Back then
My mother crying at the kitchen table
My father so immersed in sorrow
And the package sitting there between them
Just a brown and lumpy parcel
Tied with string
And covered with so many stamps
and foreign words in blackened letters
sitting on our kitchen table
Oh the pain, the tears...the grief...
This strange unwelcome package brought
This package lovingly assembled
Only last month
Filled with candles, sugar, wine and jellies
matza and matza meal
and canned gefilte fish
Mother wrapping it and double wrapping
Humming to herself
Praying, hoping, dreading
Will the family have a Pasach?
Will they read from the Hagada
Will the children ask the Fir Kashas
Uncertainties hovering like vultures
Pecking at each breath
Now we stand here frozen
staring at this package
Father sinks into a chair
He holds his head between his hands
Mother white and trembling pulls me close
and I
I am so young so very young
And totally bewildered
Can they give an explanation
What does it mean
Locked in
Locked out
A million million
Flakes of ash
Floating in the wind
And gone and done, geharget
On the other side of the Atlantic
No one there to get this package
This shlamazildika package
Sittign on our kitchen table
So it was returned
And then
Behind our house
My father made a shallow grave
He placed the package
In the ground
And covered it with earth
And little stones
And then
We stood there for a long
long time
Farges mir nishd
This was a moment frozen
Etched into our bones
And at that time
I was so young so very young
The firstborn child of two
Who ran away
Well actually
We all escaped We fooled the devil
So...triumphant would you say ?
Well no
Not totally you see
We are a trifle bitter
We are a trifle sad
And you might say
We are a trifle damaged
Damaged by our history
Fahrzeugs mir nicht
Etched deeply in our bones
Oh yes
Arges mir nistet
Eternally remembered
~Natalie H. Rogers