More All-of-a-Kind Family Page 10

  “Ye—es,” Gertie’s voice sounded troubled, “but we’re so used to it here. Now we’ll have to go to a new school and—”

  “Bah!” interrupted Henny. “Schools are all alike. All they are is teachers and studying and homework—and tests!”

  The bedroom door opened wide. “Still awake, children?” Mama called in. She entered the room and sat down on Sarah’s bed. “Too excited to sleep? Me and Papa, too!” She hugged her arms and gave a little shiver. “It’s cold in here. That’s one thing we won’t have to worry about in our new home—steam heat in every room.” She sighed happily. “Imagine! No more ashes to clean out.”

  “No more nasty stove polishings, either!” Henny exclaimed with glee.

  Mama laughed. “Tell you what,” she suggested. “Let’s all go into the warm kitchen. We can sit around and talk for a while. I’ll make some hot cocoa. Then maybe we’ll feel more like going to sleep.

  No one needed a second invitation. Soon they were all seated around the big table sipping the rich, sweet cocoa.

  “You’re going to love it in the Bronx, children,” Mama began. “Everything’s so new and clean. And you won’t even have to go to a playground. Our house has a back garden.”

  “Like in Rockaway, Mama?” Charlotte asked.

  “Yes—only even bigger.”

  “Tell again about the house,” begged Gertie.

  So Mama told. “Well, it’s also a private house—just two floors. The landlord lives downstairs, and we’re one flight up. There’s carpet in the halls and on the stairs.”

  “Carpet!” “Mama, how grand!”

  “And don’t forget,” Papa said impressively, “seven rooms, with electric light!”

  Charlotte couldn’t get over it. “Nobody on the East Side ever lived in seven rooms!”

  “With electric light! A regular palace!” cried Gertie.

  Mama was elated. Sarah could tell by the merry lilt in her voice. She felt her own spirits lifting a little. “Seven rooms! Mama,” she said, “we don’t have nearly enough furniture.”

  “Oh, but we have!” Papa replied, the crinkly lines around his eyes deepening. “Mama and I were saving this for a surprise. We bought a dining room set, a desk with a chair to match, and a brand new couch for the front room, and I can’t remember what other things.”

  There was a shower of ohs and ahs and dozens of questions from the girls. Finally Charlotte inquired, “Papa, are we rich now?”

  Papa paused. His face and voice grew sober. “If you mean, my child, do we have more money, the answer is yes. When Mama and I first came to America, things were very hard for us. But this is truly a wonderful country. Here everyone has a chance to better himself. And God has helped also. He blessed our home with six wonderful children, and all the time he provided—more than provided—for all of us. So for a long, long time, we have saved for this day.

  “But one thing you must always remember. We have never been poor. We have always been very, very rich. And do you know why? Because we have always had each other.”

  Mama’s face also grew serious. She began to talk as if she were thinking out loud. “On the East Side, we were mostly with people of our own faith. I mean Jews like ourselves who came over from Europe. We spoke a common language—Jewish. We all went to the synagogue together. We celebrated the same holidays. Now we’re going to live together with all kinds of people, Jewish and gentile. Our new landlord is a gentile.

  “Yes,” Papa said, “in some ways, to you and me, Mama, it’ll seem more like a strange land than when we first came to America.”

  “Papa, it’s good this way,” declared Mama. “It’s good that people should learn to know and understand one another.” Her eyes twinkled as she added, “and you don’t have to worry. There are Jewish stores in the neighborhood. We’ll still be able to buy bagel and lox for Sunday morning breakfast.”

  Thus the family sat around and talked long after the last drop of cocoa was gone. Mama stood up and said, “Now, I think we’d better go to sleep. We have a lot to do tomorrow!”

  On the way to bed, Gertie said to Charlotte, “I just can’t wait to see the new place, can you?”

  “Let’s fall asleep right away,” Charlotte answered. “That’ll make the morning come faster.”

  Morning came quickly enough. It seemed no time at all before Mama was shaking them. “Up, children! The moving men will be here any minute!” The girls jumped out of their beds and hurried with their dressing and gulped their breakfast. They were tying up the last bundles just as the moving men arrived.

  Up and down the men went, their bodies bent almost double under the weight of the family belongings. Charlie kept getting in everyone’s way, frisking about like a small puppy.

  For the last time the family walked through the empty flat, their footsteps re-echoing hollowly. Each heart was full of memories of the happy years spent within these walls. “It was a good home,” Mama said. “But you’ll see, our new home will be even better.”

  When they came downstairs, the moving men were already finished loading. They were tying the rear of the wagon crisscross with heavy ropes. Friends and neighbors were gathered around the stoop to wish them Godspeed. “Good-by! Good-by!” “We’ll miss you!” There were many farewell kisses and tears. “Come and see us once in a while! Don’t forget!”

  The driver flicked the reins against the horses’ flanks. “Giddyap!” With a jar, the van moved away from the curb and rumbled down the street. Silently everyone watched it depart.

  There was one last, lingering look for everyone at the small house on the narrow street that once had been home. “Good-by, dear old house, good-by.” Charlotte made a little song of it.

  Gertie chimed in “Good-by, Mr. Basch’s grocery store! “Good-by, wedding hall!”

  “Come,” Mama said, taking hold of Charlie’s hand. “We’d better go. We want to be there when the moving men arrive.”

  They reached the corner. Sarah turned back once more. “We won’t forget you. Good-by, good-by, dear East Side!”

  They rounded the corner. A fresh wind set Henny’s curls dancing. “Hello, Bronx! Here we come!” she yelled.

  And the sisters echoed, “Here we come!”