeit. The upstairs lady’s section (der veiber shile), would be redolent with the rich scent coming from a huge pot of garlicky cholent, a heart-disease inducing stew, thick with beans and barley, beef bones and onions that had been set to simmer on the blech in the kitchen early Friday afternoon. (A blech is a steel sheet set over the gas burners to hold the heat of a low flame and slow the cooking process to a steady simmer.)

If cholent was in the air, a feast was in the offing.

A simple kiddush in days of yore was slapped on a long table. It consisted of some schnapps, dried out sponge or honey cake, some schmaltz herring and sugar-coated egg bowties that were as hard as rocks. If the men were lucky, there would be a bowl of garbonza beans (arbis), straight out of a can, dried with a dishtowel and tossed in a bowl with salt and pepper. There were no spoons or plates, and they would dig in with their fingers, using toothpicks to stab a piece of herring. Everything stank.

But in the rebbitzen’s shul in addition to cholent, crispy, grayish, but delicious potato kugel, made with onions, was stuffed into the ovens, along with delicately browned noodle kugel made with raisins, always sweet and moist, with hints of vanilla and lemon. These kugels would be wrapped in yards and yards of aluminum foil so they would stay hot without burning.

The rebbitzen would come in early with some of her friends and slice long loaves of sweet/salty cold gefilte fish into ¾ inch thick diagonal slices, slip them onto thin paper plates with a sliced carrot placed just so, along with a sprig of parsley. A plastic fork would be put on the plate, too. The plates would then be stacked on each other in the fridge. The horse radish was red, the pickles were half sours, set out in jars.

When the men got to saying the amidah for Musaf, the rebbitzen removed the kugels from the oven and carefully removed the foil. She and the women cut up to ten pans of kugel into 2×2 inch squares in record time and piled them on platters. The steamy, smelly cholent was ladled into deep bowls and passed around with thicker paper plates. Sometimes the rebbetzin would prepare “p’tcha,” also known as “galleh,” aspic made from chicken legs with lots of garlic and schmaltz. Only the really old folks would go near it. If it was Shevuoth, the kugel would be cheese kugel, there would be blintzes, cheese kreplach, cheese cake made with farmer cheese, fruit soup and herring platters—schmaltz, matjes herring in cream sauce and/or wine sauce with onions seasoned with lots of bay leaves. Sometimes, not often, there was lox with a square slab of cream cheese, but no bagels. Challah rolls would have to do.

There were usually three or four men on the kitchen squad who could carry 30 portions of gefilte fish without trays, and who had the food-transfer system to the men’s section down pat. The women set out food for the women upstairs, with slightly more refinement. There were napkins. The moment a voice from downstairs made kiddush loud enough for everyone to hear, the hoards would descend, and every drop of food would disappear in moments. The rebbe would give a dvar Torah, people would say the version of grace after meals that applied, and off they’d go—to a real meal or a Shabbat nap.

Sometimes the hosting family would stay behind with selected family members and friends to continue the celebration on site. Sometimes the festivities continued at home or in a rented hall a short walk away. Rarely did anyone stray from convention. The menus were practically static. Fruit cocktail with maraschino cherries was a luxury. Desert was usually ruggelach with a glass of tea.

Today, influenced by our meticulous moms and the Food Network, the kiddush has dramatically evolved. You can still get the basics for a kiddush and so much more from food purveyors in Northern New Jersey and beyond. There are kiddushim for vegans, for carnivores, weight watchers, and for the rest of us who just love to eat good food. From deli platters to derma stuffed boneless chicken thighs, mini-danish to caviar, a kiddush can be simple and stylish, elegant and elaborate, Middle Eastern or Mexican. You are limited only by your budget and special needs, if any.

FAR FROM TRADITION, AND DELICIOUS

In addition to the basics, there are millions of dishes to choose from if you’re planning a kiddush either at home, in shul or temple. Some unusual menu items you might want to consider: Chilled bowtie pasta with sautéed portobello mushrooms, sun-dried tomatoes and olive tapenade dressing; an assortment of sushi and shashimi instead of gefilte fish, or as a complement to it. Marinated asparagus salad with fresh berries and lemon mint vinaigrette, served with cold poached salmon. Artichoke and Kalamata olive tarts and mini quiches make great finger foods, as do Moroccan cigars stuffed with ground lamb, Vietnamese spring rolls with Mandarin dipping sauce, and kubeh (which should be served with an international variety of dipping sauces). A fresh salad suggestion is sliced avocados dipped in lemon juice and diced citrus fruits topping baby spinach greens dressed with raspberry vinaigrette. Even the beverages can be different—iced green tea, fresh juices, chilled white wines from Israel—the sky’s the limit.

