No Time for Tears by Cynthia Freeman Read Free Book Online Page A

sweet wine. But why was he here with her in the middle of the morning, he looked so out of place. There could be only one reason. Manya’s eyes wandered to Chavala’s middle. It had been after all, six whole months. Well, maybe being thin like Chavala was, she didn’t show. Not like her, she was only in her third month and already she looked like six.
    After their usual amenities they wished one another the happiest of Passovers and that they should all be blessed with good health above all… still, “A little prosperity wouldn’t hurt,” Manya added….
    At home Chavala’s eyes and nose ran as she grated the horseradish root, then mixed the beet pulp, sugar and wine vinegar. Screwing on the top of the jar she laughed, it was so strong that if anything could ward off the evil eye it would surely be the horseradish. Then she began to chop the fish mixture in a large wooden bowl, and as she did so her mother came to mind … among mama’s legacies was the recipe she’d left Chavala, but in mind only. Not written down. Yes, mama’s gefilte fish was the envy of the village.
    Sheine made the matzoh balls, while Chavala basted the chickens, and then together the two sisters put themselves to the task of making the sponge cakes. Sheine beat the egg whites and Chavala the yolks.
    When all the cooking was finally completed, and since Passover had fallen on Friday, at three in the afternoon Chavala went to the mikvah… .
    At the precise moment of the setting sun the family was seated. At the head of the table papa sat in his armchair, surrounded by eiderdown pillows. To his right sat Dovid, Sheine next to him. The closeness to Dovid made Sheine’s pulse beat fast, this was a place she would rather not be. Sheine still lived with her dreadful secret … she was so much in love with Dovid that most of the time she could not even bear to be in his presence, and it was at those times, when he was near, that she was sullen and withdrawn. At nights she would lay awake and listen to the sounds of love beyond the hanging blanket, and out of fear that her sobs would be heard she buried her face in the pillow. To be so in love with her sister’s husband brought pain and shame to her heart. If only she could exchange her place at the table with Dvora, who sat next to her. But this was the way they had always been seated, with Moishe across the table near papa. Chavala stood at the other end of the table dressed in mama’s black silk with the white lace collar and the shawl over her head as she began the ritual of lighting the candles. But, despite herself, instead of listening to the inspired message of Shabbes , Sheine’s thoughts were displaced by envy. Mama had left Chavala the small diamond earrings because she had the good fortune of being the eldest. She also wore the pair of wide gold bracelets that had been Dovid’s mothers. Seeing how brightly they shone in the candlelight, Sheine thought Chavala looked like a queen tonight. She looked like the peasant she was. She bowed her head, not in reverence, but because the sight of Chavala with Dovid was too much for her.
    The seder went on for hours, not a passage was deleted, not a song left unsung.
    Avrum Rabinsky could have told the story of Passover without the aid of a Haggadah. It was a story burned into his mind, so that if he were blind it could still have come from his lips. Uncovering the matzohs and lifting up the plate for all to see, he recited, “This is the bread of affliction which our forefathers ate in the land of Egypt. All who are hungry come and celebrate the Passover with us. Now we are here, next year may we be in the land of Israel. Now we are slaves, next year may we be free men.”
    Moishe looked across the table, where Dovid’s eyes met his and in both the message was clearly understood.
    The plate was then put down and covered with a special fringed napkin and a second cup of wine was filled. It was Raizel’s privilege, being the youngest at the