So anyway, we'd left Yacob and Bailey eking out a living, running the deli, their daughters, sleeping in a rented room, attending school, and I've no clue as to Jack's gainful choice of employment when the candyman, the hardworking soul who'd replenished the deli's candy counter, offered my grandparents a suggestion that never would have occurred to either one left on their own: 'So, Yacob, now that prohibition has been repealed, have you thought of serving beer? Business at the other deli is booming.'
Do Grandpa's eyes open wide? Does grandma's brow furrow? I don't know. What I do know is this: Both my dad and Aunt Risa had agreed that once their parents had listened astutely to that which the candy man had to say, necessity, being the mother of invention, suggested that adding beer to the menu made sense, because shekels made from serving beer added up much more quickly than soft drinks ordered with pastrami on rye, and life in the back room had become less easy to bear, over time.
As the candy man had serviced many eating establishments, he'd offered knowledgable information to which my grandparents listened openly, suggesting that, in this case, change for the better resulted after three heads, on the same page, proved better than two.
Once the Candyman left
Grandma and grandpa talked
Grandpa rented a truck
Father and son hauled cases of beer from
The brewery into the deli's storeroom where
They'd slept
And the fact that everyone had
Listened to each other openly
Is the primary reason why clarity welcomed
This new found source of income into their midst
And thus did it come to pass that
That which had once been considered forbidden fruit
Came to be seen as mana from heaven
And in this way did brainstorming toward
Change for the better
Offer my family the opportunity to
Create a safe haven
Within a spacious apartment, which came equipped
With reason to exercise, daily, as it was situated
On the third floor :)
Tomorrow, a funny story, concerning Will's grandma, Ivy, before prohibition had been wisely reconsidered and repealed ...
PS
After reading about my dad's lodgings during his youth, I'm sure you can imagine the boundless nature of his joy (which I'd had the pleasure to witness) when my father poured over plans for his dream house. Once Dad's dream underwent construction, I'd watched his blue eyes beam with pride every time we'd drive out to the suburbs, approach our spacious, corner lot, park the car and stand in front of Dad's creation, which, upon completion, had served as safe haven for Jack's beloved Jennie, Annie, Lauren and Grandma Ella.
Upon reflecting back with an eye attuned to insight into my father's idealistic attitude toward life, stories, rich in history, suggest that Dad's realistic achievement of creating safe haven was a 'tacha machiah'! (which, translated, literally, from Yiddish, suggests 'a small good thing'; however, upon considering the history of one man's life, my father's creation of safe haven had achieved a many wondrous thing :)
Or, in the words of Mother Teresa:
"We can do no great things … only small things with great love."
Do Grandpa's eyes open wide? Does grandma's brow furrow? I don't know. What I do know is this: Both my dad and Aunt Risa had agreed that once their parents had listened astutely to that which the candy man had to say, necessity, being the mother of invention, suggested that adding beer to the menu made sense, because shekels made from serving beer added up much more quickly than soft drinks ordered with pastrami on rye, and life in the back room had become less easy to bear, over time.
As the candy man had serviced many eating establishments, he'd offered knowledgable information to which my grandparents listened openly, suggesting that, in this case, change for the better resulted after three heads, on the same page, proved better than two.
Once the Candyman left
Grandma and grandpa talked
Grandpa rented a truck
Father and son hauled cases of beer from
The brewery into the deli's storeroom where
They'd slept
And the fact that everyone had
Listened to each other openly
Is the primary reason why clarity welcomed
This new found source of income into their midst
And thus did it come to pass that
That which had once been considered forbidden fruit
Came to be seen as mana from heaven
And in this way did brainstorming toward
Change for the better
Offer my family the opportunity to
Create a safe haven
Within a spacious apartment, which came equipped
With reason to exercise, daily, as it was situated
On the third floor :)
Tomorrow, a funny story, concerning Will's grandma, Ivy, before prohibition had been wisely reconsidered and repealed ...
PS
After reading about my dad's lodgings during his youth, I'm sure you can imagine the boundless nature of his joy (which I'd had the pleasure to witness) when my father poured over plans for his dream house. Once Dad's dream underwent construction, I'd watched his blue eyes beam with pride every time we'd drive out to the suburbs, approach our spacious, corner lot, park the car and stand in front of Dad's creation, which, upon completion, had served as safe haven for Jack's beloved Jennie, Annie, Lauren and Grandma Ella.
Upon reflecting back with an eye attuned to insight into my father's idealistic attitude toward life, stories, rich in history, suggest that Dad's realistic achievement of creating safe haven was a 'tacha machiah'! (which, translated, literally, from Yiddish, suggests 'a small good thing'; however, upon considering the history of one man's life, my father's creation of safe haven had achieved a many wondrous thing :)
Or, in the words of Mother Teresa:
"We can do no great things … only small things with great love."
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