Part VII
Going Out to the Settlements
With the end of winter, the classes were closed and all the
volunteer teachers were sent home. Even after the transit
camps shrank and the immigrants were sent to permanent
settlements, the holy work didn't stop. Sometimes a school
grew and became established and in other cases, it was a big
disappointment to the teachers and public activists.
"Messilat Tzion and Eshtaol were two settlements in the
Jerusalem corridor to which, in the main, the immigrants from
Yemen were sent," says S. "The immigrants were divided like
flocks of sheep, sent here and there without being consulted.
Three of us friends went out to Eshtaol, not far from Shaar
Hagai, in order to meet our students from the transit camp.
We hoped that we'd be able to organize a religious school for
them in the new settlement. "And as if a whole year hadn't
passed, the girls came out to greet us affectionately and
accompanied us to their homes while their parents voluntarily
signed up to give their daughters a religious education. With
the complete list in our hands, we left the settlement hoping
to return as teachers there.
"The list was presented to the Ministry of Education and soon
we received official permission to open a Bais Yaakov school
in Eshtaol. We equipped ourselves with notebooks, books,
writing utensils and we set out once again for the promising
settlement. And then, when we were in Eshtaol, we received a
strange and indifferent welcome. No one came out to meet us
and a several of the girls who saw us whispered to us with
serious faces, `Teacher, forbidden! Teacher, forbidden!'
"While we were wondering what the meaning of this warning
was, one of the secular officials of the settlement came out
to meet us and wanted to know what we wanted. We explained
that we had come to open a school and that we had permission
from the Ministry of Education. `This settlement belongs to
us,' the man proclaimed, `and you have no right to teach
here! We are giving the immigrants work and we will also open
a school for them. Get out of here, you have nothing to look
for here.'
"We told him that he couldn't chase us away from a public
settlement that was open to all and he answered impudently,
`You can walk around, but I will follow you and you'll see
that no one will want to learn with you.'
"He was right. The immigrants ignored us, apparently from
fear of the man. When he turned away for a moment, one of the
immigrants said to us that, a few days before, the Jewish
Agency representatives had gathered the immigrants together
and told them, 'We're giving you work and they'll come and
teach? Whoever learns at their school won't get any work.
Besides, members of his family still in the transit camp
won't be allowed to transfer to the settlement.' That's how
they sabotaged the school and it didn't happen."
In the Messilat Tzion settlement, the situation was similar.
There, too, registration had taken place but it was nipped in
the bud by the people whose goal it was to distance the
children of Israel from Jewish tradition.
In contrast to the burning failure in these settlements, not
far from there at the Har Tov transit camp, which is today
Beit Shemesh, the girls succeeded. The camp was spread out
like a sea of tents behind ten permanent buildings, which
made up Beit Shemesh.
"While I was the secretary of Keren Torah, I was sent to open
a school at the Har Tov transit camp," relates Rav Samuel.
"We got 130 children, a tumbledown shack as a place to learn
and we set up a school. It's important to note that the
registration issue was a big problem. The parents had to
register their children at the David building in the
registration wing of the Ministry of Education in Jerusalem
and we had to bring them one by one to the office where they
presented them with the different options for educating their
children. They had to declare that they wanted the education
of Agudas Yisroel. Until the registration itself, the parents
suffered pressure and threats with the state education
representatives warning them that they would lose their jobs
if they didn't send their children to them."
Mrs. S., who was sent as a teacher to the Bais Yaakov school
at the Har Tov transit camp, had an interesting experience.
"I got off the bus and I wanted to know where the school was.
A resident of the place pointed to a building on the hillside
and I began walking towards it, thinking to myself: 'Nu, the
building doesn't look too terrible.' When I got there, I
discovered that there was no one in the building, although
around it there were twenty girls, some of whom had kerchiefs
on their heads. "'I'm the teacher!' I announced and they
followed me without a word into the class. We talked, sang,
danced and suddenly a tall man came in with a kibbutz sun-cap
on his head. 'What are you doing here?' he asked me. 'I'm the
teacher,' I said boldly, 'I was sent from Jerusalem to
teach!' 'Excellent,' was his reaction, 'Let's go talk in the
office.' When there were no girls around, the man who
introduced himself as the principal said, "You should know
that everyone here is a fanatic. This is a problem. Come back
tomorrow and we'll see what can be done.'
"Afterwards, when I was back with the girls, they whispered
to me about the man: 'He's a Goy.' Pretty soon the
misunderstanding was cleared up. The school I had entered by
mistake belonged to Mapai and when the principal understood
that he had a Bais Yaakov teacher in front of him, he
arrogantly informed me that he had previously been a farmhand
and now he was running the school. 'That's the Bais Yaakov',
he pointed condescendingly to a shack on the verge of
collapse down in the valley. I went back to my proper place,
looking painfully at the Torah-observant girls in the hands
of the Mapai cowhand."
"At all of sixteen, I was sent to work with the kindergarten
children in Har Tov," recalls Mrs. R. "Sixty children were
crowded into a small shack and I was the kindergarten
teacher. The children got meals and, inasmuch as only 45
children were officially registered, we always had to request
additional meals. The people in charge arrived, in order to
make sure everything was authorized. But I, who two minutes
earlier finally succeeded in seating the sixty tots, didn't
allow anyone under any circumstances to disturb them and the
appointees left as they had come. Later, Rav Yitzchok
Loichter, one of the local educators, told me that it was the
hand of Providence that the secular officials didn't notice
that the number of children surpassed what was written on
their list. The schemes against chareidi institutions
continued. They tampered with the locks, and on official
registration days, they ambushed the children in order to
transfer them to general institutions."
The kindergartens and daycare centers of Bais Yaakov that
were opened in the immigrant transit camps around the country
also served as a sanctuary from the missionaries who found
fertile ground for activity. The innocent and poor immigrants
welcomed the emissaries from the mission gratefully and were
happy for all suggestions for help and support. Many children
were the pledge for continued help and the missionaries were
pleased when, with a little effort, they were able to take
pure Jewish souls under their wings.
In order to outweigh the bounty offered by the mission for
its beneficiaries, hot meals were given to the children in
the kindergartens. Quite often, this was the only hot meal
that the child received during the day. In this way, these
kindergartens were able to save tender souls and some of
these children, who had already learned in the mission
schools, transferred to these kindergartens and merited a
pure Jewish education.
