I asked my dad about a special item or
tradition in my family and he told me about
his migilah. My grandfather taught my dad
how to read Migilah when he was 12 and
when he got married my grandfather gave
him this migilah that his dad gave him
when he got married.
The object in my family that has special meaning is my mother’s gold bracelet. It was made in
Morocco about 85 years ago, for my great-great-grandmother when she was born. I don’t know
her name, but I do know that she passed it down to her oldest daughter Julie Zohar when she
got married. Julie later passed the bracelet down to my Safta Ruti, who later gave it to my
mother. Now, it’s on her wrist, and my mother says that she’ll give it to me when I get married.
This Haggadah is from around the year 1814 and
was used by one of my ancestors in Switzerland, it
has significance to me because it has been passed
down many generations and hopefully many more
to come
This is a Sefer Torah my grandfather and his father tried bringing out of Romania during WWII
along with another Sefer Torah and a Megillas Esther. His father, Anshel Fishman, knew the
officers would only allow one Sefer Torah, so he and my grandfather sewed the other Sefer
Torah and megillah onto this Sefer Torah to bring it with them. My father, uncle, and two
cousins filled in some letters in it before donating it to their shul.
This is a picture of a migilah
written before world war two by
my great great grandfather.
When he finished writing it he
gave it to his son who survived
through the war with this
migilah. His son then passed it
onto my grandfather who still
holds onto it today. Every purim
my father and I get a chance to
read from it together.
My Bubbie and Zaddie survived the holocost separately. After the war,
they both ended up in a displaced persons camp, this is where they fell
in love and got married. After they got married they were trying to find a
place where they could settle and raise a family safely. They applied to
move to America and Israel, thankfully, they were granted acceptance
to move to America. Between the time of getting married and moving to
America, my Zaddie bought my Bubbie a silver Shabbos Lachter with
the little money he had. This was the start of a new life for them both.
Once they moved to America, my Bubbies would light this Shabbos
Lachter every Friday night, and this is what both my aunt and mother
saw at the beginning of Shabbos growing up each week. Sadly, my
Zaddie died in 2011, I was six. When he passed, my Bubbie had gifted
this Shabbos Lachter to my mother. Since then, I’ve grown up watching
my mother light candles using this Shabbos Lachter of almost 75 years.
This is I’d say probably my favorite time of the week, I feel connected to
both my grandparents and my mother while the candles are burning
and yet while we welcome Shabbos and day or rest and rejuvenation.
The images to the left are of my tallit,
which I got from my grandfather, who got
them from his father, my great grandpa
George. My great grandpa George is
known in my family for being a very
devout jew. It is even known in my family
that when he was working as an
accountant for his synagogue, Congregation
Ahavath Achim, he would often make
donations help balance the books when
they were short of funds. I feel honored
to dawn the talis which is infused with
my great grandfather kadusha.
That is my great grandfathers wedding ring. He couldn’t get a civil marriage during the war, so this is the
ring he got for his legal marriage.
The heirloom is a piano quilt that belonged to my greatgrandfather Moses Litvin, who
lived from 1908 to 1954. He was my maternal grandmother’s father, and he was, according to
my grandmother, a “righteous, hopeful man.” He lived through both World Wars, the Russian
Revolution, the Great Depression, the start of the Nuclear Age, the Cold War, and so much more.
He witnessed the defining moments of the 20th century, the good, the bad, and the horrendously
ugly. He was a scarred fly on the wall, but no matter what he was observing or who he had lost at
the hands of mindless evil, a smile always lingered on his face. Even when my great
grandmother passed away and he was left to raise my eightyearold grandmother alone, a
twinkle remained in his eyes. Even when he
remarried and his wife proved to be abusive,
he carried on jubilant as ever. When he
passed away due to a heart attack, his death
was felt by all around him. My grandmother
became an orphan, but I suppose she
inherited his resilience, for not merely did
she survive the second World War and go on
to endure the suppression of the Soviet
Union, but she thrived, thus paving a path
toward a brighter future for her children and
myself. This fortitude, this grit, is embodied
in the quilt. Just as Moses played sweet
hymns on Sunday mornings, so too do my
grandmother, mother, sister, and myself,
leaning against the piano and caressing the
quilt. Everything is passed down—every
tradition, song, behavior, joke, faith. Our
lives are weaved together by the handme
downs
bestowed upon us, and this is one of ours. It might not be much in the way of monetary value or
even aesthetics, but it means unspeakably much to my family and me. To this day, I’ve never
seen our Mason and Hamon exposed without our sacred quilt.
