Mesirus
nefesh. It’s a concept that is difficult to understand in our generation of
instant gratification. I believe that today’s flourishing Torah communities are
a direct outgrowth of the previous generation’s mesirus nefesh for Yiddishkeit.
Today, the choices are far more subtle, yet they, too, will have a profound
influence on future generations.
When Surie
Minzer was wrenched away from her beloved family in Yowosna and taken to the
Hannesdorf Slave Labor Camp in Czechoslovakia
She was
lucky, however -- the Germans allowed her to bring along a few belongings: a
siddur, a diary, some clothes. She also knew that she still had a family, and
that they loved her dearly. Most important of all, she had inherited a strong
and solid belief in Hashem. She knew that even in that hell on earth, He was
with her, and that no matter what happened, He would never leave her. That
knowledge gave her the strength to survive.
Surie was
the youngest of a large Chassidishe family. Some of her brothers and sisters
were already married, and she adored them as they adored her. Now, however, she
could only dream of seeing them, and express her dreams twice a month in a
carefully worded postcard.
As Pesach
drew near, Surie wondered how she could survive eight days without her daily
slice of bread. In carefully couched terms, she wrote to her father, who was
interned in the Sasnowitz ghetto, asking for his advice in how to obtain food
that was not chametz.
Surie’s
father wrote that her mitzvah was to survive, and if that meant that she would
have to eat chametz, then it was a mitzvah to eat the chametz. In
the present circumstances there was no other choice; she must do everything in
her power to remain alive.
Surie,
however, felt that she must do whatever she could to refrain from consuming chametz
on Pesach. So everyday she smuggled a few turnips under her armpits into the
factory where she worked and surreptitiously stuffed them into the hollowed-out
bottoms of sewing machines – to be retrieved later, on Pesach.
Surie was
secretly thrilled. Although outwardly she remained humble and subservient, she
was a rebel, in the midst of a spiritual revolt. No matter what the Nazis would
do to tear her away from her heritage, she would defy them and remain a Yid,
proud of her royal lineage. She would never surrender her internal
dignity.
After
several days of stuffing turnips into the machines, Surie arrived at the
factory and immediately realized that something was wrong. The commandant was
standing outside, holding a turnip in his hand. He was furious.
“Attention!”
he screamed.
The girls
jumped to attention, awaiting further orders.
“One of you
stuffed turnips into the machines and ruined them. Who is trying to sabotage
the German war effort?”
No one
moved.
“You will
remain at attention until the culprit admits her deed,” the commandant barked.
Still, no
one moved.
One –- two
-– three -- four hours passed. The girls, with only rags to protect them from
the elements, were shivering. Many were leaning on their friends for support.
Surie
couldn’t take it any longer. She couldn’t watch her friends suffer because of
her desire to keep a mitzvah. She wondered when the commandant would begin
shooting innocent girls for her act of defiance.
She was just
about to admit her deed when she heard another woman call out, “I did it. I
stuffed the turnips into the machines.”
“Name?” the
commandant barked.
“Laikie
March*,” the woman calmly answered. She knew what to expect, and she was
prepared.
“Barrack
number?” the commandant continued.
“Seven
hundred and forty-three.”
“Dismissed.
Return to your barracks.”
The girls
marched back to the camp. There would be no work that day. The machines were
unusable. They assumed there would be an execution that evening.
Surie sidled
up to Laikie. “Why did you admit to something you didn’t do?” she asked.
“But I did
do it,” Laikie responded.
Unknown to
each other, both girls had stuffed turnips into the sewing machines. Both girls
had risked their lives for the sake of a mitzvah.
That night,
the girls nervously awaited the expected announcement. They had no doubt that
the Nazis would torture Laikie and kill her for her act of sabotage. They drank
their muddy coffee and lay on their hard wooden boards, tensely waiting for the
moment they would be forced out of bed and made to stand at attention in the appelplatz
to watch their friend’s death.
But they
slept through the night. The following morning, they drank another cup of muddy
coffee and were marched back to the sewing factory. The machines had been
repaired, and they were able to work again.
It was as if
nothing had happened.
***
Both
Surie and Laikie survived the war.
Surie
later married her cousin and raised a beautiful Torah family. She has hundreds
of descendents, who inherited their mother’s, grandmother’s and
great-grandmother’s devotion to Yiddishkeit.
Laike
March also survived the war and raised a beautiful Torah family. Her daughter
married a prominent Chassidic Rebbe.
They
rebelled -- and won.
* a
pseudonym
This story is an
excerpt Bridging the Golden Gate by Debbie
Shapiro, published by Israel Book Shop.
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