A typical dairy kiddush could consist of bagels, cream cheese spreads and lox, fresh fruit platters, a pasta salad, a herring assortment, crackers and breads, mini muffins, assorted mini-danish, ruggelach and brownies. Beverages would be coffees, creamers and teas and sodas. To expand this menu, typically, you would add tuna, egg and potato salads, white fish, pickle platters, at least three kinds of kugel (choosing from white potato, sweet potato, regular sweet noodle kugel, salt and pepper noodle kugel, cheese kugel, kugel Yerushalmi, a kugel made with thin noodles, hot and sweet.) You might even add kasha varnishes (bowtie noodles with sautéed onions and kasha) or a variety of mini-knishes.

There are many food purveyors who are ready, willing and able to meet your every kiddush catering need—from take-out menu selections to full service catering.

SIDE BAR: About Kiddush
The fifth “commandment” of the ten reminds us to keep the Sabbath and remember it. It’s the one day of the week when we are ordered to take it easy, spend some time with our families and our community in the synagogues or temples of our choice. We “keep” the Sabbath by refraining from work on that day, and we “remember” it with the rituals we use to sanctify it. We bless the wine, traditionally using a fancy silver cup or chalice, on Friday nights before the Sabbath meal, and again on Saturday morning after services. Today, kiddush cups or bechers, the Yiddish word for them, can be fashioned by artists in ceramics, hand-blown glass or other materials. They make great gifts for engagements, graduations, bar/bats and weddings. But that’s beside the point.

A kiddush, an after- morning service celebration, could also be called a collation, a fancy word for a light meal, even when traditional cholesterol packed food is on the menu. It’s a social gathering with food that begins with a ceremony to sanctify the wine, grape juice or liquor that is used (if you would serve the drinks to a VIP, it qualifies for kiddush). The event usually marks an important lifecycle event, like a baby naming, a bris, an engagement, a birthday, a bar or bat mitzvah, or to mark the anniversary of the passing of a loved one, a yahrzeit. Most shuls have a kiddush on Saturday mornings, offering mini-danish and coffee, even when there’s no lifecycle event to celebrate. Other congregations have a Friday night Oneg Shabbat after services, which operates on the same principle.

Ma’adan
446 Cedar Lane, Teaneck
201-692-0192
Stuart or Yossi

http://www.maadan.com/

Stuart Kahan and Yossi Markovic, owners of Ma’adan, have been friends since second grade. Both worked in food service and, in 1981, decided to open a small glatt “gourmet” take out place on Cedar Lane in Teaneck. Today that store has grown to 4,500 square ft. and is packed with anything you might want to offer your guests, especially for a kiddush. They stock staples and the latest trendy items. They do dairy and meat, and carry a fine selection of wine and liquor. Non-traditional items include Buffalo wings, Jumbalaya, lamb stew, bachts (a Bukharan beef dish with rice) for an interesting change of pace for kiddush.

A Ma’adan specialty, particularly for kiddush, is the homemade herring bar, offering various spicy herrings, and old standbys: matjes, wine and schmaltz, served with sautéed onions, veggies and parve cream sauce. Baby-namings, bar/bat, brissim and other buffet kiddush events are a house specialty, and they offer full-service catering, including weddings. They’ll serve on paper plates, plastic ware or china and silver plate—depending on the hosts‘ needs. After 30 years on Cedar Lane, Stuie and Yossi pride themselves on providing customer service for foodies—no preservatives added.

Foster Village Kosher Deli
469 S. Washington Avenue, Bergenfield
In the Foster Village shopping mall
201-384-7100
Free parking.
Call for orders and hours.

