Memories abound, some positive, some painful.
My face slashed from lip to ear by the pointy barb wire.
“Stay away from the barn! Stop frightening the chickens!”
Farmer Abe chided.
No barb wire would keep us kids away.
Visits to my rich cousin.
A doorman; an elevator.
A large white claw footed tub
Large white plush bath towels.
The smell and taste of that culinary magic
Momma produced from the buckets of
Freshly picked blueberries.
Peirogi, blintzes, pies.
Simpson Street friends sitting on the steps
Cutting Scarlet O’ Hara’s Gone with the Wind clothes.
Crayola crayons filling the coloring books.
Cats jumping into our ground floor window.
“Poppa, this cat has a flashlight!!”
A robber stealing poppas jacket
Weeks pay in the pocket, gone!
Kitchen floor washed for the Sabbath.
The Forwards, all in Yiddish
Neatly placed on the floor
Removed on Thursday, tattered and torn.
Grandma took care of me
Momma sewed hats in a factory.
Naughty child!
Grandma fell running after me.
I killed grandma!
That’s what momma said.
A beautiful dark blue fountain pen
Speckled with sparkling stars.
Just like the summer skies ,
The view from the campfire in the Catskills.
A fountain pen, the treasured birthday gift.
The smell of tomato soup
Emanating from the lunchroom.
The smell of soup; the smell bigotry!
She often reminded my fifth grade class,
“You Jews never knew you had so many holidays
Before Hitler came!”
The sinister smell of bigotry.
Childhood memories abound.
Sounds, scents, sights and taste
Some positive; some painful.
Ethyl Haber
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