Sarah and Solomon

by Roberta Kagan

  “As am I,” Ben said.

  “Come, I want you to meet my wife-to-be.” Solomon put his arm around Ben and began to lead him forward.

  Moishe followed, struggling with his suitcase. Sarah caught up with Moishe and smiled at him. “I’m Sarah Lipman,” she said, the sunlight sparkling in her dark eyes.

  “M-Moishe R-Rabinowitz,” Moishe said.

  “Let me show you to the room we’ve prepared for you and your papa.”

  Moishe followed Sarah quietly. “You are religious?” she asked.

  “I suppose you could say that,” Moishe said. “How did you know?”

  “You wear a kippah.”

  “Oh,” Moishe said, reaching up and touching his yarmulke.

  “Yes, I am religious. It’s a long story, but the man who raised me is very religious. And I admire him a great deal.”

  “Your parents are divorced?”

  “No, my mother is dead. She was killed in a concentration camp. Ben is my birth father. But I was raised by a woman who converted to Judaism and her husband who was raised Hasidic.”

  “My goodness, that's quite a story.”

  “Yes, I suppose it is,” he said, but he was thinking It’s even more complicated than that.

  “I’d love to hear the whole story sometime if you ever want to tell me.”

  He glanced sideways at her. How could I ever tell her my story? It’s so horrible. Would a girl like her ever understand? Besides, she is so pretty. What does she want with me? Don’t delude yourself, Moishe. She is just talking to you to be nice because of Ben and his relationship to Solomon.

  He nodded but didn’t say anything.

  “Oh my, I hope I didn’t offend you. I didn’t mean to ask too many questions. I’m sorry if I pried too much into your personal business.”

  He looked over at her again. This time his eyes caught hers. She is sincere, he thought. She wants to know more about me. “I don’t mind you asking. And I’d be happy to try to tell you anything you want to know. At least, I will tell you what I remember. You see, I was very young . . .”

  “Tell me about what you did during the war, and then I’ll tell you what happened to me. I was very young too. And I am sure that there is a lot I don’t remember. But there is plenty that I can’t forget.”

  The kitchen was alive with women cutting fresh vegetables, braiding challahs, and talking all at once.

  “Tamar, come here. Ben has arrived,” Solomon called out over the voices of the women.

  A pretty girl with long, dark, curly hair and skin the same dark tan color as Uri’s wiped her hands on the apron she wore. There was a thin veil of sweat on her brow, but her smile was sweet. She walked over and put her arms around Ben. “Welcome to Israel! I’ve heard so much about you.”

  “Come on, Tamar. There is no time for you to stand around talking. There is work to be done. It’s almost lunchtime, and we aren’t nearly ready,” an older woman with her hair in a bun on top of her head said.

  “I have to finish my work. Go and show Ben to his room. Let him put his suitcase away and freshen up, then I’ll see you both in the dining room.”

  “She’s bossy but beautiful.” Solomon laughed. “So . . . I overlook her bossiness.”

  Tamar laughed, shook her head, and then turned and went back to work.

  “Sarah and I did not work this morning because we took the time to prepare for your arrival,” Solomon said as he and Ben headed to the rooms that had been prepared for Ben and Moishe. “After lunch I have to go into the fields to pick olives. I know you are probably very tired from the flight today. But perhaps you would like to join me tomorrow? It’s hard work, but in many ways it’s very rewarding to be out in the sunshine. Sometimes I feel that the sun is the face of God smiling down on me,” Solomon said.

  “I would like that.”

  “Good, I’ll come to your room right before dawn. Have you ever seen an olive tree?”

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You’re in for a treat. Just wait until you see these trees.”

  Chapter 78

  Ewa was already sitting at the table when Solomon and Ben arrived. “So this is Ben?” she said to Solomon. The years she’d spent working out in the sun had highlighted her brown hair with gold.

  “Yes,” Solomon said, smiling proudly. “This is Ben.”

