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25 Nissan 5761 - April 18, 2001 | Mordecai Plaut, director Published Weekly
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Home and Family
Cast Thy Apples Upon the Water

by Bruchy Laufer

"Into bed right now!" Ms. Crow cried shrilly.

"But I'm hungry," wailed little Hindy.

Ms. Crow glared at Hindy and repeated her command more toughly this time. Ms. Crow was the house mother in a New York based refugee orphanage. Never having experienced the emotion called love herself, she couldn't bring forth any for her charges. She ruled with an iron fist and made sure everyone knew who was the undisputed boss.

A whimpering Hindy dashed past Ms. Crow and up the stairs before she was grabbed by the scruff of her neck and given a sound spanking. It was the routine punishment for anyone who dared break any of the one thousand house rules. The children under the age of nine quickly got into pajamas and neatly placed their shoes under the chair next to each bed. Each child received a bed quilt and pillow of their own. Everything else was shared communal style. It was a year after W. W. II and clothes were not available in abundance. The housemother distributed clean clothes to each child according to size. The government allotted ample amounts of food, but Ms. Crow didn't see that a young child would know how much food was enough. "You must learn to be happy with what you have!" she taught them in her perverted way. "Why, just a short while ago, many people didn't have any food at all and you complain?" With stern accusing eyes she would look the child up and down until the unhappy creature would have been happy to disappear under the wornout linoleum. After a few such exchanges, most children learned to make peace with their lot.

Hindy, however, at age five, was not old enough to understand the ramifications of such philosophical teachings and continued weeping under her pillow to stifle the sound. She was lucky enough to have her older sister, Blimtche, living together with her in the orphanage, and counted heavily on Blimtche's ability to help her straighten out any rough spots as they came along.

Blimtche was a kindhearted girl who would comfort the other small children as well. "Who is On Duty tonight?" came Ms. Crow's loud voice. She never went upstairs to tuck in the children by herself. Each one of the older girls was "on duty" a different night when it was her job to see that the children went to sleep without a fuss. Whenever Ms. Crow felt slight compunctions about the setup, she would reassure herself that her feet were overstrained by running after those ungrateful rascals all day.

Now, with a very, very audible sigh, she pulled over the footstool to the couch and put her feet up. Tonight was Blimtche's turn as O.D. Nobody else was allowed upstairs at the younger children's bedtime. The reasoning behind it was that the younger children wouldn't be able to fall asleep with people coming and going into their rooms. Deep down, Ms. Crow knew that this was just a pretext; really, she didn't want the children to have any time to discuss their grievances with each other, since this would undermine her authority. Blimtche raced upstairs and headed for her sister's bed. "What is it, Hindy?" she asked tenderly. Her heart ached for her younger sister who couldn't recall the image of their own gentle mother. At least, she had recollections of easier times. "Hindy, do you hear me? I'm going to bring you an apple. Please stop crying." Hindy stopped whimpering and was hicupping by now. She peeked out from under the pillow and gave a tearful smile to her sister and squeezed her hand gratefully. Hindy trusted her sister implicitly and knew she would manage to bring the promised apple even against the greatest odds. You had to be very determined to try and get an apple when it wasn't snack time. Ms. Crow kept the fruit bowl out in full view on the kitchen table where she was able to keep her bird's eye vigil against anyone having the courage to be hungry when she didn't say so. It was situated at an angle that Ms. Crow could see from her seat on the living room couch.

Visitors, like the women from the Red Cross, assumed that food which was kept in view of the children was probably available to them to help themselves. They were wrong. But Blimtche would do anything for her younger sister, even risk the wrath of the angry Crow. She went back downstairs to the fleishige dishes and with a flourished swish of the dishtowel, managed to upset the fruit bowl so that apples were rolling all over on the otherwise spotlessly clean kitchen floor.

The immediately expected reaction didn't surprise Blimtche.

