Driven from home; a true story of a converted Jewess

Preface

This little story of my life has not been written to arouse sympathy for myself, but as a testimony to the mighty" saving and keeping power of the Lord Jesus Christ, to the Jew first and also to the Gentile.

Some there may be of my own people who have heard the voice of Him that was lifted up on Calvary to draw all men unto Him, yet fearing trials and persecution have not trusted Him. Should any fear the hardness of the way, let me assure you that God is faithful and His grace is sufficient for all things.

God grant that a deeper sympathy and interest may be kindled in the hearts of those who love Jesus for poor blinded Israel, and that prayers may ever ascend to the throne of grace in their behalf. .

Let us pray that the Keeper of Israel, who neither slumbers nor sleeps, will graciously hear the united prayers of His children and take away the vail of Moses from before their eyes.

Contents

Page

Childhood— Chapter 1 7

My Brother and Mrs. Deike — Chapter II 21

Chapter I

In the little town of Deutsh Eylau, Northern Germany, I was born. My parents, who were strictly orthodox Jews, lived in a cottage close by the Geserick Sea. Many times in early childhood I played upon its banks and looked out upon its quiet blue waters, and visions came to me of the outside world. In these day dreams how my heart bounded at thoughts of the great success which should crown my future life, and how vivid still are the pictures which hang on memory's walls !

I can see the quaint, narrow streets along which the women walk carrying water in pails suspended from wooden yokes resting on their shoulders. I hear the clanking of their wooden slippers on the pavements as they bear their heavy burdens from door to door.

As the last woman vanishes from memory's vision, my thoughts turn to the superstition with which the life of the town abounded. I see troubled faces, and hear the deep sighs of men and women bemoaning the fate of children born on Friday. Then I hear tales of horrible witches who hold the life and death of people in the hollow of their hands.

I remember the story of my own unlucky birth, for I was born on Friday. Before I had reached the age of twelve months, my parents were impressed with a deep realization of the unhappy fate sure to be mine. In a severe fall I bit through my tongue so that the tip of the tongue was almost severed. The doctor who was summoned at once advised that the point of the tongue should be removed in order to save my life, as there was danger of my bleeding to death, since it was impossible to take stitches. It seemed that if my life was spared I must always be dumb.

I can imagine the distress and sorrow of my poor mother; how she must have taken me within her loving arms and pressed me to her aching heart, refusing the advice of the doctor and trusting in God and nature. Her faith was rewarded; for, contrary to the doctor's expectation, the wound healed, leaving but a small scar on the upper part of the tongue.

More misfortune seemed to follow me. I became the victim of a reputed witch, of which there were several in our neighborhood. Many and strange were the stories circulated about them. It was asserted that on June 24th at midnight the witches anointed themselves with a special ointment and rode upon broomsticks to the top of St. John's Mountain, a peak a short distance from the city. When all were assembled, Satan him-

DRIVEN FROM HOME.

self joined them and gave instructions in witchcraft. At those meetings plans were made as to who should be their victims during the coming year.

A feast would follow at which the most loathsome food would be eaten with seemingly as much pleasure as though it consisted of every delicacy. All this ended with a dance in which the brooms were transformed into men. People so fully believed in witchcraft that they were in constant dread of witches, and feared to go near the house of anyone having that reputation.

For some years we lived among Polish-speaking people and learned the Polish language. We played happily with their children, and, although we heard witch stories, no witches ever molested us.

When I was about five years of age, however, my parents moved into a different locality. Across the street from our new home lived a reputed witch. Every one avoided this woman. I often noticed that when people met her they would make the sign of the cross as soon as they had passed by. Although I did not know what the sign of the cross meant, I learned in later years that they hoped by crossing themselves to prevent the witch from doing them any harm.

My parents, though Jews, fully believed in witchcraft and were very superstitious. As we played around, many of the neighbors would call us into their homes, giving us small toys and occasionally candy and nuts, and thus persuading us to speak to them in the Polish language.

One day, when my sister and I were playing out of doors, a little girl whom we had not seen before drew near and asked if she might join us in our sport. As she was of about the same age as ourselves and was nicely dressed, we welcomed her as a playmate. She frequently came to us and we became much attached to her and invited her to share our indoor games on disagreeable days. One day she in turn, invited us to her home, to which we readily consented. Not until we had reached the doorstep did we realize that our little friend lived in the witch's home.

