First Love

One bright sunny day during summer vacation - a day during which one should be happy just to be alive and enjoy it - I was bored and looking for something to do with my free time. Which one of my friends should I visit? Just then, my brother Sanyi asked me to walk with him to his friend John Yitzchak. I agreed, not realizing that a lifetime influence was ahead of me.

They lived close by, and we arrived after a ten-minute walk. Another friend was already there, and we barely said hello before he invited us all over to his house to play. John Yitzchak asked his mother's permission. His mother, a tall, heavy woman, sat on a chair. She agreed, and instructed him to behave take care of himself. John Yitzchak faced his mother [Zichala], listened to her with awe and reverence - his eyes gleaming with love, his face beaming with kindness. "Yes mother", he answered. Never before had I seen a child act with such kindness and devotion to his parent. I, too, revered my parents and loved them deeply, but this boy's kind soul left me totally speechless and rooted to the floor. I fell in love with him that very day!

The friend's house was two long streets away. From the first street, Bockskay Street, we were to take a right turn to Rakoczi Street. Walking with the three boys, the sense of amazement at this boy's behavior continued to occupy my thoughts. I began to scrutinize his face, an earnest brownish-red, kind, good-looking face. Then I continued to scrutinize him. He had a slim build, so I thought not only does he have a kind soul, but he is also a good-looking, slim boy. That appealed to me very much. I fell in love with him then and there on Bockskay Street, as we passed the city's fire station. My first childhood love at the age of eleven!

I was almost in a dream, feeling wonderful love toward this newfound "object". Suddenly, the other friend, D. Y., looked at me and asked why they needed a girl to come play with them. I was so embarrassed that I wanted the earth to open its mouth and swallow me. A moment of grave silence followed, with nobody saying a word. Then my newly discovered love said, "oh yes, she is coming with us". D. Y. looked like he had just come out of an ice-cold shower. The four of us continued on our way, but this incident left its sour effect on me. I could not overcome this sense of shame whenever I saw D. Y., or even heard his name. Whenever my brother Sanyi asked me to visit John Yitzchak with him I did so gladly, but only if he promised that D. Y. would not be there too. Years later, when this childhood dream of love was about to bloom, this friend's behavior put an end to our beautiful relationship.

Ever since that day, I began to weave my dreams around him. One day I even asked Sanyi how old John Yitzchak was. When he told me that he was only one year older than me I became very disappointed - with my childish thoughts I figured out that a man should be at least two years older than the woman he marries. But then I asked my parents how old they were and figured out there was only a one-year difference. I found my parents' marriage ideal, so that gave me hope for the future.

Now the only question was if he would also choose me when we came of age. With my dreamy, childish thinking, I solved that problem too. I thought about all the Jewish girls around that age, and came to the conclusion that no one else's social standing would befit him. He would have no choice but to marry me! That gave me the full right to dream and hope, so my feeling of deep love towards him just grew.

Sometime in the muddy Puspokladany winter, before he finished sixth grade, John Yitzchak's beloved mother passed away. I went to her funeral with my mother, and also to console the family a few days later. I can still remember his sad, earnest face. I very much shared his pain, but was too shy to even exchange a few words with him.

He returned to school after the week of mourning passed, still very sad, and assumed the rear bench at the right side of our classroom. When our very strict teacher called his name, I turned back and looked at them. Luckily, our teacher did not see me, as I sat at the front bench at the right side of the room. I was very concerned that our teacher might not speak nicely to John Yitzchak, and turned back only when I was satisfied with my teacher's humane behavior towards my chosen secret friend. It may sound strange, but our teacher had a tough personality. This arrogant creature enjoyed mocking and hitting his pupils, so I had to check his behavior.

When he turned twelve and finished sixth grade, John Yitzchak left Puspokladany to learn a trade by apprenticeship.

© David Muskal, 2001