Newspaper Page Text
In the spring of 1932, when
I was six years of age, my folks
moved in with my Aunt Rosa.
She was a happy person with
a wonderful disposition and
always had a kind word for
anyone, especially a stranger
to the city. She loved to cook
and had become known as the
best and only kosher caterer in
Atlanta. She was a short wo
man, with a ready smile for
anyone who came to the door
for a meal and a place to sleep.
She was especially warmheart
ed to any single men who were
visiting Atlanta for the first
time and had no family or
friends where they might be
made welcome. She was “Aunt
Rosa” to everyone — family
and stranger, alike.
Aunt Rosa lived in an apart
ment house with an endless
number of rooms, or so it seem
ed to a shy eight year old. Our
family was given the largest
bedroom, the one at the end
of the hall, and we soon began
to treasure this room, for, as
the years wore on, more people
would find a home with Aunt
Rosa and become permanent
guests. I did not know it at the
time, but we were living in the
first Jewish boarding house in
Atlanta, as well as having our
food prepared by the only
kosher caterer in the city. No
wonder anyone new to the city
could have a wonderful meal
and a place to sleep for a nomi
nal fee.
Some of the men who came
to Aunt Rosa’s home only stay
ed for one night; others, for
years; and these soon became
her “adopted” sons. When they
went back home, word would
be received by Aunt Rosa that
they would always remember
her and her warm hospitality.
As time progressed, and the
boarders became “part of the
family”, it was necessary for
Aunt Rosa to search for a larg
er residence.
Time passed, and since more
of the newcomers were staying
with Aunt Rosa permanently,
it was obvious we would have
to give up our privacy and take
a room downstairs. The house
was of a two-story style, and by
taking a room nearer the kit
chen, we could help Aunt Rosa
serve dinner. It was very hard
for me to give up the room that
faced the street, had a small
porch and two large window
boxes where one could sit and
gaze for hours, letting the mind
drift and dream.
As Jews, we had many oc
casions to sit down and enjoy
a leisurely and filling meal.
For instance, on the eve of the
Passover, we would be in the
kitchen until past midnight,
cooking and preparing the Se
der meal. To cook for 25 people
was a daily occurrence, but to
prepare for 50 or maybe 100
was something to strain any
one’s efforts. There were never
enough pots or large enough
ones, and the food had to be
prepared two or three times
and kept on the backporch, for
the refrigerator was packed
with no room to spare. Not only
were succulent meats and poul
try prepared, but an endless
number of cakes, cookies and
an abundance of sweets not
seen during the year, but only
on this festive occasion of the
Jews’ deliverance from slav
ery as free men.' The thought
books are fading, the story in
side is as brilliantly told as
during that evening long ago.
After a number of years, my
folks decided it was necessary
to move into a place of their
own. My mother had borne a
son during our stay at Aunt
Rosa’s, and young children
were always in the way when
there were guests to be fed. Af
ter tearful goodbys, an apart
ment was secured within walk
ing distance of Aunt Rosa’s
home I had never had a room
of my own until now, and to a
young miss entering her teen
years this was like having the
moon and the stars. Though
we did not live a great distance
never occurred to anyone
working in the kitchen until
all hours of the dawn to taste
or sample the numerous varie
ties of entrees or sweets to be
served during the next week.
When everyone had come
home and changed clothes for
the evening meal, hush set
tled over those seated at the
tables. Though all the guests
knew each other, on this holi
day it was the custom to feed
any newcomers who might be
passing through the city or
looking for a place to live.
As the blessing over the wine
was said by the head of the
house, everyone lifted their
glasses and joined him in the
opening prayer. This has al
ways left an impression of be
longing to the past, which was
one of tradition and family to
getherness. The books contain
ing the story of the Jews’ exo
dus from Egypt as slaves which
we used for that evening are
still being used by my ‘family,
and, although the covers of the
from Aunt Rosa, she never had
time to visit with us. It, there
fore, became a daily habit of
mine to walk to her home after
school or spend most of the day
there during the summer.
Many is the occasion, I re
member well, when Aunt Ro
sa had to bake for someone’s
simeha. (Joyful event) A wed
ding or a bar mitzvah always
brought much excitement to
her routine cooking! Small tas
ty cakes, the likes of which I
had never seen or yet to see,
were created in the twinkling
of an eye. Dozens and dozens
of small round cookies with
different jelly centers and
powdered sugar tops were left
on the table to cool.
Many of Aunt Rosa’s “boys”
soon married and settled in At
lanta in homes of their own.
All continued to call her Aunt
Rosa and to visit whenever
they had an opportunity away
fjom their personal life. Some
had gone into business such as
Abe, the butcher; others had
the
only
one
of
a
kind
By MARCIA YARFITZ
u
24
The So'ulhern Israelite