At once we demanded who she was. She replied that the witch was her aunt and that she made her home with her. It was too late for retreat, for the little girl had the door opened for us and we felt impelled to go in. Her aunt was pleased to see us, and offered us bread and butter with a liberal sprinkling of sugar over it. Although fond of such food, we promptly refused it, for we had been instructed never to take food from Gentiles.

Time passed on; fall approached and the days grew colder. As we were playing in the street one day a chilly, drizzling rain began to fall. Our little playmate saw us and called to us that they had a bright fire in the open grate and wished us to come in and share its warmth and comfort. This appealed to us, and, without obtaining our mother's consent, we entered Annie's home. We had no open grate in our home, and it was fascinating to us to see the fire and hear the crackling of the wood.

Presently Annie's aunt came in with some potatoes in her apron, which she buried in the hot ashes to roast. When they were done she took them out and offered them to us. They looked so tempting that we were unable to resist. We reasoned to ourselves that, since they were not cooked in a vessel, there could be no harm in our eating them.

Hardly had we tasted them, when the door opened and our mother appeared. She saw the potatoes in our hands. For a moment she appeared horror-stricken. Soon, however, she recovered, and snatching the potatoes from us she took us home, there to receive the punishment our disobedience merited.

More serious consequences, however, were to follow. During the night we were taken sick and before morning our poor little bodies were burning with fever. Mother was greatly alarmed and naturally her first thought was that we were bewitched. Hence, instead of consulting a physician she went to another reputed witch to ask her advice. She gave mother some instructions with regard to treating the disease, and warding off further calamity; mother returned, confirmed in her belief that we were under the power of the other witch in consequence of having eaten the roasted potatoes in her house, and though she followed the instructions of the second woman exactly, there was no improvement in our condition.

When fatlier, who had been away from home, returned in answer to an urgent summons, he at once called a physician who pronounced the sickness a severe cold. His remedies were faithfully given, but we rapidly grew worse.

In great anxiety my parents again called upon the witch. She repeated her assertions that we were the victims of witchcraft, and declared that the only remedy was to outwit the other witch. This, she confessed, she was unable to do, for she had not sufficient knowledge to treat the disease successfully.

She recommended a woman living at a distance of eight miles from our home. This woman had the reputation of being a great witch, who possessed the power of healing diseases caused by witchcraft, but she would seldom confer with women, so father went to see what she could do for us. He was told that he must under no condition speak to any woman he might chance to meet. He carried with him a present for the witch and a bundle of clothing which we wore at the time we were bewitched. Upon his return the instructions of this woman were faithfully carried out.

I do not know what this wonderful woman said to him, for in everything great secrecy was observed. She had given my father nine different herbs from which a bath was to be prepared in which we were to be bathed twice a day, morning and evening. She had assured father that there was no danger and that she was fully able to break the spell of the other witch and check the power of the disease.

Immediately upon father's return the bath was prepared, but dire results followed. We did not recover as the witch had promised, and during the second bath my little sister expired in mother's arms. Great was the grief of all for our loved one. For a whole week my parents sat in ashes and ate the bread of affliction, according to the law.

My life hung by a slender thread and for some time the heroic efforts of the physician and my loving mother's care seemed unavailing; but after two long months of suffering a change for the better came, and there was much rejoicing and thankfulness that my life had been spared. Gradually health and strength returned, but during these months I had become a strong-willed, petted child accustomed to have my slightest wish gratified.

As might perhaps be expected, I grew to have less confidence in witchcraft as the years passed; and when I was about twelve years of age an incident occurred which showed to me the gross superstitions that were commonly believed. I longed for the time to come when I might be able to convince the poor deluded people that such nonsense ought to be entirely renounced. My childish heart revolted at the bondage of these superstitions.

Mrs. B., a popular Jewish lady with a family of daughters ranging in age from six to twenty years, lived in our town. Their house was very large and they were fond of entertaining, and on nearly every night in the week we gathered in their hospitable home, both old and young, assured of a hearty welcome and a pleasant time. One evening it was discovered that a little savings bank containing a few pieces of money had disappeared. The general belief was that it had been stolen, but the question was, "Who could have taken it?" Inquiries were at once made, as the bank was highly prized, but no clue was found that would lead to its recovery.

