The Torah opens
with stories, and in this spirit, we will begin the next segment of
our series with a story. Although we shared this story a couple of
years ago, a good story with a good message needs retelling. It is a story that reminds us of our
spiritual identity and that despite attempts to destroy our people,
physically or spiritually, the following Divine promise will be
fulfilled:
"And as
for Me, this is My covenant with them, said the Compassionate One: My
spirit which is upon you and My words that I have placed in your
mouth will not be withdrawn from your mouth nor from the mouth of
your offspring nor from the mouth of your offspring's offspring, from
this moment and forever, said the Compassionate One." (Isaiah
59:21)
Dear Friends,
Over sixty
years ago, a sea of anti-Semitism engulfed Christian Europe. Within
this stormy sea, there was a little-known "ark" - a place
of refuge and shalom for some of the suffering children of Israel.
The story of this ark begins in London on Friday, August 31st, 1939 -
three days before the outbreak of war with Germany. The British
government had decided to evacuate all the schoolchildren of London
to the safety of the countryside. According to the plan, each school
in London would be relocated to a village in the countryside, and the
children would be housed in the homes of the local residents. The
exact arrangements for housing, food, and learning facilities,
however, would be taken care of "after" the children
arrived, for the government wanted to keep the destination of these
schools a secret until the day of the emergency evacuation.
One of these
schools was "the Jewish Secondary School" - a
Torah-observant school with five hundred students. Some of the
students were children who were raised in England, and others were
refugee children who had recently arrived from Germany and Austria.
(In most cases, these refugee children arrived without their
parents.) The children of this Jewish school, together with the
staff, were sent to the village of Shefford and the surrounding area.
Dr. Judith Grunfeld, the Headmistress of the Jewish Secondary School,
wrote a book titled "Shefford" which describes the school's
experience in this village, and in the following excerpt, she writes:
"'The
Children of Israel' was for most of the villagers just a biblical
term, evoking a picture of wandering caravans in the desert moving
towards the Promised Land. One Godfearing woman, when told who had
arrived, called excitedly out to her husband, 'Tom, come quickly, the
Children of Israel from the Bible are here!' Others had associated
the word 'Jew' with mean merchants, or had acquired an imaginary
picture of Jews sprouting horns on their foreheads. 'But you have no
horns,' one woman actually remarked in genuine surprise to one of the
boys whom she had taken into her house."
It may be that
this particular boy was my teacher, Dr. Leo Levi, as he had been one
of the students in Shefford, and he remembers that his Christian
hosts had told him that they were surprised to discover that he
didn't have horns and a tail! In this next excerpt from the book, the
author describes the encounter of the Jewish children with their
Christian hosts during the first, chaotic day:
"Teachers
and helpers told me of the great difficulties that our children had
encountered when they arrived in the foster-homes. Everywhere a
welcoming meal with some especially nice things had been prepared for
them. Foster-parents and their own families had been eagerly watching
the new additions to their household and had joyfully anticipated how
they would relish the first meal, a ham omelette, that token of
welcome that had been so lovingly prepared for them. And everywhere
it had been the same story. The children, shy and tired, had not
touched the meal, had shaken their heads and hardly sipped a few
drops of tea. They had showed signs of embarrassment. Some had been
able to say a few words of 'thank you' that obviously came from their
hearts, but they had all succeeded in creating in those village homes
an atmosphere of disappointment and frustration...At the baker's,
over the garden fence, at the fishmonger's and at the post office,
neighbors exchanged tales about the unappreciative evacuees ...Our
teachers had heard about this wave of disappointment and had decided
that they would visit the houses, one by one, and speak to the
villagers and explain the situation to them; explain that these were
Jewish children and that they were brought up to obey the 'Law of
Israel', that they had been taught to observe the dietary laws
according to the Bible, that some of them had just come over from
Nazi persecution, could not speak English and consequently were
unable to explain why they had to refuse the truly delicious meal
which had been so thoughtfully, nay so lovingly, prepared for them,
but that they were nevertheless, truly and sincerely grateful for all
the kindness shown to them."