Yossi and Rina have been serving the Bergen County Jewish community since 1979 as purveyors of quality kosher deli for Conservative and Reform congregations. Traditional and deli style kiddush is what they do best. As Yossi says, “It’s my cup of tea.” They also offer full service catering for business lunches, meetings, and dinners.
Everything is homemade, including the corned beef, the brisket, the pastrami and soups. The deli platters are to die for. Side dishes include kasha varnishkes, egg barley (ferfel in Yiddish)—usually sautéed with diced onions and mushrooms. The soups are exceptional. And a food critic on the net suggests “that you ask Yossi to make an Israeli pot roast for your next Shabbos.”

Noah’s Ark
493 Cedar Lane, Teaneck
Phone: 201.692.1200
Fax: 201.692.1890
www.noahsark.net
and
Rave Caterers
212-527-7059×3
www.ravecaterers.com
noam@ravecaterers.com
Noah’s Ark opened as a sit-down deli/restaurant on Cedar Lane in 1988. Since then, proprietors Noam and Shelly Sokolow have expanded the business to include Shelly’s Vegetarian Café (dairy) across the street, an old-fashioned kosher deli on the Lower East Side, an elegant, top-tier catering service called Rave, based in the Big Apple, and a brisk, mail order business that ships frozen kosher food cross-country. They have a vast menu that includes all sorts of party packages. When planning a meat-based kiddush, bang for the buck would be the Mid-Life Crisis Party. Crisis is averted when the package is a pre-packaged deli kiddush that serves 40-45 folks for under $600. Beverages are not included. Here’s what is: A 20-lb carved up turkey, 48 franks in blankets, 48 mini-potato knishes, 48 mini-egg rolls, 10 lbs. of cold cuts on platters, including corned beef and roast beef, 9 lbs. each of potato salad and cole slaw, a tray of pickles and relishes and 9 lbs. of sliced rye bread. Comes with mustard and Russian dressing. All you need to do is set it up on long tables, and maybe replace the rye bread with challah rolls for 48.

Ariel’s
18 Engle Street
Englewood
201-569-1202
Craig Solomon
crms99@aol.com
www.arielskosher.com
questions@arielskosher.com
Catering@arielskosher.com
Follow them on Twitter: Arielskosher
It’s a newcomer to the neighborhood, but Ariel’s makes a strong kosher culinary statement that is a world away from cheese blintzes, veggie burgers and mushroom steaks, This unique eatery specializes in affordable, upscale cuisine, served in a casual, family-friendly atmosphere. Craig Solomon, the chef/owner, trained at the Culinary Institute of America in Hyde Park, a place that turns out the caliber chefs you see on The Food Network and Bravo. He takes his cooking seriously and says his dishes speak for him. Craig uses international ingredients, makes his own pasta and ice cream. Everything is under $20, except fresh fish entrees. Off-premise catering for a dairy kiddush, dinner meetings, birthdays and other parties, Sheva Brachot, bar/bats and other special events can be set up with a buffet, an a la carte menu or family-style meals.

Craig’s reputation has attracted clientele from all around the county and rave reviews. In addition to gourmet pizzas and kid-friendly fare, the fish dishes rise above the pale: sesame-crusted salmon, cedar plank-roasted salmon, coriander-crusted tuna and blackened tilapia are only a few of your choices. There’s wild mushroom rissoto poppers, house-made gnocchi with pesto sauce, sweet potato tamales and grilled zucchini french fries. Go and sample.

Petak’s Glatt Kosher Fine Foods & Catering
1903 Fair Lawn Ave.
Fair Lawn, NJ
201-833-8200 or 201-797-5010
Call for Daily Specials
petaksfood@aol.com

http://www.petaksglattkosher.com

Petak’s has been serving food in the tri-state area for more than 75 years and catered a Chanukah party in the White House during the George W. Bush administration, they’re that good. They do deli like you wouldn’t believe, with overstuffed hot pastrami on rye like the old days. Traditional dishes, kreplach, matzoh ball soup like Bubbe made, gefilte fish, chopped liver, thin-sliced salmon, kugels, knishes and more are all available, as are a slew of international dishes from around the world: French, Italian, Oriental, Middle Eastern, and Latin American cuisine, are all prepared with close attention to kashrut, quality and culinary integrity. There are smoked fish platter packages including salads, cream cheeses and breads. There are traditional deli platter packages and sandwich and wrap packages, all suitable for the shul kiddush. There are also dairy options available, including cheese platters, fresh fruit platters, cake platters and much much more to choose from.