An old Gentile woman, who occasionally did work for Mrs. B., heard about the loss and at once volunteered to locate the missing article. As all were anxious to discover the guilty one, a reward was promised the woman if she could detect the thief. An evening was set for the purpose, and a number of the usual guests were present. When all were seated the woman was called in. She brought with her an old song book and a large rusty key, an heirloom of several generations, which was to be tested by the oracle. All eyes were fixed upon the woman and her actions, the company waiting with bated breath. The general belief in such cases is that the key will swing about when the guilty one is mentioned. The woman seized the key, held it aloft, and thrice made the sign of the cross upon key, book and herself, while the family and guests began to call off the names of those present and the names of absent neighbors, but there was no sign from the oracle. Again the woman made the sign of the cross and asked questions of the oracle. I could keep silent no longer but burst into laughter, exclaiming that we were all foolish to believe such nonsense, and I declared that none of the guests had taken the bank, for we were not thieves.

My remarks and unconcealed mirth angered the woman, who warned me to beware lest the vengeance of the oracle fall upon me. While having no fear of the oracle, I suppressed my disgust, for I was afraid that the old woman might do me harm or even brand me as the thief. Soon a third attempt was made, and as the key turned around different names were mentioned, among them being that of an orphan girl who lived with her miserly old grandmother. As soon as this name was spoken, the book swung around. Three times this was done, and each time the book moved — a sure sign that she was guilty.

The poor girl, bursting into tears, declared her innocence, but who would believe her in the face of such convincing proof? It was recalled that only a few days previous to the loss of the bank she had been seen admiring it, and besides she was the only one of the guests who had seen it, or even knew of its existence. Mrs. B. and her daughters had no pity for the lonely girl, though those pleasant evenings at their home had been the only bright spots in her life. Through this incident she must henceforth be deprived of even such a simple pleasure.

I could not believe her guilty ; and, child though I was, I endeavored to defend her. But the others were so positive of her guilt that they would not listen to reason, insisting that she must give up the stolen bank or they would have her arrested. In vain the girl protested her innocence; and, had it not been for Mrs. B.'s refusal to have an officer enter her home, the girl would have been arrested at that time. As it was, she was told to go home and never to let her face be seen in that home again. As the poor girl left the room, my heart went out to her in sympathy. Even now I seem to see her pale sad face and hear her sobs as she went forth from that home.

Utterly disgusted with the whole proceeding, I resolved never again to mingle with those superstitious people. But soon my resolution was broken, and I decided to go as usual, determined at some future time to secrete something and thereby ascertain for my own satisfaction whether the old woman could find me out in it.

One Sunday evening a number of guests had gathered in the pleasant parlors and when I entered were already engaged in various games. The chairs in the room were all occupied and I was told to step into an adjoining room for a chair. As I glanced abont the apartment my eyes rested upon a small purse lying on the bed. Instantly the thought flashed into my mind that now was the opportunity to test the Gentile woman's power; so, taking the purse, I put it in my pocket and returned with a chair to the other room.

I was relieved when we dispersed, for the secret had begun to weigh heavily upon my mind. During the night I could not sleep, so impatient was I to learn whether or not the loss had been discovered. As soon as school was out the following day, I hastened to the home of Mrs. B. Sure enough the purse was missing, but no one could imagine who could have been so unkind as to steal from them. Whoever had taken it must have entered the bedroom, and they were at a loss to know who it could have been. I suggested that it might be well to consult the old woman who had discovered the thief on the former occasion, and I was so eager and anxious to learn what she could do that I offered to go for her. The woman promised to come as soon as she could, though I had begged her to come at once with me.

The time of waiting seemed long, but at last she appeared, her book and key carefully wrapped in a handkerchief, and on her face a grave, solemn look. As soon as possible she arranged the key and book as before. We all stood round about her, and, though I had little faith in her charms, my heart beat fast and my hands trembled violently when one by one the names were mentioned of all who had been present the previous night. Still the book remained perfectly motionless. Then I spoke the name of the girl who had been accused of taking the bank, and immediately the book swung around, not once only but three times. The woman triumphantly held up her book and key, declaring that her heirloom never failed her, and saying, "You can see for yourselves that the girl is a thief. She stole the bank not long since and now is in possession of the purse."