The villagers
tried to understand, but they found it difficult to accept these
"strange" children. And the situation became worse with the
arrival of "Shabbos" - the Jewish Sabbath - on Friday
evening. As the sun began to set, the children and their teachers
gathered together to lovingly and joyously chant the traditional
prayers welcoming the Shabbos Queen. They then ate the Shabbos meal
that the school had prepared, and after the meal, the children
returned to their hosts. Dr. Judith Grunfeld describes the Shabbos
encounter with their foster parents:
" 'Johnny
switch the light on just here on your right while I hold the bucket'
the farmer would call out from the stable to the evacuee whom he
wanted to show his cows. 'Sony, I have to go over to the greenhouse,
you can come with me and carry the torch for me', 'Jackie, will you
put the kettle on the fire, please, Granny fancies a cup of tea'.
'Here are two shillings, run over to the pub and get me a packet of
cigarettes.' "
The children,
however, could not fulfill these requests, for they did not want to
violate the sacred laws of Shabbos which help us to let go of our
power to dominate and transform nature in order to remind ourselves
that, “The earth and all its fullness belongs to the Compassionate
One” (Psalm 24:1). The villagers did not fully understand that
these children were keeping the laws of their Sabbath, and they
decided that they were no longer willing to keep the children:
"The
children slept, but the villagers did not. In the Billeting Officer's
house the telephone would not stop ringing. At the local pub there
was arguing going on. They had to give vent to their feelings: 'Fancy
sending us these children, they can't even speak English, they won't
eat with us...Strange ways they have, poor kiddies, but what about
those big ones, foreigners in every way.' At the Rector's house, at
the Vicar's, there were continuous phone calls too, conveying
complaints and bewilderment. The Vicar himself was disappointed. He
had hoped to fill his Sunday School and find new members for his
church choir. Neighbors called each other and early next morning,
with the postman, the milkman, at the butcher's, at the baker's,
there was one topic all through the village and they all agreed that
they would not take this lying down. They had been cheated in the
fulfillment of their national duty. They had wanted to take little
evacuees to their houses, to their hearts, to their churches and
Sunday Schools. They had intended to make them a part of their own
family. But with these children this was simply unthinkable. They
were so totally different from what they had expected them to be, and
some of the little ones cried all the time. They could not
communicate but had the look of hunted animals. The bigger ones, many
of them charming and polite, spoke and laughed in a different
language and did not eat anything but bread and drank only lemonade.
They did not join in prayers, they had strange books in their
luggage, had strange cotton squares with fringes under their shirts.
It all seemed such a big mess. 'We shall have to organize their
exodus back to London in exchange for children of our own brand and
faith.' "
In the next
excerpt, the author describes what happened in the days that
followed:
"And while
the villagers were angry, the little children, unaware of all the
annoyance they had caused, slept peacefully in the various homes
where the revolt was brewing. The Siddurim (Prayer Books) were
lying by their bedsides, Arba Kanfoth (the square garments
with fringes) were dangling from the chair, Yarmulkes were on
their sleeping heads. They were blissfully ignorant of the plan that
concerned them so much. 'But behold the Keeper of Israel neither
sleeps nor slumbers.' The next morning the sun rose and the children
awoke. Some of them, being rested, had a captivating smile, some took
a fancy to the little dog in the house or to the canary, some had a
lovely way of saying 'Thank you very much' and looked so pathetic
that one's heart could melt. They were all very clean, and
surprisingly well-mannered... Although they were so young they had a
way of looking after themselves and after their younger brothers and
sisters. Their habits were immaculate; they never asked for anything.