  “I’m Ewa.” Ewa hugged Ben. And once again he was taken aback by how friendly and open the people here in Israel seemed to be.

  “I’m Ben Rabinowitz.”

  “I know the infamous Ben Rabinowitz. Sol and Sarah have been talking about you since they were little children.”

  “You raised them?” Ben asked.

  “Sort of. When they ran away from the ghetto, they ended up with a group of partisans. I was one the partisans. It’s a long story. But for right now, let’s enjoy this good food and this wonderful company, yes?”

  “Yes,” Ben said as Ewa passed him a large platter filled with cheese slices and green-pepper strips. Then he was handed a bowl of chopped cucumbers, parsley, onions, and tomatoes drizzled with dark-green olive oil. It smelled so fresh that his mouth watered. Next, came a bowl filled with hard-boiled eggs, followed by a platter of hummus and another platter of soft, flat bread.

  “You’re late,” Ewa said as Sarah and Moishe sat down.

  “I know. I’m sorry. Moishe and I were talking,” Sarah said.

  “Nu? So what did you talk about with this handsome young man?” Ewa kidded her.

  “Ewa!” Sarah said with mock indignation.

  “I’m joking, of course. You don’t have to tell me. By the way, the children missed you today in the kindergarten.”

  “You work in the kindergarten?” Moishe asked Sarah.

  “Yes. I want to be a teacher like Ewa.”

  Ben watched his son. He’d never seen Moishe speak so calmly and openly to someone he’d just met. A smile slipped over Ben’s face. Maybe Uri is right. Maybe Israel is a land of miracles.

  After lunch, Moishe and Ben went back to their room to unpack, and the others went off to their respective jobs.

  Ben watched Moishe clean up before dinner. He’d never seen the boy so meticulous about combing his hair. Life is so strange and wonderful. I’m not much for religion, but I do believe in God. And I have found that sometimes God blesses us in the most unusual ways, Ben thought as he watched Moishe get dressed. This boy is my son, and he is clearly attracted to Sarah who looks just like her mother. The look on Moishe’s face when he looks at Sarah reminds me so much of myself when I was a young man in love with Zelda.

  After dinner, the group made a campfire and everyone, young and old, including the children, gathered around it. One of the young men who lived on the kibbutz brought out a guitar and he began to play. Another man took out a harmonica and joined in. Then everyone sang along. Even though Ben didn’t know the words of the song, which was in Hebrew, he found he was clapping his hands and humming the tune. Sarah and Moishe sat close together. Ben had been worried that Moishe might never have a normal life, but as he watched Sarah and Moishe together he felt encouraged. Moishe is doing so well here. I really wish that Gretchen and Eli could see this.

  Ewa disappeared into the kitchen for a few minutes. When she returned, she brought Ben a piece of chocolate. “This is the best chocolate I’ve ever had,” she said.

  He took it and popped it into his mouth. He closed his eyes and savored the rich flavor. “It’s delicious.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “You know what’s kind of strange? Every time I taste chocolate, it is a reminder to me of how lucky I am to be alive,” Ben said.

  “Hmmm,” she said.

  “That sounds strange, right?”

  “A little, I suppose. But I am sure there is a reason.”

  “There is a reason. You see, when I was in the concentration camp, I used to have dreams of chocolate. Every day, I thought about it at least a dozen times. I would remember how it tasted. And sometimes, if I
tried hard enough, I could feel it melting on my tongue and the sweetness trickling down my throat. I was close to death at that time. But somehow, chocolate represented life to me. Does that make any sense? I felt like the taste of chocolate was the taste of life, and I craved it so much that now when I taste it I feel such gratitude to be alive.”

  They sat outside and listened to the music until it grew dark. Then everyone began to retire for the night. “Time to get some rest,” Ewa said as she stood up to leave and go to her room. “It is a full life we live here, Ben. We work hard; we play hard. We eat good, and we sleep well,” Ewa said. “Would you like me to walk you back to your room?”

  “I would like that very much,” Ben said.

  They began to walk together.

