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Remarks in Memory of my Mother

Remarks by Henry Joshua at the family gathering on October 18, 1998 in the home of Marc and Lotte Breuer honoring the memory of Elisabeth Joshua ז"ל.

אלישבע בת החבר יעקב הלוי ז"ל

כ"ז תשרי תרס"ג - א' אלול תשנ"ח

Elisabeth Joshua Eisenmann ז"ל

October 28, 1902 – August 23, 1998

My mother was a unique individual whose persona was the product of her unique family background, her schooling and the society and times in which she was born, raised and lived. But most of all she displayed a personality that was uniquely her own, which combined deep religious commitment with great courage, numerous talents and a sense of humor. She was outspoken, had strong opinions yet could be reasoned with. She was free with her advice to all family members and friends. She performed many גמילת חסדים, visiting the sick and the old, financially helping her family and other good causes. She was a volunteer at the Israel Museum in Jerusalem and made suggestions to the Jerusalem Municipality. She and her sister Jenny Breuer ז"ל founded a Free Loan fund in memory of their mother Dina Eisenmann ז"ל which benefitted hundreds of needy people. She lived very modestly for 43 years in her apartment in Rechov Izhaq Breuer 13 where she died peacefully on the first day of Ellul 5758, August 23, 1998.

My mother's life was divided into several quite different segments and as I list these time periods I will provide some anecdotes which relate to them. My mother was born in Antwerp on October 28, 1902 nearly 96 years ago. Her father, Jacob Eisenmann ז"ל, registered her birth in the "Siflonus Sidur", which he had given his wife Dina, as follows:

ביום ג' כ"ז לחודש תשרי תרס"ג

נולדה לי בתי אלישבע (Dienstag den 27 Tischrei 5663)

ה' הטוב זיכה אותי ואת אשתי שת' לגדלה לחופה ולמעשים טובים

There is an interesting contrast between the entry for my mother and the one which immediately precedes hers, namely the one for the birth of Shmuel Menachem, which reads in part:

ה' הטוב

יזכה אותי ואת אשתי שת' היקרה לגדלו לתורה לחופה ולמעשים טובים

( I underlined the additional words ).

The life in the Eisenmann household was Victorian. The Household help and tutors took care of the children with little interaction by the parents except on שבת. Jacob Eisenmann died on Dec. 3, 1913 the 4th of Kislev 5674. When he died he was 53 years old and my mother 11.

In 1914 the Eisenmann family had to leave Antwerp because they were German citizens and WWI had started. They first went to Holland (which was neutral in WWI), then to Frankfurt and in 1916 back to now German occupied Antwerp. After WWI the widow Dina Eisenmann settled in Frankfurt where my mother started a Kindergarten, mostly for family members. At the Shivo for my mother in Jerusalem a few of her alumni attended including Jacob Bar Or and Rose Joshua nee Levi. Ulla Merkin, also an alumnus still has an ashtray made in the kindergarten.

In 1929 my mother and father, Max Joshua ז"ל, were married in Frankfurt. She told me that under the Chupa the מסדר קדושין, Rabbi Joseph Breuer ז"ל, spoke about the building of the משכן and specifically about the בריח התיכון. The בריח התיכון miraculously went through all the קרשים and kept them together. Similarly, it was suggested, that the new couple should be זוכה to keep the various members of the family together just as the בריח התיכון kept the קרשים together. My mother took this admonition to heart and was successful in keeping in contact with nearly all members of the Eisenmann and Joshua families, as well as countless other relatives and friends. She showed great interest in everyone, young or old and kept in touch through frequent letters and phone calls. Family members who visited Israel nearly always stopped by to see her in her Bait Vegan apartment. My parents settled in Hamburg where my father and his parents lived. Three children were born to them: Karin in March 1930, Jacob in February 1932 and myself in December 1934.

The Joshuas were a respected family in Hamburg with lay leadership positions in the חברה קדישה and The Talmud Tora Real Shule. At the Shiva for my mother Mr. Leibel Bistritzky (who used to own the kosher cheese store on the lower East Side) related that his father (a Buyaner Chosid) had a chavruso with my father, that they learned פסחים מסכת and that he still had the גמרא they learned from.

In 1938, in order to escape the Nazis, my parents wanted to relocate. They first went to Switzerland, to St. Gallen, where my mother's sister Ella and her husband Siegfried Wertheimer had settled. The Swiss did not grant them the necessary permission especially after my mother was denounced to the police because she had helped her sister by cleaning her windows. This was illegal since she had no permission to work in Switzerland.

My parents then moved to Holland and first settled in Scheveningen, which is not far from the Hague. Dina Eisenmann, and her son Samnel Eisenmann and his family, then lived in the Hague. After the German invasion, we were forced to move away from the coast and settled in Utrecht. Our financial situation was such that my parents had to sell their belongings, including furniture, to buy food.