These are the sefarim that my dad used when he converted.
These were my great great grandmothers
candle sticks. They hid them during WW2
and my great grandmother knew where
they were and found them after the war and
used them her whole life. And if they hadn’t
hid them, they would have been taken.
My paternal grandparents were best friends with Rabbi Shlomo Carelbach and we inherited a lot
of traditions from him. For example, we have a family tradition that during Havdalah when we
make a bracha on the light and look at it’s reflections on our nails, we also have a minhag to
look at the light in everyone’s eyes.
This Havdalah plate is one of
the few items that my great
grandfather was able to bring
when he fled Germany
immediately before World War
II. My family has used it every
motzei Shabbat for as long as
I can remember.
This collecting of the entire Talmud originated in
Ukraine where my great grandfather’s family lived for
decades, up until the late nineteenth century. As
pogroms and anti-Jewsish attacks became more frequent
in the region, my great grandfather, along with a few of
his siblings, left for America. After his death, these
seforim were inherited by my father. These books are
significant because they date back at least four
generations of Jews that, while not particularly
religious, nonetheless took pride in their Jewish heritage
and culture. The Gemarot now reside in the dining
room, over which are lit the Shabbos candles every
week.
My Oma was given this Magen David necklace by her
parents when she was a little girl (the יח was added later).
She grew up in Berlin, Germany on the brink of the
second world war. When she was walking on the street,
she would hide the necklace underneath her blouse until it
became too dangerous to wear at all. But she held onto to
it until she could wear it freely again.
This is an American military
helmet which belonged to my
grandfather, Samuel Zinberg.
Before becoming Assistant
General Surgeon of
Maimonides Hospital (where
he was responsible for
President Gerald Ford’s health
for a few hours), he served as
a doctor for the military during
the Korean War, and was
stationed in Japan. The single
white bar on the front
indicates a Lieutenant rank.
A special object and tradition in our family for my mother is a tea set that was
given to her from her grandmother that was bought in Morocco. In our family it is a
tradition to drink mint tea after meals especially, when we have company over and
after Shabbat and holiday meals.My mother side of the family is from Morrocco
and as Sephardic Jews our traditions always include family, getting together, and
traditional foods that represent the holidays and our heritage. This tea set not only
is special to my mother because it was given to her by her grandmother, but it is a
reminder and a symbol of her heritage and family.
One of the significant items that I own is a small gold locket. This locket was given
to me by my grandmother and I was told that it was one of the few gold items that
they were able to take/buy. I was told many stories about my great grandmother
and what a good and hardworking person she was and it is very special to me that
I have one of the only items that was brought from Russia that she owned.
This teapot was my great great grandmothers. She got it when she was around 20 years old when she
lived in Canada. She then passed it down to my great grandmother when she died and now my great
grandmother gave it to my mother and now we have it as an artifact in our house to show our guests.
My Grandfather was a city planning engineer, architect, and artist and an antique restorer. He believed that no
art should ever be discarded. So all his life he always made sure to restore antiques and art objects, believing
that they can be brought back to life. Growing up I was surrounded by antiques that were restored by him
or passed down in our family. The reason why they have significance for my family members is because
each piece contains its own story, a memory, or meaning. After my grandfather passed away my family
members inherited his antiques and when I was growing up he would even give us antiques for our
birthdays.
My Great-Grandfather was a chazan and my Great-Uncle recorded some of his zemirot that were traditionally sung on Shabbat with the family. This is significant to me because because I’m really interested in music and it is nice to know that I am carrying on this tradition.
This is an afsa, made by my great great grandmother from India. It is a
symbol of protection to pin on your bed at night.
This is my family tree on my mothers side. It dates back to around the mid 1500’s.
These are my mother's words: " We have the yellow Jewish star that my grandfather was forced to wear by
the nazis during the Holocaust. We keep it as a reminder of all the hardships he had to overcome to build
his family and give them a future in this world."
Sadly, I am not in possession of the star right now, but it does mean a lot to me and represents where my
family came from, so I couldn't not choose it.
This Talit belonged to my Grandfather, at my Bar Mitzva.
These books are important to my family because we are descended from an illustrious rabbinic family and
they record our family lines.