"Why are you so clumsy? Why did you have to swing the dishtowel in such a carefree way? Can't you be more serious about the work, more careful in the way you do things? Why can't you foresee the consequence of your actions beforehand? Don't you have eyes? If you didn't need to use them, they wouldn't have been given to you in the first place!"

Blimtche wasn't listening to the litany. She could probably have rattled off the whole list of complaints by heart or a plausible variation thereof. "And make sure you pick up every last apple from the floor. If I find a single apple behind the pantry tomorrow, you forfeit your privileges for the next two days," finished Ms. Crow from her perch in the living room.

The other two girls busy with their chores in the kitchen didn't dare help Blimtche pick up the stray fruits. Esther and Rivky knew that acts of solidarity were immediately surpressed in this place.

As she went about picking up the apples, Blimtche deftly dropped one into her apron pocket and then proceeded to restack them prettily in the bowl, making sure that no absence could be detected.

"Blimtche," came the very order she was waiting for, "run upstairs now and check if anyone is whispering." She strutted up the stairs like a cultured young lady, to please Ms. Crow who was a stickler for posture and deportment, but as soon as she was past the landing and safely out of sight of the housemother, she made a dash for Hindy's room.

"Let's make a brocha together," she said, handing her sister this rare, luscious treat. After making the rounds and patting the four other children and tucking in their covers, Blimtche went back down to report that everyone was quiet.

Getting dressed in the morning was an experience as well. Though most of their classmates at school also wore clothes from the Salvation Army outlets, Ms. Crow had a knack for picking out the ugliest jumpers, the most pimpled pullovers and the thickest long cotton stockings. When the weather got cold, Ms. Crow would find vintage oversized nightgowns of the 1900s and cut off part of the sleeves to create hats and scarves. "I refuse to wear this," eight-year-old Fraidy protested bravely the first time. "I don't want everyone laughing at me in school!"

"Your choice, Fraidy," Ms. Crow said crisply, her arms jutting at a sharp angle from her hips. "Either you go to school with this or else the big black truant officer will come and get you!" she ended triumphantly.

Fraidy knew she'd be better off going to school and finding a strategic spot somewhere where she could remove the ignonimous head gear and hide it in the dark depths of her big black brief case cum school bag. Everyone was afraid of the big black truant officer.

On the way home from school, Fraidy would step into an alley before turning the corner and put on the hat 'n scarf in a way Ms. Crow would approve.

*

Years passed, the children were married off and went on with their own private lives. Blimtche married a wonderful young man who had a hard time making a living in the city. They decided to move to a recently established community in the suburbs where they found themselves a simple, small country style house which was affordable and had a basement where Reuvain started a home business. Much to the family's delight, the venture turned out to be more successful than they had imagined and before long, the downstairs was too small for managing their large enterprise. The office had to be moved to the main business section of town. By the time the first fiscal year came to an end, Reuvain had a small fortune in his bank account.

"It sure feels good to be able to stretch a bit," he mused one afternoon, as he rose from his swivel chair. He walked over the big bay window and reminisced at the quick transformation from struggling young man to a rich fellow.

In a heightened mood of elation, he got into his car and headed for home. "Funny, I never noticed how pretty this town really is." As he turned into his street, he was surprised to see that he didn't actually know his own street, either. For the property right next to his house seemed to have turned into a blossoming orchard overnight! Reuvain knew that was highly unlikely. He realized that he had been so busy worrying about parnossa for his family that he had never observed his pastoral surroundings.

A great feeling of thankfulness for all of his blessings overcame him and he decided to do something concrete to express it. Reuvain was aware that all of his blessings were directly connected to his wife and her perennial good deeds. He decided to show his appreciation by buying the apple orchard next to their property as a surprise gift.

A few weeks later, on a beautiful Sunday morning when the family was having lunch together, Reuvain presented Blimtche with a yellow manilla envelope. In it was a deed to the apple orchard. As she untied the red ribbon, her attention was diverted by a loud flapping at the open window. Turning her head to see the cause of the commotion, she saw a big black crow drop a shiny red apple on the window sill before flying off...

 

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