oil and kindness
.
Mrs. Singer collects the rent, and scrubs and sweeps the building. She came to welcome me with her daughter, Beckie, who is a little older than I am. They brought a poppy seed cake. Wasn’t that kind?
The Singers live on the ground floor and pay a reduced rent, Papa says, because she works in the building. Mrs. Singer watches everyone who comes in and goes out, and already I have heard her shout at the lodgers. “Put your cigarettes out! Do you want to start afire?” she hollers
.
Papa explained that fires often start in these wooden tenements. Mr. Singer works with Papa for J.M. Cohen and Co. They are both senior sewing-machine operators in the factory, and that’s how Papa heard about the apartment. He said, when they have an hour to spare, he and Mr. Singer go the public library and play chess. When the evenings are warm enough, they even play outside in Seward Park, and Boris Laski likes to join them
.
Beckie says she will take me to English class, one evening soon. It is free for everyone, Mama, and so is the library. There are lectures and discussions on all manner of things, and you can even take dance classes. I’d like to do that. There is so much to do here that I wonder anyone ever stays home! For five cents – a nickel – you can go to see moving pictures!
Beckie and I went the public baths, which are near us. For a few cents, we were given a square of soap and a clean towel. I stood in a cubicle, and water like warm rain fell down from the ceiling when I pulled a handle. All the dirty water flowed down a drain in the floor. It is so much easier than heating kettle after kettle to fill a washtub in the kitchen. Best of all, I don’t have to throw the dirty water away or scrub out the tub
.
We have a gas meter on the kitchen wall, and if you put a penny in, it heats the water. You do not need to worry, Mama, I will be very careful to save money and not be extravagant. I hope to find work this week
.
Papa showed me the bank where he exchanged the money I had sewn into my skirt hem. Do you know this bank is the tallest building on the Lower East Side? There is a neon sign on top. On one side, the letters are in Yiddish, and on the other, in English. Papa said when the president of the bank came over to America, he started off with a pushcart!
The money I brought from Berlin, after Papa exchanged it, came to twenty American dollars. He is very pleased that it is nearly two months’ rent. He gave me three dollars to buy food
.
We think that we should look for a boarder to help out. It seems wasteful to have four rooms for only two people!
Today, Papa and I went for a walk after supper. I had made him potato knishes – I must have spent an hour grating the potatoes. He said it was so nice to come home after work and eat supper at his own kitchen table. He is happy not to be a boarder anymore
.
He showed me Hester and Orchard streets, where you can hardly walk because of the many pushcarts jostling for room, crammed with all kinds of interesting things. Anything you might want, you can find: boots and shoes, new and secondhand; ladies’ wear; lace and ribbons. There are books, rings and necklaces, clocks, pieces of furniture, gloves and hats, and bolts of cloth
.
Mama, there are shops filled with so much food that my mouth waters, even after I have just eaten! To celebrate my arrival, Papa bought me a sour pickle for two cents. Big wooden barrels of sweet and sour pickles stand on the sidewalks, tempting passersby to go inside the shops
.
It feels good to have a father who takes me out and explains things. Papa wants to make sure that I get used to the Golden Land, and the way of life here, before Istart work. I don’t remember ever spending so much time with him
.
My holiday will end soon. Beckie works for a company that makes shirtwaists. She knows how anxious I am to begin earning my keep, and tomorrow, she will introduce me to one of the supervisors. She says they are
.
Mrs. Singer collects the rent, and scrubs and sweeps the building. She came to welcome me with her daughter, Beckie, who is a little older than I am. They brought a poppy seed cake. Wasn’t that kind?
The Singers live on the ground floor and pay a reduced rent, Papa says, because she works in the building. Mrs. Singer watches everyone who comes in and goes out, and already I have heard her shout at the lodgers. “Put your cigarettes out! Do you want to start afire?” she hollers
.
Papa explained that fires often start in these wooden tenements. Mr. Singer works with Papa for J.M. Cohen and Co. They are both senior sewing-machine operators in the factory, and that’s how Papa heard about the apartment. He said, when they have an hour to spare, he and Mr. Singer go the public library and play chess. When the evenings are warm enough, they even play outside in Seward Park, and Boris Laski likes to join them
.
Beckie says she will take me to English class, one evening soon. It is free for everyone, Mama, and so is the library. There are lectures and discussions on all manner of things, and you can even take dance classes. I’d like to do that. There is so much to do here that I wonder anyone ever stays home! For five cents – a nickel – you can go to see moving pictures!
Beckie and I went the public baths, which are near us. For a few cents, we were given a square of soap and a clean towel. I stood in a cubicle, and water like warm rain fell down from the ceiling when I pulled a handle. All the dirty water flowed down a drain in the floor. It is so much easier than heating kettle after kettle to fill a washtub in the kitchen. Best of all, I don’t have to throw the dirty water away or scrub out the tub
.
We have a gas meter on the kitchen wall, and if you put a penny in, it heats the water. You do not need to worry, Mama, I will be very careful to save money and not be extravagant. I hope to find work this week
.
Papa showed me the bank where he exchanged the money I had sewn into my skirt hem. Do you know this bank is the tallest building on the Lower East Side? There is a neon sign on top. On one side, the letters are in Yiddish, and on the other, in English. Papa said when the president of the bank came over to America, he started off with a pushcart!
The money I brought from Berlin, after Papa exchanged it, came to twenty American dollars. He is very pleased that it is nearly two months’ rent. He gave me three dollars to buy food
.
We think that we should look for a boarder to help out. It seems wasteful to have four rooms for only two people!
Today, Papa and I went for a walk after supper. I had made him potato knishes – I must have spent an hour grating the potatoes. He said it was so nice to come home after work and eat supper at his own kitchen table. He is happy not to be a boarder anymore
.
He showed me Hester and Orchard streets, where you can hardly walk because of the many pushcarts jostling for room, crammed with all kinds of interesting things. Anything you might want, you can find: boots and shoes, new and secondhand; ladies’ wear; lace and ribbons. There are books, rings and necklaces, clocks, pieces of furniture, gloves and hats, and bolts of cloth
.
Mama, there are shops filled with so much food that my mouth waters, even after I have just eaten! To celebrate my arrival, Papa bought me a sour pickle for two cents. Big wooden barrels of sweet and sour pickles stand on the sidewalks, tempting passersby to go inside the shops
.
It feels good to have a father who takes me out and explains things. Papa wants to make sure that I get used to the Golden Land, and the way of life here, before Istart work. I don’t remember ever spending so much time with him
.
My holiday will end soon. Beckie works for a company that makes shirtwaists. She knows how anxious I am to begin earning my keep, and tomorrow, she will introduce me to one of the supervisors. She says they are
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