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We stayed in The Home for the holidays, although we were invited out. It became a bit complicated... We change witht he passing years, and at this stage in our lives we change quicker! I used to love when things were "complicated"! What fun and what a challenge! But now I shy away from it as much as possible and easy and steady are my guides! It would have been nice to get away for a few hours and be with our family, but... So we stayed at the Home and my first disappointment was that there was no "White Table" in the entrance Hall; they usually have a long table, covered with a white cloth, for the needy. I love the idea; we all have things in our kitchen cupboards that we will never use! What a great idea to give it away! But there was no "White Table" this year and when I asked I was told that there was nobody to make it and take care of it! Too many people left The Home for the holiday. Great pity. Lets hope they will make it for the next holiday!
We ordered the first night's festive dinner; The Home only has the first night and we asked for the same seats as we had last year, the ones not far from the elevators! For a quick and unobtrusive escape? Of course! We dressed accordingly (the L&M looking spiffy in a white shirt and dark long pants) and off we went to face the festivities.
It was much more orderly this year; there were far fewer people and the Hazan was very good, although it occured to us later on that he skipped all the brachot you are supposed to say before the meal! Or didn't we hear him and he did? He was quite far away on the stage and we were...yes! We all had the little "bits" in front of us on the table, so he must have done it! Old age is butting in again.... I hate it!
Last year when we sat down, a woman next to me picked up our seating cards and said: "See? We have the same name! But we are NOT related!". She was quite emphatic about it! I asked her why? And she said proudly: "Because I am from Polania!". I did not say that we were as well and it remained that way. This year, there she was again, not saying anything, but munching through everything her eyes can see... She was wearing a white jacket over something pink and at first I did not react to it at all, but when she went off to the bathroom and I watched her come back, i realised that she was wearing a nightgown! I had three of them when I got married, so I know what they looked like and this was most definitely one of them! Of course I never mentioned it to her and we continued with our meal... OH! But, apropos the nightgown... I must tell you a story.
Before WW2 the best underwear was made in Hungary; the place was famous for it, the people there had wonderful hands and their incredible embroidery was unbelievable and not matched anywhere. So if you could, you bought all your stuff from there. When my mother got married, her complete underwear-wardrobe was ordered from Budapest including nightgowns.
Some of you may know that we were smuggled into Budapest before the end of WW2 and were finally liberated by the Russian army! It took a while, but somehow life became normal again; the Russians stepped back and the Hungarians came out of hiding. Restaurants opened, the theatre, the opera... we all breathed a great sigh of relief. We were renting a room from a woman, who one night came in and said that she had two tickets to the opera, but could not go; would my mother and father like to go?... My father did not want to go, so my mother took me. I think that I was 12 years old and know all about sneaking past borders at night, but opera?... I was totally fascinated! We had great box seats and I was in a world I did not know existed! The downstairs was quite empty and we were told that area was reserved for the Russian army, who were coming with their wives. And in they came, each woman holding proudly the arm of a beautifully uniformed and meddled man. I looked fascinated at the women; they wore pink and white and blue... And it suddenly dawned on me and I turned to my mother and said: "But they are all wearing your nightgowns!". My mother shooshed me and hid me below, because you still were afraid of who may be listening and who they are, and... Yes; it was absolutely true! We found out later that the Russian women, all of them, had no idea that there could be something so beautiful to sleep in! They were all convinced that those were evening gowns and proudly wore them to their (most probably) first opera!
Send your questions to The Wacky Cook: email: debbiemorgenshtern@gmail.com
Debbie Morgenstern is the author of "My Life in Israel" and other short stories.
"My Life in Israel" can be purchased by accessing this link: "My Life in Israel"