Reuben’s Glatt Spot Catering
659 Eagle Rock Avenue
West Orange, NJ 07052
Ph: (973) 736-0060
Fax (973) 736-8026
Email:Reubensglattspot@aol.com

http://www.reubensglattspot.com/

Over in West Orange, Reuben’s Glatt Spot offers traditional platter packages that are perfect for either a dairy or meat kiddush, along with a Middle Eastern kiddush called the Israeli Homeland Delight—a seven section platter filled with your choice of Middle Eastern salads like babaganoush, chumus, tehina, grilled eggplant, vegetarian liver, Turkish salad, Spanish eggplant, an ample supply of cut pita and a large bowl of Israeli salad. Minimum 10 people @ $9.50 per person.

The^ Famous^ Kosher Nosh
894 Prospect St.
Glen Rock, NJ
201-445-1186

http://www.koshernosh.com/

Classic Kosher Delicatessen, international cuisine, smoked fish and appetizing, soups and salads and diary section. There’s dining in, drop-off, catering and kiddush specials as well as condolence meals and platters for shiva. They also offer a stimulus package with coupons on their website, and a Shabbat Shalom special for $25.95 available from Thursday afternoon to Friday afternoon. They’ve got you covered from Jersey City to Franklin Lakes, from Ridgewood to Kearny.

And for something that’s just a little different, there is

Fish of the C’s
454 Cedar Lane, Teaneck,
201-928-1200 FAX: 201-928-1201
Clark Loffman

http://www.fishofthecs.com/

Fish of the C’s is a kosher, dairy, fish restaurant providing quality food at a good price in a pleasant atmosphere. (There’s a big screen TV equipped with PC hookup for presentations. The party room iaccomodates 30 for great for birthday parties, anniversaries, baby naming, sweet sixteens, sheva brachot, engagement parties, graduations, office parties and business meetings. The restaurant seats 25.

A Fish of the C’s kiddush consists of smoked, grilled, blackened or poached fish platters, house cured gravlax platters, wraps, General Tzo’s fish bites, crudités, fruit platters, cake and cookie platters, beverages and fixings. Call for details. Drop off and full service available.

And don’t forget the add-ons:

PICKELICIOUS
PickleLicious is the place for pickle platters/gift baskets/gift cards: Robyn sells at many farmers’ markets around the region and has a handle on the hot and trendy, including very spicy, mildly spicy and unusual flavored pickled treats and olives. Pickel platters and displays are a specialty, a perfect accent for your drop-off or catered kiddush.

PICKELICIOUS
384 Cedar Lane,
Teaneck, NJ 07666
Phone: 201-833-0100
http ://picklelicious.com/
ROBYN SAMRA
Family Day Sunday`s (10am-5pm)
Come on down with your family for sampling and every family member gets a FREE pickle-on a- stick).

The Forward: Marilyn Henry, Advocate for Survivors, An Appreciation

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by Michael Berenbaum and Jeanette Friedman
Published March 09, 2011, issue of March 18, 2011.

Marilyn Henry was the quintessential old-school girl reporter — more Hildy Johnson in “His Girl Friday” than Brenda Starr. Her laser-sharp brain could cut through the most complex philosophical, financial, legal, religious and arcane data to get to the heart of a story. Her two masterworks were “Twice Stolen,” an almost-finished book project, aborted by her death, about looted art from the Holocaust era, and “Confronting the Perpetrators: A History of the Claims Conference,” which tells about the organization responsible for negotiations and allocations of restituted funds and property.

Henry died of cancer on March 1, four days shy of turning 58. She was smart and deep, and no naïf. She was feisty enough to hold her own with Secretary of State Hillary Rodham Clinton, or to work with then Manhattan District Attorney Robert Morgenthau, who praised her upon her death as “a remarkable person and a great reporter.” She unraveled financial puzzles such as the $1.25 billion Swiss bank settlement, and understood and remembered the differences between the Goodwill Fund, the Hardship Fund, the Article 2 Fund, the Ghetto Pension fund and myriad other funds, as well as details about restitution and reparations for Holocaust survivors that confused the rest of us. She cajoled major players in negotiations to explain complex facts to her, figured out the story these facts told, and explained it to the rest of us.