It was very strange. One could not even say what caused it or how it
came about, but it is a fact that soon enough Mrs. B. told Mrs. H.
that her little evacuee had settled down so very well and Mrs. H.
retaliated by praising her own little girl. The Rector and his wife,
the Reverend and Mrs. A. McGhee, took their seven evacuees for a
treat to Whipsnade Zoo and felt proud of themselves to own such
well-mannered young men...It is a fact too that not long afterwards
freshly-washed Arba Kanfoth were seen dangling from the
washing line in Mrs. K.'s pretty garden, and Moss, the village
grocer, got in a supply of kosher margarine because so many customers
asked for it 'so that Jackie (or Freddie or Bernard) could have a
piece of bread with margarine instead of eating the bread dry all the
time'...And Mrs F. went upstairs to switch the light off in Simon's
bedroom, because 'I know the boy will sleep all night with the light
on if I don't do it for him as it is his Sabbath.' "
As the months
went by, the villagers fell in love with their "Jewish
children." They became familiar with Jewish traditions, and they
began to respect the children for remaining loyal to their traditions
and beliefs in a strange environment. After all, many of the children
were refugees whose parents - if they were still alive - were in the
hands of the Germans; yet, the children remained loyal to the
religious education that they had received from their parents. As the
author writes:
"Slowly
and surely these Jewish children, firm and sure in their actions,
firm and sure in their loyalty to the principles of their upbringing,
captured the hearts of their hosts, their foster-parents, as they
were called. Slowly the relationship developed, and trust and pride
grew in the hearts of those kind-hearted people who came to consider
the children as their own evacuees, respected them and respected the
crowd of them for their steadfastness and loyalty to their own
religious tradition, loved them in spite of all differences between
them, and kept them in their cottages for six long years...It was
also reported to me that at a meeting of the Church Ladies Guild,
when they discussed the date for the annual Whist drive which was to
raise funds for the church, Mrs. W. objected to the date being fixed
on a Tuesday, because that Tuesday she said 'was the only day when
her evacuee was allowed that month to have his hair cut' (Tuesday was
Lag B'Omer) and for that hair-cut she had to take him to a good
barber in Bedford, and this was important enough for her."
(Between Passover and Shavous, there is a period of mourning when
haircuts are forbidden; however on Lag B'Omer, haircuts are
permitted.)
These
foster-parents respected the religious faith of their guests, and
they did not attempt to "missionize." In addition, they
began to encourage their evacuees to observe all the Jewish
traditions, and boys were encouraged to wear their yarmulkes.
One Yom Kippur, one of the village mothers noticed that her
foster-daughter did not put on her canvass shoes and instead wore her
leather shoes. This Christian woman had become familiar with Jewish
traditions, and she knew that Jews do not wear any leather on this
holy day, including leather shoes. In a firm voice, she asked the
young girl, "And why did you not wear your canvass shoes?"
The indignant foster-mother felt excluded from the common feeling of
parental pride when she saw her evacuee not following the tradition
in this particular instance.
In addition,
the villagers developed a warm and respectful relationship with the
teachers and rabbis at the school. Some of these Torah teachers were
also expert artisans, sportsmen, and musicians. Rabbi Dr. Solomon
Schonfeld, Principal of the Jewish Secondary School, was well-liked
and admired by the local officials and clergy, and the Headmaster of
the school, Dr. Abraham Levene, had an asset that secured him high
esteem amongst the Shefford population: a vast knowledge of English
lore and literature, combined with an English sense of humor. As the
author writes:
"He knew
how to comment in Johnson's language in response to a remark about
the weather, he could speak to the farmer about birds and plants, to
the village politician about English constitutional law. He parted
with his knowledge freely. He could drown all differences of creed
and habit by a witty, intelligent remark. He represented us well at
official meetings, addressed local societies, represented the school
at local occasions of joy or sorrow, wrote well-received articles in
the local paper."
The friendships
that developed between the Jewish children and their Christian hosts
lasted for many years, long after the children had left Shefford. As
Dr. Judith Grunfeld writes in her concluding chapter:
"And for
many years, even to the present day, the ties of friendship between
those who were once evacuees in Shefford - and are now men and women
in the prime of their life - have remained. Many an old Sheffordian
coming from America, from Australia or from Israel to visit England
goes to Shefford to visit his old former family and to have a look
around...parcels and cards with seasonal greetings, cards conveying
the 'Compliments of the Season', still arrive in this little village
from many places all over the globe. At various weddings in London in
the years after the war the old landlady and the old landlord of
Shefford were important and honoured people among the wedding guests.
