Kristallnacht: Chapter I

Chapter I: Books1

Books, books, books. There was something very beautiful about books; I learned that very quickly. Mother said that before I could speak, I would pick up books and try to read them. Their backs of leather and dresses of paper were always so lovely, no matter how many times they were read through. Books were the dearest friends in the world—the only true friends in the world. They were faithfully there, waiting for me to give them attention and read them. 2

Ulanow had a beautiful library, filled with rows after rows of books. Big books, small books, old books, new books, boring books, and books that were made to never be put down. I told my little sister that one day, I would read every book in the library. She gave a hidden laugh, and reminded me that that would be a very big task to take on. Yet everyday I could, I went and read books, digging deeper and deeper into the shelves of books. 3

Mother always said that we were very lucky to have books and a large library. Not all Jewish communities could afford that. From the very beginning, she trained me in how to treat books with respect; they were voices that never died, and would be passed on to the next generation. She told me that if all was quiet and I read very quietly, listening, a book may just speak to me. On a few precious days, I did.4

Father said I should not be reading so many books, but that I should follow the way of becoming a woman—learning to cook and clean and have children. At those words, I cringed. It sounded so boring. And I almost told him that too. But it just seemed best to do what he said, sneaking books from under his nose. He never suspected a thing. 5

There was one day that mother said to me, “Rifka—in a few weeks, you’ll be going to a place called school—and you will get to read many many books,” 6

My eyes opened wide in delight and disbelief at such an amazing idea. “What kind of books?”7

“Oh all sorts of books,” she smiled, giving me a hug. “Books about language, Hebrew, and perhaps you may learn a bit of English,” I must have radiated with shock since she gave a sweet laugh, “And history, Jewish history—you will learn about your people,” That was when Mother seemed to light up from everything in her. Mother, I discovered right away, was terribly proud of her people and culture, and wanted me to know everything about my people and culture as well.8

“Many men think—that Israel is weak, nothing compared to the Europeans, and that it has nothing of value. But they are wrong, terribly wrong,” her hazel eyes glistened. “They think it is—because we are so scattered, so far away from our homeland. But that is what proves our strength. We have endured this separation. Even though we are broken, we continue on. One day, you will understand that. One day, you will know our history—and you too can tell of our endurance.” She smiled softly. “Be proud to be a Jew,” And I was. 9