  “You’re a teacher?” Ben asked.

  “Yes, I was a teacher before the war, and I am blessed to be able to enjoy the work I have always wanted to do right here on the kibbutz.”

  Ben smiled.

  “What do you do for a living back in America?”

  “I cut diamonds and precious stones. I work in the diamond district.”

  “Do you enjoy it?”

  “I like the men I work for. They’ve been good to me. But I don’t love the work itself. Some people are mesmerized by the beauty of the stones. Not me. I am more attracted to living things than to stones.”

  “So am I. I don’t care much about inanimate objects. I find my joy in the smile of a child or the beauty of a sunrise. I understand that you like the men you work for. But you should do something you love. You should enjoy every day you are alive. That’s what the horror of the Nazis taught me,” Ewa said.

  “You’re right.” He smiled.

  She tapped him on the shoulder. “Well, we’re here. This is your room. And I’m off to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “I’m going olive picking with Solomon in the morning.”

  “Oh yes? Well, good. Enjoy it.” She smiled, then she turned and walked away. He stood outside the door of his room just watching her until the darkness covered her silhouette and he could no longer see her.

  The following morning just before sunrise, Solomon knocked on the door to Ben’s room. Ben let him inside.

  “You two are still sleeping?” Solomon asked.

  “I guess I didn’t realize what time it was.”

  “Well, it’s all right. But hurry and get dressed. Would you like to join us?” Solomon asked Moishe.

  “No thank you,” Moishe said shyly. Ben thought Moishe seemed to be intimidated by Solomon.

  “All right, tomorrow maybe.”

  “Yes, perhaps.

  As the sun rose in the east, the leaves of the olive trees sparkled in the sunlight. They looked as if they were made of pure sterling silver. Ben was awestruck. “You’re right. This is magnificent.”

  “I told you,” Solomon said, smiling.

  Chapter 79

  That afternoon, Ben and Solomon came in from the fields for lunch. They smelled of fresh air and hard work. Ben smiled at Ewa and she returned the smile. Tamar came out of the kitchen carrying a heavy platter of boiled fish. She sat down beside Solomon. Ben glanced around the table, but he didn’t see Sarah or Moishe.

  “I’d better go and check on my son. He knows that lunch is served at noon,” Ben said, concerned.

  “He’s all right,” Ewa assured Ben. “He and Sarah decided to take a hike. There’s a beautiful waterfall not far from here, and she wants to show it to him.”

  “She told you this?” Ben asked.

  “Yes, of course. She didn’t want me to worry.”

  “I see,” Ben said, but he was quiet for the rest of the meal. While everyone was clearing the tables, Ewa walked over to Ben.

  “Are you upset?”

  “Worried, I suppose.”

  “Why?” Ewa asked with genuine concern.

  “Moishe isn’t a stable boy. He has a lot of problems. He went through a lot during the war and after the war. He lost his mother. And . . . then . . . well . . . he has problems because of me too.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I can’t tell you here. It’s a long story. An ugly story.”

  “If you want to get it off your chest, we could take a walk after dinner tonight. I’ll show you that waterfall I was talking about if you’d like. But we have to before it gets dark.”

  “All right,” Ben said, wondering if he should tell her.

  Chapter 80

  Sarah and Moishe walked side by side.

  “The terrain is uneven and rocky, so be careful,” Sarah said.

  Moishe followed her quietly. They walked up steep hills and down into valleys. As they continued on their journey, Moishe heard the rush of water. Then the land opened up, and there stood a magnificent waterfall. Moishe sighed. “It takes my breath away.”

  “You like it? I knew you would.” Sarah smiled.

  “Of course I do. I never saw anything like it in either New York or in Germany.”

  “Come sit beside me,” Sarah said, sitting down on a smooth rock.

  Moishe did as she asked.

  They were quiet for several minutes watching the water. Then Sarah took Moishe’s hand. “Are you glad you came to Israel?”

  “I am. If I hadn’t come here, I would never have met you.”

