HAVANA

February 4, 1939

Dear Malka,

Today was such a happy day. You woke up hungry, went to the kitchen, and got yourself a thick slice of challah slathered with butter and sprinkles of sweet Cuban sugar.

Until today you refused to wear anything but your woolen dresses from Poland. But after breakfast, you put on the green dress I made for you. And you slipped on the sandals from Zvi Mandelbaum, sandals like mine, with all your toes showing.

It was Shabbos. Papa and Mama and our brothers had gone to shul for an early-morning service before coming back to open the store. I was on the balcony watering the plants, and you came and said, “Look at me!”

“Malka, you look so beautiful! The dress fits you perfectly and it really does match the color of your green eyes!”

“You sewed this dress yourself?” you asked.

I could see how you enjoyed the way the dress swirled as you moved.

“I did,” I replied. “I designed it and I sewed it.”

“You are good. No wonder Mama is proud of you.”

“Thank you, Malka.”

Then you said, “Maybe I can help. Bubbe taught me to embroider flowers. I could embroider flowers on the dresses.”

“What a great idea! Those can be our special dresses!”

We hugged each other, and although you were still light as air, your feet stood firmly on the ground now. We were becoming real sisters again, the way we had been in Poland.

“Esther, I want to start reading the letters you wrote to me.”

“That’s so wonderful, Malka! Let me get them for you.”

I ran to our bedroom and brought out the old accounting notebook from Poland where I’d been writing my letters to you.

“How about if I read a letter aloud, then you read a letter aloud?”

“Yes, Malka! Yes!”

After we read the first two, you turned to me and said, “Sister, you wrote all these letters just for me?”

“Yes, I did. I missed you so much. And writing was a comfort for me too. I felt like I was talking to you across the distance and preserving new memories. It was like gathering seashells along the shore to keep them from being washed away.”

We went back to reading the letters and were so entertained sitting in the rocking chairs and reading aloud to each other that we didn’t notice when the key turned in the lock and Mama and Papa and our brothers returned home.

“Good Shabbos!” they called out from the entryway.

I quickly closed the notebook and hid it under my seat, since we both wanted to keep our letters secret. “Good Shabbos!” we called back. “We’re sitting here by the balcony!”

Papa’s eyes shone when he saw you sitting with me, and Mama said how nice you looked in the green dress and the sandals.

Then I said to Papa, “We’re going to need embroidery thread in every color. Malka is going to make special embroideries for our dresses.”

“That is good, very good,” Papa said. “I will give you all the thread you want, happily.”

For the first time in days, Papa’s furrowed brow relaxed and I heard him utter a prayer of thanks under his breath.

With all the love a sister can give,

ESTHER