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47 pages

English

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Description

This multi volume collection of stories takes place in the fictional shtetl of Patchentuch, located somewhere in the backwater of Eastern Poland in the late nineteenth century. The stories tell of the lighthearted adventures and misadventures of the town’s residents, and they transcend the grim reality of shtetl life to a more light hearted place. My hope is that the tales will provide the same pleasure for the reader that I derived from creating them.

Sujets

Fiction

Short Stories

Short story

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Publié par	AuthorHouse
Date de parution	20 janvier 2023
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781728378145
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0200€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

Shtetl Tales
Volume Six
Eleanore Smith

AuthorHouse™
1663 Liberty Drive
Bloomington, IN 47403
www.authorhouse.com
Phone: 833-262-8899

© 2023 Eleanore Smith. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 01/19/2023

ISBN: 978-1-7283-7815-2 (sc)
ISBN: 978-1-7283-7814-5 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.
Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.
Contents
Acknowledgements
PART ONE
Gimpel’s Dream
An Extra Day In Patchentuch
Perchik Is Clueless
Gimpel’s Gliders
The Cohens Go To Market
Tevya’s Watch
Bupkis
The Proposal
The Gift
Sadie And The Yentas
Visitors To Patchentuch
Gimpel Relaxes
A Decision In Patchentuch
Pesha’s Idea
Solomon’s Inspiration
The Rebbe Forgets
The Chanukah Miracle
Patchentuch Relatives
Shmulik’s New Boat
Schlamazel Takes A Bath
The River’s Bounty
A Boat In Schmertzburg
Pinchas Has An Idea
Zelig’s Cold Feet
Shlomo Mispeaks
Alice’s Story
Gimpel’s Cousin
PART TWO
An Immigrant’s Story
Patchentuch Neighbors
Acknowledgements
I wish to dedicate this collection to the memory of my parents (Bertha and Philip Kastel), to the memory of Dr. Sumner Smith, to Len Paris, my editor, to my children (Karen, David and Heidi) and their spouses, to my grandchildren and their spouses, and to my great grandchildren.
Part One
Gimpel’s Dream

Bluma sold flowers in the market place, and to Gimpel her smile was like sunshine on a beautiful bloom. He dreamed about her at night, but he could not summon the courage to speak to her in person. It was only when Bluma brought in a pair of shoes to be repaired at Shmelke’s Shoes, where Gimpel worked, that she noticed him at all. In her eyes he was just a shoemaker, handsome to be sure, but in Gimpel’s eyes she was a goddess. When he discussed Bluma with his adoptive mother, Rose Kvetchernick, he confessed his feelings for Bluma and his difficulty in simply introducing himself.
“So, Gimpel darling, just saying hello or good morning can’t be so hard, can it?” Rose asked her adopted son.
“If it wasn’t I would not be seeking advice,” Gimpel confessed.
“Such a problem,” remarked Rose, who had never married. “Thank God,” she told Gimpel, “that I never had to face such a dilemma involving affairs of the heart, but I fear I have little experience to help you.” Nonetheless, they discussed the problem further, still leaving the shy Gimpel confused as to how he could respectfully proceed in regard to Bluma without offending her.
In her attempt to help him, Rose confidentially shared Gimpel’s dilemma with her group of yentas, who were sympathetic, and who offered advice of every kind, as they were wont to do. Some had sons of their own, and had experienced the problems of love sick young men. Faigele, who only had daughters, suggested that Gimpel visit Bluma’s flower stall and buy flowers each week for Rose to celebrate Shabbos, but that would involve spending extra money which he did not have. Rose told Faigele that Gimpel had already had an opportunity to speak with Bluma when she visited Shmelke’s Shoes, but because the shy young man was tongue tied in her presence there had been no conversation. It appeared to all the yentas that until Gimpel, himself, could muster the courage to speak to the beautiful Bluma, it would be a hopeless situation. Ida Finklestein suggested that Gimpel only buy one bunch of flowers for Rose, requesting assistance from Bluma in the selection of blooms. In that way it wouldn’t cost too much money, and would be an excuse for beginning a conversation between the the two young people. Not a bad idea, but it didn’t happen that way.
On the day that Bluma returned to Shmelke’s to pick up her shoes, she told Gimpel that they were perfect, and she thanked him, and paid her money. She smiled her ready smile, while melting the heart of the love sick Gimpel. Before she left the shop with her shoes, she happily chatted with the young man, whom she secretly thought quite handsome, and her sunny disposition proved to be as bright as her smile. Her cheerful conversation encouraged the bashful Gimpel to respond, and for the moment he forgot his reticence. An actual conversation followed, the proverbial ice was broken, and Gimpel was no longer afraid. What he didn’t know was that Ida Finklestein, one of the yentas, had casually, and in confidence, dropped a hint to Bluma’s mother, Pesha, whom she knew, about Gimpel’s infatuation. Because Bluma was flattered by the interesting news that her mother related, it was she who made the first move that Gimpel had been reluctant to make. With the approval of the families, the two were allowed to become better acquainted, and because this was Patchentuch, it all proceeded as it should. A shidduch was eventually arranged and Gimpel’s dream became a reality. The young couple fell in love, and they enjoyed many long and happy conversations together, in which, of course, Bluma did most of the talking, as she did following the shidduch and subsequent marriage.
An Extra Day In Patchentuch

