Waiting for a Miracle: Historical Novel

by Helen (Wininger) Livnat

Toward the middle of the nineteenth century, in a small house in a faraway village, on the south side of Russia, traveled a rumor that raised the hairs of all who heard it.

Maybe the candles were eyes too; the eyes of the Sabbath?

The shadows were so nice.They looked like Sabbath angels from another world.

Father raised his eyes. I could see a gray cloud covering his blue eyes.

It was very quiet tonight; too quiet.

My name is Ephraim. I’m the eldest son in our family, the first born. I was born in this house eleven years ago

I still haven’t told anything about my three sisters, since they are always playing together, and I don’t really fit into their world.

There was complete silence around the dining table when Father started talking. I don’t know why, but his voice was shaking.

from this day forward, you are not allowed to go out without an adult,

a rumor has been going around that the boys are going to be taken to serve in the Russian army. All Jewish boys older than ten years of age, are to be taken from their families to be disappeared somewhere in the Russian prairies.

I closed my eyes and dreamed about white angels, that only I could see, building his beard. I wonder why these magical moments came to my memory now.

We have information from other villages about Russian soldiers going from door to door taking all the boys who are ten years old and older.

There have been talks with Jewish estate owners in Bessarabia, who have agreed to adopt our children.

“This is Bessarabia,” said Vassily. “I’ve been here a few times, and there is a lot of wine, tobacco, and trees. The food is good and people live better here than in the parts we come from.”

My friend said he was almost thirteen. “You will stay here,” the man said to my friend.

In the distance, I saw a long chain of mountains. They were tall and blue and had on white snow hats. The mountains looked as though they were trying to fly into the clouds.

“I am Hirsh Wininger,”

In front of me stood a man a little older than my father

From this day on your name is Ephraim Wininger. You are our son,

“A few years ago we lost two of our children in a plague.

This was the second morning I’d responded like a lost boy and it had to stop.

Our story with the dog lasted a few months.

it was two years since the day I’d left my first family. One night I realized that I was thinking less of my old family. I started feeling guilty.

only here in Bessarabia you are protected by law from going to the Russian army. Nothing has changed in that area during the past years.

You gave back to me what God took away, the privilege of looking after you and taking care of you as if you were my own son.

I was a man. I was thirteen.

they needed to leave because their lives were in danger. He asked me to give you the package on one of my trips.

It is an old Bible, the entire Torah on one scroll. I carried it with me wherever I went.

All family members thought of me as a part of them.

By the time I turned eighteen, my life was running smoothly.

“I have been hearing rumors from nearby villages and from Kishinev that the situation for the Jews is getting worse,”

“On our last trip we arrived in villages and saw that many Jewish families had disappeared and no one could tell me where they went.

“Whenever I would go to Kishinev on business I would meet with a number of friends who were organizing in order to leave Russia and settle somewhere across the sea. They have been reading about immigration opportunities and there are long waiting lists for several places. The preferred place is America and some families talk about going to Palestine.”

I knew the truth in my heart. Under different circumstances, I would have wanted to be her partner.

“I worry about Lanna; you know how important she is to me. I only want to take one look at this man.

“Father said he approved the match and that they will set a date for the wedding soon. The man wants the wedding ceremony to be held in Odessa

“This man is a Jew called Moshe. He comes from Gura Humorului in Bukovina, an area that is a part of Austria. He is going to try and help us sell some of the wine that we have stored. I would like for you to go with him,

he told me about his seventeen-year-old daughter, how good and hard working she was.

“If something works out it means that it was God’s will. And if it doesn’t, God didn’t want it to be.”

“We will have the wedding at our house.

The time of the wedding came. I saw my bride, Feige, for the first time.

My father’s name is Moshe. He is an industrious and pleasant man and dedicated to his work. He remained a reliable tradesman his entire life.

We are six children in my family and I am the youngest one. My name is Feivel.

I was born in Gura Humorului, a beautiful part of Bukovina.

I needed open air, the woods and the birds twittering, and I would never be able to explain that to Father.

We didn’t know who was fighting who or why.

Schools were closed and transformed into drafting places.

“The group of Jews we are joining is going to the city of Olmitz in Moravia, and each of us will pack up our bags and be ready to go.”

“My name is Gorki but everyone calls me Guri,”

Maybe if I were older than nine years I would have known how to help.