We were fortunate, however, in that we were provided with Paraguayan passports which gave us a measure of protection against deportation. Nevertheless, in June 1943, we were taken to a Dutch camp called Westerbork, where Dina Eisenmann was imprisoned already a few months earlier. In Feb. 1944, Dina Eisenmann, who was already 80 years old and in poor health, as well as our family were taken to the Bergen Belsen concentration camp. My mother helped her mother as much as possible, but Dina Eisenmann died three days after our arrival in Bergen Belsen. My mother was proud that she could help her mother in her last days. In particular, when Dina Eisenmann asked where she was, my mother answered that we were in Switzerland. This relieved her concern before her death.

My mother appreciated humor even under difficult conditions, and she liked to tell the following story. In the camp was a group of Tunisian Jews who had some food to trade. One of these Jews agreed to exchange some rations for a piece of jewelry. When the exchange was made, my mother noticed that the potatoes which were supposed to be included in the deal were missing. When she called this shortage to the attention of the Tunisian Jew, he said, "Les pommes de terre, apres la guerre" (you'll get the potatoes after the war).

My mother's birthday was in October, and as October 1944 came along, we did not know what to give her as a birthday present. However, a certain Rav Schuster from Holland, taught the three Joshua children to sing, to a nice tune, Psalm 121,

שיר למעלות אשא עיני אל ההרים מאין יבא עזרי

("I raise my eyes to the mountains, from where will my help come?")

And that was our birthday present for her.

On January 16, 1945, my father ז"ל, died in the camp. He was 49 years old. A few days later some German functionaries interviewed prisoners with South American passports in order to exchange them for German nationals. When my mother was questioned, she was asked, "Where is your husband?” She answered that he had died. "What did he die of?” Her reply was, "Hunger". This typified my mother's fearless attitude in that she refused to use more diplomatic terminology.

A transport which included the surviving Joshua family members, took us to a camp in Southern Germany. When we arrived she weighed 35 kilo, which is approximately 75 pounds.

After the war, my mother showed great ingenuity in arranging her affairs and getting official permission to travel. She liked to tell the story of meeting another survivor on a train. She asked the man, "Where are you from?", and he gave the name of some Eastern European town. Then he asked, "Where are you from?", to which my mother replied, as was mentioned in last week's פרשה, "נע ונד", (a vagrant and a wanderer). The man responded with, "Yes, I know the place".

We moved to France and stayed with Tante Hannah Feist ז"ל, and then with Moshe ז"ל and Selma Klein, now Catane, in Vichy. That is where Marc taught me my Bar Mitzvah drasha.

In February 1948, we arrived in New York. We moved to an apartment at 245 Fort Washington Ave. which my mother used as a boarding house. There she took care of sick, elderly, and blind people. It was officially recognized by the City of New York.

In 1954, my mother settled in Bait Vegan, Jerusalem, close to my sister Karin, where she bought an apartment and lived comfortably. She had a tremendous number of visitors from near and far and the hospitality to her guests was often interrupted by phone calls. She spoke to each visitor in the language that they were comfortable be it in French, German, English or Dutch and even some Ivrit. A few years ago, old age, and breaking first one hip and then the other, made it necessary for her to be helped by live-in Filipino ladies. The last one was named Mercy (Mercedes). Mercy became very close to my mother. On the day after my mother's funeral, she showed us a very interesting letter that my mother had written to her. Apparently, Mercy and my mother had a disagreement, during which my mother might have expressed herself forcefully. The letter that Mercy showed us was an apology from my mother to Mercy, and a promise that whatever had happened would not reoccur. During the last few years, as physical activities became more difficult for her, and her frequent trips to visit us in New York changed from the strenuous to the impossible, she started to describe herself as a "worn out machine". Nevertheless, she enjoyed family get-togethers and continued having many visitors. The last family gathering was a farewell for my son Meir and his family before his return to the U.S. and settling in Canada.

About two weeks before her death my mother was brought to Share Zedek Hospital with cardiac and circulatory problems. As it turned out, there was nothing they could do for her. She was brought home to her apartment where she still had visitors and accepted phone calls.

I was fortunate I had the זכות to arrive on Thursday, August 20, so that I could be with her the last four days of her life. We had a wonderful Shabbat with her. On Friday night, Jacob and I davened with her and had our Shabbos meal with her. On Sunday morning, which was the second day Rosh Chodesh, I still said Hallel and sang zemiroth with her. She died peacefully at 2:00 pm that afternoon with her family at her bedside. The Tahara took place in her apartment and the funeral started at 6:15 PM. In spite of the short notice, many people attended. Rosh Chodesh precluded any eulogies, but my brother bid her farewell with a few moving words as we paused on Rechov Breuer. She was buried on Har Zeitim close to the graves of her sister, Tante Jenny and Isaac Breuer ז"ל. We sat shivo in her apartment, Karin in one room mostly for the ladies and Jacob and I in the other room. Hundreds of people came to pay their respects.

Considering the tragedies and difficulties which befell her, my mother could have become a tragic figure. Her strong personality, her faith, and optimism precluded that.

She died peacefully and with dignity. She was fortunate to see children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and even one great-great-grandchild who are honest Shomrei Mitzvoth. She was loved and respected by her family, those who lived in Bait Vegan and all who knew her.

תהיה זכרה ברוך

This is a picture of the grave of Elisabeth Joshua on the Mount of Olives Cemetery in Jerusalem. A plaque in memory of Max Joshua was attached to the foot of the grave.