Read more:

My Friend Marilyn, z’l

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Marilyn Henry was my straight arrow–a dedicated and passionate supporter of Holocaust survivors’ rights, and we had lots in common. We were both journalists writing on similar topics, and we cared about the ethics of our profession and the ethics of restitution. We were equally frustrated with the politics of the situation, and covered these important, emotional and difficult issues in our own unique styles. We both knew the “players” and their personalities and shared stories, many of them poignant and humorous, many of them maddening. She also knew how to stay calm in the face of a tempest.

We were friends–not bosom buddies, but close enough that no topic was really taboo–and that even after long lapses, we could take up conversations in the middle. She gave wise counsel, often offered a different perspective. We had fun with each other, and I most enjoyed watching her lecture on looted art, which she loved to do.

When I first met her, more than 20 years ago, she had long, luxurious, thick, dark curly hair that fell well below her shoulders.When we had time (and it was rare) we would meet for a coffee and talk. We spoke the same language. She was bold and forthright, stood strong for her ideas, and most importantly, she was fiercely protective of her family and they of her.

A few months ago, Marilyn made an important decision about her life and how it would end. We discussed it, and she inspired me to do certain things. When she cut her hair because of treatment, I cut mine in solidarity with her and she understood that. (I will keep it short.) She also showed me how end of life issues are not decided at the last moment. She wanted to spare her family the agony of watching her try at all and any cost to hang on to life, and let us know about it. Following her noble example, I filled out an advanced directive, because I knew in my soul and in my heart, that as always, Marilyn was doing the right thing because it was the right thing to do. I will miss her. May her memory be a blessing.

TAPS FOR IRVING HAUPTMAN

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Taps for Irving Hauptman

http://www.jstandard.com/articles/1289/1/Taps-for-Irving-Hauptman

Jeanette Friedman

By Jeanette Friedman
Published on 07/6/2006

My husband Phil came into my office the other day and delivered the news. “Irving passed away. His funeral is the day after tomorrow.” My jaw dropped, my eyes filled, and I thought, “He’s not suffering anymore.” After four heart attacks and a bout with Crohn’s Disease, our friend and comrade, Irving Hauptman had a difficult last few years.
Taps for Irving Hauptman
My husband Phil came into my office the other day and delivered the news. “Irving passed away. His funeral is the day after tomorrow.” My jaw dropped, my eyes filled, and I thought, “He’s not suffering anymore.” After four heart attacks and a bout with Crohn’s Disease, our friend and comrade, Irving Hauptman had a difficult last few years.

Irving was a decorated Korean War vet who earned two bronze stars and was company clerk in the 453rd Construction Battalion. That suited his personality. He worked at International Multifoods for 30 years as a bakery equipment designer and could be exacting and demanding. First and foremost in his life was his family — five kids and his wife Mary, a fellow veteran. His patriotism was fervent, his defense of the Jewish people fiery. He even carved the mahogany Jewish chaplain’s insignia that hangs in the Paramus Veterans Home’s Chapel.

Irving was senior vice commander of Jewish War Veterans Post 498 — for life, it seemed — and occasionally district and department vice commander, too. As a proud JWVer he represented his comrades by volunteering for local politicians or charity groups, doing things no one else wanted to do — stuffing envelopes, collecting goods. Irving’s way was visit veterans’ hospitals, get out the vote, cook for the homeless, put flags on veterans’ graves on Memorial Day, clip coupons for charity, bring food to Shelter Our Sisters — whatever it was, he and Mary were always available to make it happen.

Irving and Mary, in their JWV caps and matching outfits, were fixtures in our lives. They marched in every Teaneck Fourth of July parade until last year. For years, right after the parade, Irving and Mary hosted the annual JWV barbecue in their backyard. Now we do it at our place. Irving’s legacy (he taught me to parboil the chickens before putting them on the grill) was to celebrate America.

Did we always appreciate him? Honestly, not enough. Sometimes you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone. And therefore the JWVers honored him with a military service, a privilege for those of us who participated in the solemn ceremony.

We met our compatriots from the Jewish War Veterans at Temple Emeth in Teaneck and then marched into the sanctuary. We stood at attention behind the traditional simple pine box that was draped in the Stars and Stripes, as the JWV state commander performed the service. Then we were ordered to give the slow salute, the acknowledgment of Irving’s status as a veteran and our peer, an acknowledgment of the esteem in which we held him. Phil, the post commander (Irving always called him the Commando), offered a eulogy, reflecting on how Irving had always been a bit of a pain in the neck, a gadfly who constantly forced us to hold a mirror up to ourselves to ask if we were doing as much as he was, to ask if we were doing our fair share. Who was more dedicated to the cause of making the world a better place than Irving? We gave another slow salute, and filed out in two ranks.

