ABSTRACT

I found the Rav’s wife very little altered even after many years. She was the same quiet, gentle motherly woman with the saintly look, and she welcomed me with outstretched hands and tears of joy, for any one of the younger generation coming back to the colony was in her eyes a child come home, and she herself a mother to us all. She drew me into the living room, where an elderly woman, who was sitting there knitting, rose at the sound of my voice, came and peered into my face and then sat down again without a word. The Rebbitzin gave me a nod and a smile, and presently she said to the knitter: “Well, Beile, is that all the welcome you have for our old friend, Reb Zorach Barnett’s daughter ?”