  “You are such a shy and quiet fellow.”

  “I know. I hate myself for it sometimes.”

  “But why? I find you fascinating. You’re sensitive and mysterious.”

  “Me?” Moishe laughed a short laugh. “Not at all. Just shy and afraid of my own shadow. I’m uncomfortable in crowds. And until I met you, I had never even talked to a girl.”

  “Well, I’m glad you chose me to be the one to talk to.”

  “So am I,” he said.

  They sat quietly again, and Moishe felt his heart flutter. He had never felt this way about anyone before. Is this love? Is this what love feels like?

  Chapter 81

  Later that evening just before sunset, Ewa and Ben took the same walk that Sarah and Moishe had taken earlier that day. They stopped to sit down and rest. They were only a few feet from the spot where Moishe had Sarah had been earlier that day.

  “I see why Sarah wanted Moishe to see this. It’s quite the landmark.”

  “Israel is full of wonderful things. It’s too bad you’re leaving after the wedding, or I would love to take you to the old city in Jerusalem. It’s really something to see.”

  “The airport was in Tel Aviv. Is it like that?”

  “Not at all. Tel Aviv is a big city. Not as big as New York, but big for us here in Israel. But the old city, now that is holy ground.”

  “You love living here, don’t you?”

  “It saved me. Israel shot life back into me when I wanted to give up. I was lucky to be able to come here after the war with Sarah and Solomon. The war broke me in some ways. You see, while I was struggling to stay alive I didn’t realize how depressed I was, but when the war ended I realized that my heart was broken. I had been so busy just trying to live another day that I didn’t realize the impact it all had on me. After the war I had no choice; I had to come to terms with all of it. I had lost my entire family; they died in Poland. My fiancé, who was a German, was dead, and everyone I knew was gone or scattered. All I had left were two little children that were not even my biological children, Solomon and Sarah. But they needed me. They were alone in the world too, and I loved them. So I couldn’t just give up. I had to find a way to live again. Israel did that for me.”

  “You were engaged to a German Jew?”

  “No, he was a German. He was a deserter from the German army. He was a good person. You see, not all the Germans agreed with Hitler.”

  “You’re Polish?”

  “Yes, a Polish Jew, you can tell?”

  “Of course. I hear it in your accent. How did you learn English?”

  “I learned it at the university.”

  “You speak well.”


  “Thank you.” She smiled. “Do you still speak Polish?”

  “Of course,” he said.

  “Me too. And Yiddish.”

  “Me too.”

  “They say Yiddish is the language of God,” she said seriously.

  “It might be.”

  “Say something to me in Yiddish,” she said.

  “I really like you,” he said in Yiddish.

  “I like you too, Ben Rabinowitz."

  "By the way . . . remember I mentioned that I have been a big part of Moishe’s problems? There is something I must tell you.”

  “It’s all right. Go on. Please, tell me.”

  “Not yet,” he said.

  Chapter 82

  Over the rest of the week, Ben’s days and nights fell into an easy pattern. He worked with Solomon during the day picking olives. While they worked, they each shared the stories of what had happened to them during the time they were separated. They laughed at sweet memories of Solomon’s mother. They talked about her cooking, how she baked bread, and made her own matzo. Then Solomon mentioned the way she always sang him and Sarah to sleep in Yiddish.

  “She always sang slightly off-key,” Ben said.

  “Was she off-key?” Solomon said. “I don’t remember that.”

  “A little. But it was endearing,” Ben said.

  They both laughed.

  “They are good memories. Even if they hurt,” Solomon said. “I wish she had lived.”

  “So do I, but my friend Eli says that no one dies as long as we don’t forget them. We must go on with our lives, but as long as we keep their memories safe in our hearts they are still with us.”

  Ben decided not to tell Solomon about the role he’d played in the murder of Rumkowski. It was a harsh and violent story, and Ben didn’t want to spoil the beauty of the day. Even though he knew that Rumkowski had gotten what he deserved, for some reason Ben felt ashamed of the entire incident.