Hard Times

“There weren’t many Jews in my parents’ northeastern Pennsylvania,” I told Ralph.  “Celia and Morris Grossmann were among the few.  They ran a grocery store and always helped the neighbors pinch pennies when things were rationed during World War II.  Everyone called Celia the old Jew lady.”   

“Yeah,” Ralph said. “Things were tough then  but at least people stuck together.  It’s too bad we  can’t always count on that kind of cooperation.” 

“The Grossmann’s are local legends,” I said. “Who knows how much hardship they prevented in their day? The old timers remember them quite fondly.” 

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year 2020.  The Grossman’s were a real couple my father’d always talked about.  You know by now how it all works.  ROCHELLE , each Wednesday, gives us Friday Fictioneers.  This week she’s even supplied the photo prompt.

20 thoughts on “Hard Times

  1. Na'ama Yehuda says:

    🙂 I love it that it is a true story. Reminds me a little of our grocer, growing up. There was a period of time when my mom was alone with all seven of us, and one late friday afternoon the grocer came pedaling to our house on his bike with challah bread in his basket — he’d closed the store already but knew she had a house full of kids and wanted to make sure she had bread for the sabbath. That, to me, is the definition of kindness.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. Na'ama Yehuda says:

        Yes, and I’d say there are probably more of them than most know, and more than those who are invested in fear and distrust as means to mobilize the public, would want you to know exist … I’m of the opinion that most people are good and the vast majority have a capacity for good. And that, to me, is a very encouraging thing indeed …
        Happy New Year and may goodness and light be more pronounced than the less good and less bright qualities.


  2. rochellewisoff says:

    Dear Larry,

    There are good (and bad) people in all walks of life. This reminded me of the Wilners who owned a deli they called New York Bakery in Kansas City. Mrs. Wilner always had a cookie for us little kids.



    Liked by 1 person

  3. granonine says:

    There was a little store in the basement of the building next to our apartment house. The owner/operator, old by our measure, always put a couple of extra pieces of candy in our penny candy bags. My dad thought he was Jewish, probably because the store was never open on Saturday. We never questioned it. We just liked him because he liked us.

    Liked by 1 person

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