Chapter 5

In the shop from which we used to buy on credit and later repay, we nevertheless always remained in debt, because our income was insufficient, as stated above. Now, however, when the fire of high prices and the shortage of goods burned in the streets, the shopkeeper would naturally give us only a little; and even that little cost more than what we had formerly taken. In sum, our condition deteriorated greatly. The children too were becoming very sick and weak, and there was not even a little kerosene with which to cook and heat water—especially for such a small infant of only a few months, whose food had to be prepared exclusively by cooking, etc.—nor kerosene for a lamp, etc. I could not obtain it, for beyond the lack of money, it could not be obtained at all.

The kerosene arrangements were as follows. At first, in Elul, the government instituted an order that each shop could sell each of its customers only three okkiyos [measures] of kerosene per day. This arrangement was good for us, for there was no need to press oneself forward. Although we could not take it every day for two reasons—first, because the shop would no longer give it to us on credit as before, and second, because we had no money with which to buy it—we borrowed money from the neighbors and purchased it several times a week.

Afterward a new arrangement was made: the shops were forbidden to sell kerosene, and the government itself sold it in the open area where the automobile arriving from outside the city stood, near Zion Gate. It was then exceedingly difficult to obtain. Men and women stood in mixed lines; one had to remain for hours beneath the sun, and many times people returned empty-handed because the supply did not last until their turn.

I once stood there for several hours, but could not bear the intermingling. (At that time my wife went with the little child to Dr. Kagan because he was ill and weak. She said that all his weakness was because he required “filnish,” etc. [The exact referent of this foreign period term is uncertain.]) I therefore had to return home to the children. I left the son of my friend Yaakov Zev in my place, but in the end he obtained kerosene for himself while we remained without it. From then on I did not stand there again, for I said that it was not worthwhile for me to waste time standing amid an intermingling of men and women for so many hours, day after day. I would only borrow money from the neighbors from time to time for the kerosene urgently needed; either my son or my wife would stand in line for several hours. Often they returned empty-handed, though sometimes they obtained some.

Later another arrangement was introduced: the government itself no longer sold the kerosene, but permitted the shops to sell each of their customers three okkiyos each day. This made matters still harder for us. The shop from which we had always bought on credit began refusing us credit, particularly because the Gemilus Chesed [charitable relief fund] had publicized that it would sell cheaply to yeshivah students. One had to pay a membership fee of twenty-five grushim (this money would not be refunded), and afterward pay cash for bread coupons and several other items for the entire week. I borrowed the aforementioned sum, paid it there, and for several weeks purchased with cash. I therefore stopped buying at the former shop.

I owed that shop several pounds. Its proprietors were harsh people and pressed me greatly; I could scarcely walk through the market, for they subjected me to humiliations so that I would pay them, etc. Whenever money came into my hands, I was compelled to pay part of the debt, aside from the new debts arising at the shops for our food. Our situation was therefore extremely straitened and dreadful—literally a danger to life.

Now that my kerosene allocation was assigned to her shop, the only possible way to obtain it was to go to the government and report that she was not selling us our share. We did not wish, Heaven forbid, to inform on her. We therefore suffered for several weeks, having nowhere to buy even a little kerosene. It was in such cold weather, our house was bitterly cold, and especially because the windows stood open: the panes had fallen and shattered, and we could not repair them. The windows were worn out and would have to be repaired and replaced, which required several pounds that we did not have. I had already spoken with the administrators of Batei Machaseh and asked them to repair this, but they said that they had no money for it. Thus to this very day we sit in such cold with small children, suffering hunger and cold. May Hashem have mercy.

The other shops naturally refused to sell to us, since we had never been their customers. This was a great affliction for us. I pleaded much with Hashem, and I also appealed to a shop near our home to have pity and sell us a little, but the proprietor said that he could not: he had his own customers, and the government supplied him according to an exact quota.

I had already spoken once with our friend Rabbi Mordechai Weingarten, head of the Old City committee, asking him to speak to that shopkeeper so that he would sell me a little kerosene. He said that he would do so even though it was not permitted, but he did not do it either. Even had he spoken, it would have accomplished nothing, for the shopkeeper said, “Should I not give the share to one of my own customers, and instead give it to him?!” I saw that my distress was truly severe. I prayed that Hashem have mercy upon us, and went once again to the shop near our home. I asked the proprietor to pity us and act for the sake of His blessed Name. I told him the entire story—how we had been sitting all this time without kerosene, with small children—and promised that from then on I would purchase everything from him.

He replied that he would sell me as much kerosene as I needed and that I would have priority over all his other customers—not because I would purchase everything from him, but solely for the mitzvah. Even if I bought nothing from him, he would still sell me kerosene before anyone else. He kept his word. What can we say, and what can we speak, of the World to Come he acquired for himself by keeping us alive! This did not last long, for soon every shop had as much kerosene for sale as people desired. Nevertheless, my wife and I agreed to purchase everything from him. It was not worthwhile to buy from the Gemilus Chesed, since its prices were no cheaper, and it required cash in advance for the entire week—something utterly impossible for me. As soon as money came to me, not a single perutah remained after paying the debts we had incurred throughout the month at the shops and had still not settled; immediately I had to rack my brain to borrow again.

Many sufferings passed over me, especially through my wife, whose continual weeping over the pitiful state of the children darkened my mind. Particularly when I came home on Erev Shabbos with the news that one pound had been deducted from me, the magnitude of our grief cannot be described. It was literally a miracle that we did not lose our minds from suffering, privation, and poverty. But I strengthened her, saying that, with Hashem’s help, Dr. Spiegel—who knew the child’s condition and how he required strengthening and filnish—would help us in this matter. And so it was. Yet may Hashem have mercy, for this was literally a danger to life; may Hashem have mercy.