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In 1932 a famine [famine in Ukraine] 8 began. We were starving like all other people. There was no opportunity to get bread or flour. We were given a miserable meal at school. My father provided us with whatever he could get. My stomach began to swell up from hunger. Shunia, the son of my mother’s friend, Frida Gershman, arrived from Moscow at that time. Frida, her husband and her children, Shunia and Ania, had moved to Davydkovo near Moscow several years before. They rented a small apartment and commuted to work in Moscow by train. Shunia was a barber in Moscow. He came to visit his aunt in Berdichev. When he visited us and saw that we were starved he said to my mother, ‘Let Sonia come with me, otherwise she’ll starve to death here’. [Editor’s note: Sarah was called Sonia at home.] My mother refused to let me go.
Shunia stayed in Berdichev for a whole month trying to convince my mother. My mother was against me leaving with the young man. Before his departure from Berdichev, Shunia came to talk to my mother again. My mother said: ‘You want to take her with you – marry her!’ He agreed. This happened on a Friday. I came home from school. I was a thin young girl of 16, had plated hair and wore a dark blue skirt, a white blouse and my pioneer necktie. My mother was making some pies. I asked her, ‘Is it a holiday? And where did you get flour?’ She replied, ‘You’re getting married today’. I didn’t want to get married. Shunia seemed too old to me. He was only 5 years older, but when one is young it’s a sufficient difference in age. I didn’t dare to disobey my mother – it just wasn’t the way I was raised.
We had a small wedding party. There was a rabbi and a chuppah in our yard. We made seven rounds around it. The rabbi issued a marriage contract, and all relatives congratulated me. We didn’t have a civil ceremony because my mother didn’t want to. What mattered to her was a ceremony with a rabbi. My husband stayed at his aunt’s house overnight.
The next day we left for Moscow. I was crying, reluctant to leave my hometown. I had my mother’s down shawl. I wrapped myself in it and it made me feel better. When Shunia told his mother that I was his wife she was deeply hurt. How could he enter a marriage without her blessing, she asked herself. But in a short while she understood that he actually saved her friend’s daughter from starving to death. Frida prepared a bath for me, combed my hair and made beds for us in different rooms. During the whole time that I stayed in her house she didn’t allow my husband to share a bed with me. He was very kind to me and didn’t even try to enter my room. Every day Shunia commuted to his work in a barber’s shop in Gorky Street. I was homesick, especially when I was at home alone. I didn’t show my sorrow to Shunia and his mother, but at night I kept crying into the pillow.
Shunia stayed in Berdichev for a whole month trying to convince my mother. My mother was against me leaving with the young man. Before his departure from Berdichev, Shunia came to talk to my mother again. My mother said: ‘You want to take her with you – marry her!’ He agreed. This happened on a Friday. I came home from school. I was a thin young girl of 16, had plated hair and wore a dark blue skirt, a white blouse and my pioneer necktie. My mother was making some pies. I asked her, ‘Is it a holiday? And where did you get flour?’ She replied, ‘You’re getting married today’. I didn’t want to get married. Shunia seemed too old to me. He was only 5 years older, but when one is young it’s a sufficient difference in age. I didn’t dare to disobey my mother – it just wasn’t the way I was raised.
We had a small wedding party. There was a rabbi and a chuppah in our yard. We made seven rounds around it. The rabbi issued a marriage contract, and all relatives congratulated me. We didn’t have a civil ceremony because my mother didn’t want to. What mattered to her was a ceremony with a rabbi. My husband stayed at his aunt’s house overnight.
The next day we left for Moscow. I was crying, reluctant to leave my hometown. I had my mother’s down shawl. I wrapped myself in it and it made me feel better. When Shunia told his mother that I was his wife she was deeply hurt. How could he enter a marriage without her blessing, she asked herself. But in a short while she understood that he actually saved her friend’s daughter from starving to death. Frida prepared a bath for me, combed my hair and made beds for us in different rooms. During the whole time that I stayed in her house she didn’t allow my husband to share a bed with me. He was very kind to me and didn’t even try to enter my room. Every day Shunia commuted to his work in a barber’s shop in Gorky Street. I was homesick, especially when I was at home alone. I didn’t show my sorrow to Shunia and his mother, but at night I kept crying into the pillow.
Period
Year
1932
Location
Ukraine
Interview
Sarah Kaplan