Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Allloooo to my dearest children, grandchildren, family, friends, neighbors, and all of you who are
interested in reading. 
NYC is in the midst of a hot and humid summer. I did not leave my home today. Amongst all the things I did in the house, I also took time to reminiscence of summers in years gone by.  Two of my grandchildren went to a sleep-away camp in Marshall, Indiana, which brought me to Camp Ramah in the Pennsylvanian Pocono Mountains during the years 1970-72. 
As you all know, I am a nurse, and during those summer years I was a camp nurse.  Avishay, my older son, was a camper, Adam was in the day care - Gan. ( In 1972, he was "adopted" by the senior camper group, called "The Chavura",  to be  kind of their mascot.)  Tanya was cared for by a Baby Sitter, a camp hire. 
I remember  those wonderful years with fondness. 
Camp Ramah had a camp mother named Jean Blum.  Jean was from Cherry Hill, New Jersey,
where the majority of the children in camp came from. Jean, very active in the Jewish communities of Cherry Hill and Philadelphia, knew most of the people living in the area, having connection to business, factories, and stores. 
Every year, when she came to camp, she had a "treasure" of gifts she received from donors in the form of arts and crafts material, spools of wool and fabric. 
In 1972, Jean came to camp with a large roll of beautiful lightweight upholstery material. 
My assigned bunk, in close distance to the infirmary, had two bedrooms and a bathroom. Real luxury apartment.  As I was settling into my summer dwelling, Jean came in with a large roll of fabric, offering to give me a piece to cover the window in the master bedroom.  I remember splitting the fabric half way, as Jean cut two strips for tying the just-made-to-order curtains.
With thumbtacks we placed the drape on the window. Jean was looking around and decided
that another curtain was needed for the bathroom. In one strong rip, she cut another piece of fabric and, then, as I was having a complete suite, Jean looked around and made a decision only a seasoned decorator could make:  the large bed  was in need of a cover. With one stroke, she tore a large piece for a bed cover.  I wanted another piece for making pillow cases, but chose not to ask.
However, the fabric was beautiful for its time. Large orange colored flowers on a background of light brown and yellow. 
The year was 1972, the going style for skirts was long as it was called then, the Maxi, and the fabric was the perfect type for those skirts.  As Jean and I admired the look of my bungalow, I asked her for a piece of the fabric, so I could sew a skirt.  At this, Jean jumped to her feet, with a quick "NO!!!"   I was surprised at her response, for I could not understand why she was so generous in giving me all the fabrics for the cabin, but yet refused to cut me just one yard for a skirt. 
Jean asked me to sit, and proceeded to tell me a story:
It was winter, when she received the roll of the fabric from one of her acquaintances in Philadelphia.  One day, during that winter,  the Cantor's wife came over to discuss some private matters.
She saw the roll of fabric and asked about it. Jean told her about the final destination for the roll of the fabric.  The Cantor's wife, very humbly, asked Jean if she could give her a few yards to make herself an outfit for an upcoming Bar-Mitzva.  Without hesitation, Jean cut for her a few yards.
The Cantor's wife was a fine amateur seamstress, and from this fabric made for herself a beautiful long skirt, a Bolero top, and to complete the outfit, she sewed a nice turban for her head, as she was a religious woman and kept her hair covered.
Finally the Bar-Mitzva party date arrived.  The Cantor's wife dressed up in her beautiful costume.
Arriving at the Marriott Hotel in Philadelphia,  she was mortified to see the decor of the Lobby was matching her outfit. 
As guests of honor, the cantor and wife were seated at the dais, where a long drape curtain hung in the back. All the chairs in the hall were also upholstered in same fabric, and the Cantor's wife with the beautiful turban was matching, too.
Not insisting, I thanked Jean, for what she gave me. 
 I am looking forward to seeing all my children and grandchildren at Benji's Bar-Mitzva,
coming soon in Milwaukee.
I love you all.  Have a wonderful summer.
From :  Ima, Savta, The Shvig, Estherika, Ludmilla, Me, Esther.

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