DR. MOISE WOLF, who died in February of this year, was a sought-after speaker, a psychiatrist, a Yiddishist and a writer.
Growing up in Poland
Manuscript excerpt—second of four
By Dr. Moise Wolf
The following is the second of four excerpts from the first part of the vivid memoirs of Dr. Moisey Wolf, who died in February. Born in Poland in 1922 and a Soviet citizen from 1941 until 1992, when he came to Portland. Dr. Wolf led a life of distinguished achievement that embraced a great variety of languages, cultures, and historical experience, including some of the darkest episodes of the 20th century.
Judson Rosengrant, the translator and editor of the memoirs, is an award-winning specialist in Russian language, history and culture. He lives in Portland.
My relationship with my grandparents Yeruhim and Rivka Wolf was very warm. Their personalities were fundamentally different, but they loved each other until very old age and the end of their days. Grandmother Rivka was strict, serious, and demanding and brooked no opposition. Having herself grown up in the family of a rabbi, she was, unlike Grandfather Yeruhim, very religious. She insisted that we observe all the Jewish traditions and dreamed that someday one of her grandsons would accept the calling of her father…When we were naughty, her punishment was to take away our favorite pleasures. She loved us very much even so, and no one but she had the right to insult or say bad things about us. She looked after the youngest and would buy us various treats and give us presents on the holidays.
Grandfather Yeruhim was the sweetest of men and very kind. We never heard him say anything harsh about anyone, and he wouldn’t allow us to either. He couldn’t bear it when Grandmother Rivka punished us, but he didn’t dare defend us as long as she was around. But when she left he would try in every possible way to mitigate the punishment. If one of his grandchildren got sick, he would remain by the bed and the suffering was evident on his face. He remembered our foot and head sizes and on holidays would buy us shoes and caps that always fit. He was a great organizer of games and loved to joke. His favorite amusement was something called “the beard that never sleeps.” He would pretend to be dozing, the end of his beard resting on the edge of the table. We were supposed to grab hold of it, but we never managed to. At the slightest touch, he would catch our little hands, roar with laughter, and kiss us. He didn’t care about money or wealth. Grandmother would call him a spendthrift, and if it hadn’t been for her, we wouldn’t have had half of what they acquired by their labor. He was a religious skeptic. Although he observed all the traditions and prayed with comical fervor, there was frequently a little smile on his lips expressing resigned doubt at Grandmother’s demands. He loved her very much and always stressed her wisdom and righteousness to us and obeyed her in everything as the “commander” of the household. And she looked after him until the end of her days as if he were a little boy. He was quite careless about his dress and never went out without first submitting to an inspection by her.
Grandmother Rivka liked to tell how she and Grandfather Yeruhim got married. In those days, marriages were arranged by parents who didn’t ask their children what they thought or wanted. Grandmother and Grandfather were wed when she was fifteen and he was sixteen. She saw him for the first time just before going under the huppah or marriage canopy. Grandmother sat covered with her bridal veil and surrounded by her girlfriends, who with the help of a badhen, or specially invited folk poet, were singing laments for the loss of her maidenhood. Although the event took place in the middle of winter, the bridegroom was required to bathe in a ritual font or mihkva. Grandfather, accompanied by the traditional witnesses, went over to his bride, lifted the veil, and gazed at her for the first time. Whether because he was nervous or had hurried in the cold after stepping out of the font, he had failed to dry himself carefully enough, and at the solemn moment of his first look at his bride, drops of water trickled down his nose. But the bride kept her head, and using the handkerchief with which she had been drying her tears, she dried the water on his nose, gave him a broad smile, and shyly looked down. It was a sign that she liked him. And he, after taking a few steps away, suddenly turned round and went back to lift her veil again, smile just as broadly, and make a movement with his lips, thereby kissing her for the first time, if only from a distance.
In November 2006 a committee was formed to promote and support the translation and publication of the memoirs of Dr. Moisey Wolf. If you would like a brochure about the project or more information, please contact Rosanne Royer, Project Coordinator, at 503-646-3717 or rosanneroyer@comcast.net.