In spite of proof of the girl's innocence, the woman insisted that she was guilty. My friends said they knew she had not taken it, for she had not been in the house since she had left it in disgrace. Calmly I declared that I was positive of her innocence, yet I dared not tell all, as I had thrown away the purse.

Another prevalent superstition was that when an article of clothing had been stolen, the thief could be found by burying a piece of the cloth if any scraps could be found. It was believed that, as soon as the cloth began to decay, being buried in a grave with a corpse, the body of the thief would also decay and death would soon follow. So fully was this believed, and so intense was the fear of the terrible results, that often the mere rumor of resorting to such means was sufficient to insure the return of the stolen property.

At one time clothing was taken from our home and a certain person was suspected, though there was no proof of her guilt. My mother spoke of her intention of burying a piece of the cloth, taking care that this person should hear of it. This threat had the desired effect, for the next day the clothes rolled in a bundle were found on our doorsteps.

Often have I looked back to that time of black superstition and realized the meaning of the words of the prophet, "Behold the darkness shall cover the earth, and gross darkness the people." (Isaiah lx, 2.)

Chapter II

In the face of the existing superstition there was little known about the religion of Christ. The Roman Catholic Church, with her gross idolatry, had full sway, having shrines and images located on the public roads. The Lutheran Church, though without shrines or pictures, also failed to uphold the banner of Jesus Christ. On Sunday morning Catholics and Lutherans could be seen at church. After the services they would freely visit the saloons, many of them becoming drunk; quarrels and disturbances would follow, disgracing the Christian's sacred day. Dance halls were wide open and beer gardens flourished. Jews living in the town had nothing in common with Christians, dealing with them in business affairs only. They enjoyed their own amusements, attended the synagogue, and educated their children in a Hebrew school.

Until of a certain age Jewish children were instructed by a Rabbi in elementary things, and their studies were completed in the public school with Gentile children. My mother dreaded the time when she must send her children to the public school, as she knew what indignities we would suffer at the hand of these children, because of our being Jews, or, as they termed it, "Christ Killers."

My brother and I entered the local school, where

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unfortunately the children were mostly Gentile; and in those first days we were made the targets of their derision and hatred, but patiently we bore the spiteful things said and done. Through hard study and outward serenity we won the favor of our teachers and many friends from among our classmates. Still, what a storm of hatred and bitterness raged in my heart against them and their religion! It seemed to me nothing but a persecution of our people.

The mother of one of my classmates had become a Christian and had joined the Baptist Church, being the only person in our town belonging to this denomination. She became the object of much persecution at the hands of those who claimed to be Christians, because she had left the Lutheran Church. Her daughter and I became close friends, as did also our brothers. We often went to their home where they had a large playground and a fine fruit orchard. There we studied our lessons, afterwards enjoying play and fun.

The mother, Mrs. Deike, often joined us and we grew to love her very dearly. She was indeed a Christian whose life was fully consecrated to the Lord. As we became better acquainted, she began in a simple, loving way to tell us of Jesus, the promised Messiah, the King of the Jews. It was a sweet story and new to us. We listened eagerly as she spoke of Him who had come as the fulfillment of all the Old Testament prophecies in which our people believed. Up to this time we had not known the difference between Eoman Catholics, Lutherans or Baptists. All to us were alike. All were idolaters. The followers of Jesus, no matter what their name, we classed as heathen whose chief object in life was the persecution of the Jews. Our people had received no love or sympathy from these so-called Christians; and now, for the first time, we heard that Jesus came to save the Jews and not to persecute them.

We were very fond of Mrs. Deike and loved to listen to her, but this was all so strange that we could not believe it. I was not given to argument, but my brother, who was two years my senior, argued much with her, telling her that it was impossible for Jesus to be the Son of God, the Saviour of mankind. But she was not discouraged and patiently she tried in every way to convince us of the divinity of Christ. Finally my brother told her that our religion was far superior to hers ; quietly she replied that she read the same Bible and that it was her only guide. But to this he invariably replied, "O yes, your Bible is so constructed that the Old may fit the new Testament, and the New the Old."