It was at a Patchentuch Town Council meeting, still chaired by Mayor Moishe Kapoyer, that the subject of the calendar was raised. Moishe had scheduled the next meeting for February 28, the last day of the present month, in order for members to review the month’s accomplishments, reconcile the books, and make plans for March.
“But February 28 is not the last day of this month, Moishe,” Schmendric Teitlebaum informed the Mayor.
“Of course it is the last day of this month, as it is every year,” replied Moishe.
“Not this year it isn’t,” Schmendric stated.
“And why not?”
“Because this is the year when we add one extra day to the calendar at the end of February,” but not all the Council members were convinced, including the Mayor.
“And how do you know this?” asked Shlomo Lochinkopf.
“I know this because Melech Liebehertz reminded me.”
“So what does this mean?” inquired Herschel Dreiblatt.
“It means,” explained Schmendric, “that this year, as it is every four years, in case you too may have forgotten, we add an extra day at the end of February.”
“And so why do we do such a thing?” some of the bewildered members asked.
“In case you haven’t heard,” Schmendric explained, “every 1,460 days, as I understand it from Melech we need to add one extra day to keep the seasons going right.”
“Ridiculous,” some said. “The seasons will come and go as they always do, no matter what you say, Schmendric.”
“Melech explained to me,” Schmendric told the group, beginning to lose patience with the failing memories of his old friends “that if we didn’t have that extra day every four years, we would have summer in winter, and winter in summer. It could take many years for that to happen, but happen it would, and so to keep things straight we must have a February 29 th every four years.”
“This is impossible,” the members of the Council replied in unison.
“Would you want snow in summer or heat in February?” Schmendric shouted at the group of intransigent old men.
“Nonsense,” they responded, just as loudly, “this could never happen, no matter what Melech Liebehertz says.”
“Would you want mud in the streets and lanes from spring rain in January?” continued a frustrated Schmendric, still trying to convince the skeptics.
“And I suppose without this one extra day every four years that you speak of, the world would all of a sudden become crooked and gravity would fail,” shouted Shlomo Lochinkopf.
“Of course not, you old fool, but who knows what might happen,” Schmendric responded, but wouldn’t it be better to be safe rather than sorry?”
After further lengthy discussion centering around the next meeting of the Mayor’s Council in regard to the calendar, it was decided that it might be best to respect the opinion of Melech Liebehertz, who was indeed educated and learned. What would it hurt to recognize a 29 th of February every four years if the consequences for not doing so might prove detrimental to the welfare of the town.
“Besides,” Schmendric added, as a final argument to clinch the deal, “the whole world has a February 29 th every fourth year, including Schmertzburg, and if we don’t, we will be the laughing stock for miles around.
As a result the vote was unanimous, and the last meeting of the month was scheduled for February 29 th not the 28 th , as originally planned. In the meanwhile the Mayor would have a little talk with Melech Leibehertz on the subject. He would request a more detailed explanation of the calendar and how it works, and in the interim he would not be concerned about a snowstorm in July.
Perchik Is Clueless

For most people a wedding anniversary is a happy time to be remembered. For Perchik Schmaltzberger, grandson of Zelig, his first anniversary was almost a disaster. Some had commented that Perchik, a nice enough fellow, who had recently married, may have inherited his grandfather Zelig’s lack of awareness and common sense. Zelig, also a good fellow, was rather forgetful a