7.

Rachel Calof – My
Story – Text 2
The time involved from when I became a servant girl in my
aunt's house through loving and losing my butcher boy and
preparing for my journey to America was nine months. As the
time for my departure approached, my sorrow at leaving my
5 dear brothers and my sick sister grew. What can one say? We
knew that we would probably never see one another again.
Words cannot express my anguish at the prospect of leaving
them.
My American boyfriend had arranged with an agent in
10 Brescatovaski to plan my journey to the Russian-Polish border.
No money had been provided me for the long trip across
Russia, Poland, and Germany to Hamburg where I would board
the ship to America. I had to raise money for food and other
essentials, at least until I reached the ship. This proved to be a
15 tough job. Even though the relatives could well afford it, they
showed me no generosity.
Yet it was on their own interests to provide the means to
dispose of this troublesome girl who was an embarrassment to
them all; a girl, unmarried, already eighteen years old, without
20 a dowry and who might even marry a butcher, thereby soiling
the family honor beyond redemption. The reward of getting rid
of me permanently won out over their avarice, and they got
together fifty dollars which was presented to me with great
reluctance.
25 Many obstacles awaited me during the course of my trip to
America, not the least of which was the fact that the passport
which I carried was in the name of Rachel Chavetz, the
shochet's daughter. Prior to my selection as second choice, and
when it appeared certain that the Chavetz girl would be the
30 traveler, the husband-to-be had applied to the American
immigration authorities and steamship company for passage
and admission into the United States for Rachel Chavetz. This
was the passport sent to Chaya, ad this was the document which
I was expected to use for transport to New York and to gain
35 entry to the promised land.
I made my farewell visit to my dear little personal family,
my poor brothers and little sister. I was completely broken up. I
felt as though my very soul was being torn from my body.
Words cannot describe my anguish at our parting.

Rachel CALOF, My Story, 1984