The ties lasted a long time and they still survive."
At the end of
the war, the school and its students returned to London. Before they
left Shefford, Dr. Judith Grunfeld addressed the villagers, and the
following is an excerpt of her farewell remarks:
"In the
hearts of all our children, I can safely say, Shefford will continue
to live on. There were about 600 children in the course of the six
years who have passed through our school in Shefford. When they have
become old and grey, I am sure that they will still talk of you.
Wherever former pupils meet, Shefford will be affectionately
remembered and to God's throne the story will go. While on the
Continent children were starved to death and massacred throughout
these last grim years, this village gave them sunshine and warm
welcome. Somehow they found enough room even in the smallest cottage
for the evacuee-refugees. There were clean sheets, sheets which were
so difficult to replace. There was motherly care for them when they
were ill, presents for birthdays and the seasons of the year, leisure
to take them out for a treat, a place near the fire within the circle
of the family. Foster-parents and children grew fond of each other,
love engendered love and many a story will be told about loyalty that
defies years of separation. Men and women of Shefford, you can be
proud of yourselves. You have added a very wonderful chapter to the
annals of humanity....Now we are going to say goodbye. A part of the
road that is called life we have walked together. You were the hosts,
we were the guests. The guests are leaving now and they are leaving
with a blessing. You all know the famous saying in the Bible when God
says to Abraham 'Those that bless thee shall be blessed.' No doubt
this can be applied to these children of Israel that were under your
care and the way you have made them welcome here. We pray that the
kindness you have shown to them will be repaid to you from above and
that the divine blessing may come upon you abundantly so that your
own children may be strong and your families happy. We thank you,
mothers and fathers and all those who were good to us, the doctor for
his medical care so devotedly applied, the sergeant who mingled
discipline with kindness, the billeting officer for his patience, the
gentlemen of the clergy for their consideration, those who lent us
their halls to teach in, gave us their lecture rooms for our prayer
assemblies and our meals. Shefford may be small on the map, but we
shall see to it that its fame will be spread far and wide. I hope you
will remember us as we remember you, and when teachers at school want
to drive home a lesson about how to live up to a great challenge,
they will bring up the example of what happened during the Second
World War in Shefford, the little village in Bedfordshire."
Before
returning to London, she also addressed the staff and students of the
school, and she said:
"At times
our work seemed too difficult to cope with; but there was a driving
force within us that strengthened us and kept us alert; and that
force was engendered by the ghastly reports that reached us from the
Continent. We knew that God who saved us alive would ask one day ask
'And where have you been and what have you been doing while your
people were thrown into the burning hell and I kept you alive?' We
tried to answer this challenge and we built up a community of
children whom we taught to live the way of the Torah and to drink
from its living waters...We have thus tried to build one little
sanctuary whilst so many have been destroyed."
In the book
"Shefford," the author describes the school as a "Noah's
Ark" riding the waves of a great flood of anti-Jewish hatred in
Christian Europe. The unique story of this "ark" serves as
a reminder of human potential. And this story also serves as a
reminder that when we, the Children of Israel, remain faithful to our
own spiritual heritage and beliefs, we can gain the friendship and
respect of others.
Shalom,
Yosef Ben
Shlomo Hakohen (See below)
Note: The Book
"Shefford" by Dr. Judith Grunfeld has recently been
reprinted by Feldheim: www.feldheim.com
; moreover, the new edition contains a few memoirs of students at
Shefford.
There is also a
well-written biography of Dr. Judith Grunfeld. The title of this book
is "Rebetzin Grunfeld," and the author is Miriam Dansky. It
is published by ArtScroll:
http://artscroll.com/linker/hazon/ASIN/GRUP
