A woman of courage

This is my paternal grandmother Sarah, on the right, next to cousins she was visiting in Scotland.  Since all my grandparents came from Poland and Russia, I've always seen those Scottish cousins as exotic.  And her ability to go from Poland all the way to Scotland and back seems to demonstrate her daring.

My paternal grandfather Louis came to the US in 1905, along with other Eastern European Jews seeking the opportunity to work and be safe.  Sarah remained behind with their newborn daughter Esther and Sarah's sister Rose.  It took nearly two years for Louis, working as a carpenter, to raise the money to bring them over, and it reached Sarah after Esther had turned two.  Once Sarah, Rose and Esther reached Rotterdam, they learned that while there was no charge for children under two, a fare was charged for those over two.  Sarah didn't have the money.

She went up to the ticket counter and asked for two adult passages.  The ticket man asked how old Esther was - Sarah said she was 23 months old.  The man said she's at least two, you'll have to pay for her passage.  Sarah reiterated that Esther was not yet two and she needed only two fares.  She took out her money and laid it on the counter.  The man brought out two adult and one child tickets.  Sarah stared at him for a while, then pushed the child ticket back to him, saying "You've made a mistake."  They stood there for a long time, eye to eye, and finally the man took back the child ticket and let Esther go through as a free child.  So they were able to move on to their free life in America.

The courage she showed in dealing with those obstacles to getting here has always made me admire her greatly.  She was a very quiet woman who had poor English, Yiddish being her native tongue, but she showed her love through cooking.  I was fourteen when she died after a long illness, and I have mourned her ever since.  I wish I had her courage, but I try to be worthy of her.