The Hauptman daughters described their dad as playful, and talked about his obsession with his tools and workshop, the envy of all their friends. He could do anything electrical or build a birdhouse and then turn around and demand that their dates come to the door so he could meet (and evaluate) them. His son, Eddie, delivered a funny, honest, loving eulogy that reflected his dad’s sense of humor and integrity. Irving, who knew he was no saint, made Eddie promise he wouldn’t lie at the service and make grand claims about his father. So Eddie told his father’s favorite (unprintable) joke. Everyone who knew Irving knew Eddie was right on point. Eddie told the truth — and had us laughing and crying as we remembered our own moments with Irving.

The chapel ceremony over, we JWVers stood in rows at the door, once again saluting our comrade as he was brought to the hearse that would take him to Cedar Park.

At the cemetery, the ground soft and muddy, the bugler played the plaintive tones of Taps. Old Glory was lifted from the coffin and the flag folded in the timeless ceremony that links all those who have laid their lives on the line for their country. As the commander of the honor guard handed Mary the flag, I heard him murmur, “We present this flag to you in thanks for the service rendered by your husband for the people of the United States of America.” We saluted Irving for the very last time.

Sr. Vice Commander Irving Hauptman, at ease, sir.

Memories and Memoirs: Write

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Many Holocaust survivors are suddenly realizing that their memories and bodies are frail. As a result, there has been a rush to write memoirs in order to keep the promises made to long departed comrades and family members-the promise to tell the world what happened “dorten”-there. Though their experiences can be compelling, profound, touching and the most terrible stories a person can tell, many survivors never broke the silence–until now. Today, these survivors are waking up to the realization that they want to leave their stories behind for future generations before it is too late, even if they never get them professionally published.

But mainstream publishers are no longer interested in Holocaust memoirs unless they are exceptional. And while every story of every survivor is special, not all of them are of the caliber to attract a commercial market. In this volatile market, where even a best seller isn’t what it used to be, monster hits like The DaVinci Code and Harry Potter are rare indeed. Thus, many books are published privately, some are done in conjunction with others, some are blogged on the net…today there are as many ways of creating a book as there are books-and very few of them are money-making ventures or become movie scripts.

Yad Vashem is contacted by at least 100 survivors a year who want to do their books (the Bertelsmann memoirs project is based there) and at least 200 Holocaust books are published in Israel each year. Other organizations are also considering publishing memoirs that tell the lives of the survivors who helped build them–using them to inspire new members, as fundraising tools and gifts to potential donors-not to mention bookstore sales.

So why write a memoir? For your children and grandchildren. To let them know who you are and where you came from, what your parents were like, how your family lived, what the neighbors were like and what growing pains were like. It’s about how you suffered, endured and came through it, starting life over from scratch, creating new families, new Jewish communities, new facts on the ground.

One woman, who lost her entire family, is writing her book because as she said at a school gathering for four generations of women-from great-grandmother, in this case a Holocaust survivor, to the youngest great-granddaughter-in her wildest dreams in Auschwitz, she never could have imagined that she would have brought forth three generations of Torah-observant women. She has a message she wants to leave them before she moves on to other realms.

For others, writing brings closure. The book becomes the “matzevah”-the memorial stone-that contains the memories and hopes, the dreams of the departed, the ones to whom the promise was made to tell the tale.

Writing is important, it is healing and revealing, yet there are rules. There has to be a beginning, a middle and an end. Life didn’t begin on the day Hitler was elected or on Sept. 1, 1939. And life continued after Liberation. The Before and the After are therefore vital components of a person’s story…even if the memories are the memories of a hidden child who doesn’t remember her parents-for after all, those, too, are valid, self-defining memories.

So first, write. Start at your beginning, with your first memories. Remember sounds, textures, holidays, celebrations, newspapers and fights with your siblings, if you had any, or with your friends. Write about school, or not going to school, about poverty or riches. Do not be afraid to write truth, your truth, and tell your story. Your great-grandchildren will thank you. And succeeding generations will have to continue to create and tell the stories of your family through the stories of their lives.

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