Fred Smith, a testing expert who advises anti-testing groups and is quick to spot testing errors, sent me his Christmas memories.

Diane,

Thank you for your warm Christmas reminiscence.

My father, Max, was born in Russia—Proskurov in the Ukraine in either 1912 or 1913. No one knew for sure and whatever records were kept were never computerized. He came with his older sister (Rivka = Becky) and mother (Sarah) to New York by ship in 1920, where the three met up with my grandfather (Samuel) a tailor who made women’s dresses.

The name on their traveling papers went from Smeet (pronunciation of the name as spelled in the Cyrillic alphabet) to Schmidt as they passed through Germany to Smith in England, from which they sailed for America. Many people refuse to believe that story—figuring a long Russian name was shortened by some lazy government worker on Ellis Island – responsible, no doubt, for changing (i.e., Americanizing) the names of thousands of East European immigrants in order to save himself work. They figure that either Smith was bestowed on us that way—or the other guess is that my grandfather changed the name in order to pass, as what – A non-Jewish tailor who spoke Yiddish?

The best I could tell Grandpa Sam was not observant, although he and Sarah had the most wonderful Seders each year in an over-crowded Bronx apartment exploding with cousins and food. My Uncle Harry (m. Becky) did the Motzie(?). Pop went to all-boys De Witt Clinton HS, graduated and went to work in the garment center.

My mother (Bessie, which became Bette by her choosing) Weisburd was born at home in Brooklyn in 1916, the only child of Joe and Fannie, both of Kiev. She was part of what we now call an extended family—a Yiddish-first speaking family—that included an aunt (Esther) and uncle (Sam), cousins and a revered grandmother (Baba) who lived to be 106 and had a shot of schnapps every day.

We didn’t know to call her the matriarch. I remember going to synagogue year after year on the High Holidays to kiss her and see her praying in the woman’s section. She did the mystical Shabbos candle lighting every Friday. I was responsible on occasion for going down to Leitner’s candy store and bringing her back a copy of the Forwards. But for the most part, that side of the family was not religious/observant. Socialists, yes and unionists (as was my father).

Max and Bette met at a Christmas party in 1932. Depression-scarred, finding and holding a job was paramount. Mom got a commercial diploma from all-girls Walton HS, where she learned to be an excellent bookkeeper. First date was a movie—King Kong. They married in 1937. I was born in 1943—I don’t know what they were waiting for?! Mom’s a spry 97 and back in the Bronx via Florida, where she lived with Pop after his retirement.

When I was a kid I believed in Santa Claus and loved the feelings of Xmas. I asked once or twice if we could have a tree like the other kids in our mainly Bronx Irish neighborhood (Kingsbridge – St. John’s parish). Mom said “we don’t do that.” But I managed to get vicarious joy to the world.

Went to nearest synagogue—an orthodox shul, the Kingsbridge Center of Israel—made friends with other Jewish kids, learned to read Hebrew without comprehension, learned Old Testament stories and some history, learned about the holidays—passed the high-stakes Bar Mitzvah final exams needed to graduate and came out feeling good about being Jewish.

And I so appreciate your vivid recollection of having to learn Christmas songs—and humming some awkward words. We must have had a sense that they didn’t apply to us: “Christ, the Savior, is born.” What Savior?? I remember the words to Hark the Herald Angels Sing. etc. to this day. At each Christmas assembly the vice-principal, Miss Flannely, recited the 23rd Psalm. Don’t know exactly why. Tradition!

Finally, I remember starting every school day (PS 7) with the Pledge of Allegiance and singing Our Father’s Guard to Thee which, for some inexplicable reason, never failed to move me with the words “land where my fathers died.” Still can’t figure that one out

As you said: It is Christmas. It is a time to celebrate peace and joy and goodwill towards all. We can all share those hopes. Amen and L’Chaim.

Fred