At last, however, he was persuaded to get a Hebrew Bible with German translation from the Rabbi, so that they might compare Bibles. My brother brought his book to Mrs. Deike and a most diligent comparison began. The Bibles were found to be in everything the same, and my brother became intensely interested and began to study the Word of God. He came to the 53d of Isaiah, and read of the Messiah :

"He is despised and rejected of men ; a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief; and we hid as it were our faces from Him ; He was despised and we esteemed Him not."

"Surely He hath borne our griefs and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem Him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.

"But He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon Him; and with His stripes we are healed."

He stopped and asked, "What does this mean? Who is it? Who has borne our griefs? Who was wounded for our transgressions?"

"It is Jesus of Nazaareth whom you hate and despise," was Mrs. Deike's reply.

Prom that moment my brother began to see the light in Christ Jesus, and he accepted Him as his personal Saviour. He was then not quite thirteen years old, and he told no one of the family of his new-found faith. The time for his confirmation (or Bar Mitzwah) was at hand, when he was to become a son of the law, and he went through the ceremonies, although in secret he was a Christian.

Not long after this he was apprenticed to a Jewish merchant who had a large iron business in a town about forty-eight miles from home. He was a very strict orthodox Jew. It was agreed that my brother should remain there for three years. After his departure I continued to visit the Deike family, but they soon moved into the country on a farm about twelve miles from town. The friendly ties were severed, and the teachings of that saintly woman completely forgotten for a time, as no lasting impression had been made on my heart. Two years swiftly passed by, during which I was occupied with my studies. Then my brother returned home for a visit. It was a red-letter day with our family, and as he was my favorite brother we spent much time together during these happy vacation days. He had been at home a week when one day I met Mrs. Deike and told her of his arrival. She was pleased and readily accepted my invitation for her to call. I thought my brother would be especially pleased to see her, but I was sadly disappointed; for, as soon as he saw us approaching he immediately left the room, I wondered at this action because he had been greatly attached to her. My parents were very glad to see her and after a time my brother was persuaded to come in. He spoke to her, but all could see that his welcome was far from being hearty.

Mrs. Deike told us of her beautiful home in the country and how much they all enjoyed being there. I was intensely interested, for I had never been in the country and I expressed a desire to see it. Thereupon she invited my brother and myself to spend a few days with her, promising to send a team for us if we would appoint a day. Our parents objected to the visit and made many excuses for not letting us go, but she finally persuaded them, and they consented to let us go for a day or two, providing she would give us nothing to eat which was not allowed by our religion. She promised not to give us anything but eggs, bread, butter and milk. In order that there should be no possibility of defilement, Mrs. Deike advised us to carry with us a little kettle in which to boil the eggs and milk for our use.

I was full of joy at the prospect of a visit to the country, but my brother was not so enthusiastic. Indeed, he had promised to go merely to gratify me. At last the eventful day dawned, a bright, beautiful spring day. We started early in the morning, walking through the woods, listening to the happy song of birds. We had planned to meet Mr. Deike, but he had forgotten to send the team for us, thinking we were to come another day. We walked on watching for the team, but none appeared.

It seemed a long distance those twelve miles, but we walked bravely on, talking as we went, for we had much to say to each other after our long separation. Toward the end of our walk we became tired and often sat down by the wayside. After going through the eight miles of forest and while going through the fields with but two more miles before us, my brother suddenly stopped and said, "Don't let us go on ; let us turn back and go home."

I was much surprised at this remark and wondered what had come over him, but I said that we had better hasten on. We did so, but soon were obliged to sit down again to rest. Sitting with our hands clasped in each others, he tried to persuade me not to go on, but to give up the trip, assuring me with tears in his eyes that it was wrong for Jews to mingle with Gentiles, or to' have any intercourse with them. "We shall surely come to grief," he said, "if we proceed on our journey and venture into danger."

But I would not listen to him, being determined to see the farm, and I felt too weary to walk back those long miles. I fully agreed with him that we should not associate too freely with the Gentiles, but could see no harm in making a short visit in a Gentile home. I insisted that since we had gone so far we ought not to turn back, and although very tired I went on and he was compelled to follow. His face looked grave and troubled. For the last time he begged me to turn back, but I would not, and only laughed at him.