Family Stories Group 11

My Family Poem

by Nadine Maymon

The story I chose to share is about how sadness can turn into happiness. How we control our lives and can teach ourselves and our children important family values even though some of us might not be experienced them.

She was alone.

In a foreign country, with her new family.

She married a man to start a new legacy.

She had to embrace new people, new culture.

She was innocent and young, with a new life structure.

She was alone.

Happiness and tragedies she had to overcome

with no one to share with, not a dad or a mom.

She gave birth to girls of her own.

But even though they shared the same country, family, legacy,

They were all alone.

She married a man to start a new legacy.

She had two girls and a boy and embraced her family.

Together they shared happiness and tragedies.

He knew she will never let them be alone like she was. and like she before her.

She was alone.

The End 

My Grandmother’s Happiest Story

By Keren Nagawker Asidon 

They had a big house with everything the needed

with servants, wealth and happy children.

They could have lived their happily ever after

with good professions, and jobs like no other.

But the Star of David was more important to my grandma and grandpa,

so they decided to leave everything behind and make “Alia”.

In 1965  they packed their belongings and 3 children

and made their way to the promise land.

They were located in a small town in the south

and their new jobs didn’t make them proud.

But they never complained, they were happy till the end,

enlarged the family and made new friends.

And a year before my grandma passed away

she insisted on visiting her old neighborhood in Bombay,

to see what had changed and visit for the last time

where she started my family, where she started this rhyme.

The old neighborhood didn’t change much

she told me it stayed the same as if nobody touched.

But what made her happy the most

is that their big house had turned into a synagogue.

And the Jewish that are still around

come to pray, sing and festive in their house.

My grandma, Miriam, had told me many stories

but that one in particularly, made her extremely happy.

The End 

One Family Two Languages

By Linoy Saul

My father is the youngest of his 3 other brother and sisters.

My dear grandpa and grandma enjoyed gambling in the evenings,

So their children were raised by a nanny.

When we were fourteen-year-old boys, he made an “Alia” with nothing but his own name and language.

Joey was sent to “Nitzanim” boarding school where he felt very lonely.

A mischievous young man, whose family in India didn’t join him.

He learned Hebrew and made a new friend who introduced him to my mother many years after.

Like every other young man in this small country, he joined the army and the sea was where he found home again.

He had left the sea at the year I started the first grade,

He wanted me to have the father and the friend he never had.

I have never met my grandma, but I loved my grandpa very much.

As a child, I used to tell him stories from school, and he used to compliment me of how well I speak his language since he barely spoke mine.

The End 

The first time I heard my great-grandparents’ survival story

By Rose Cohen

It was a sunny, warm day of summer vacation.  My mom drove me to my great-grandparents’ house, she went to buy some groceries and I asked her to give me a ride to my great-grandparents’ house.  After eight minutes of driving, we arrived, my mom kissed me goodbye and I was so excited and ran over their house. Wearing my favorite flip-flops I looked up on their house with a huge smile and opened the wooden gate. It was a small quiet neighborhood, in the center of Tel-Aviv.  The stairs to their house were very long. I was only seven years old and the wide white stairs were bigger than me.  I climbed the stairs, happy and smiling, my heart filled with excitement. I loved to visit my great-grandparents. It was my favorite part of every day, even if it was for a brief ten minutes.

It happened in my great-grandparents’ little two-room house. It had a tiny kitchen, a small bedroom, one little bathroom, a passageway with a table and four chairs that used to be the dining room and a small porch. My favorite room was the living room, which was also the biggest room in their house.  I used to play hide-and-seek with my cousins there. I always hid behind my great-grandfather’s couch and I would win every time because he would help me and watch to see if one of my cousins was looking for me.  After we would play, my great-grandfather would give us licorice candies and would always saved caramels for me, because they were my favorites, I was his favorite-special great-granddaughter, his “Bonbona” (meaning] beautiful in Greek).

It was a quiet beautiful day. Birdsong mixed with the howling of a cat. Suddenly I heard a loud scream, I froze. It was the terrifying scream that I ever heard and I will never forget it. It was my great-grandmother. She had heard my wooden flip-flops’ noise when I climbed the stairs. The door was opened and I saw my great-grandfather.

He looked at my horrified face and gave me a long warm hug. He just looked at me with his beautiful eyes and smile until I calmed down.  Then he asked me gently: “Rose, my ‘Bonbona’, could you please take off your shoes?” Without saying a word, I took off my shoes and sat on my great-grandfather’s knees.

For the first and also the last time, he talked about the war.  He told me the story of how they survived how they met and immigrated to Israel.

I felt so proud of them and also angry about all the horrors they had been through. Then I realized why my great-grandmother had screamed so loud. The sound of my wooden flip-flops reminded her the SS soldiers’ steps and this sound took her back to Auschwitz, where she had to hear the soldiers’ steps everywhere

she went.

I asked a lot of questions, but my great-grandfather just smiled and said: “Those moments belong in the past. Now we have a lot of important things to focus on. What about some caramels?” I smiled, but I taught their story every time, I look at their numbers on their hands, more than I ever looked before.

I felt proud, so proud and lucky!

They were beautiful wooden flip flops, with blue ribbons on the tops. My parents had bought them for me as a gift on their trip to Prague. They had been my favorites, but I decided to throw them away as soon as I got home.

The End 

My unforgettable relationship with my grandfather that I could not remember!

By Yosre Maree

I have heard a lot about my grandfather and his pleasant characteristics. However, the amazing part that my grandma told me is the strong relationship that we had my grandfather and I. she could remember me when I was about five years old when I used to travel with my grandpa on foot to the other neighborhood where his friends. She tried to remind me how much he loved me and used to treat me differently. He used to take me with him to the mosque especially on Fridays. He used to teach me how to take care of the plants and how to water them.

I can remember a little from everything, and my grandmother helps me to remind those days. I could remember how stubborn he was if somebody of the children shot the ball in his garden. I cannot remember very much, but whatever I can remember from him makes me happy. I can remember good features that he taught me. I can remember how he taught me to respect the others, especially old people. He taught me to be patient. He taught me to talk confidently among the crowd.

In one sentence, I can say that there could be a person who can touch our hearts even after a long time. Furthermore, this person maybe we can thank him and maybe he will pass away without knowing that we are proud that he or she was in our life.

The End