Jerusalem Gives
THE Week of Redemption. Jerusalem is to give its offering, to arise from its dust and bring sacrifice once more. Jerusalem the whole world's center: the center towards which all alms have poured, the center of dependency, of beggary, the despair of the present, the mockery of the past, the hope of the future; Jerusalem that has always received, that has never received enough, that is eternally poor. And now Jerusalem is giving. The order is reversed, the past is past, and a new day has begun.
The Redemption is here. We know it, everyone of us. Ussischkin knows it, as he sits in his office; the workman at Hulda knows it, as he reaps his field; the old Ashkenazic Jew knows it at the Wailing Wall, the Yemenite Jew know it, and even the English Tommy is not unaware of it. Promises are promises and facts are facts. A Jewish Governor is coming. World Jewry looks toward us. For a week and more the Fund of Redemption has been growing outside of Jerusalem. Tel Aviv, the wealthy and modern, has collected a pretty sum. But that is no example. Who ever expected Jerusalem to give?
But who ever expected Redemption? Who is not still wondering and dazed at the great things that are come to pass?
In New York funds have been collected amid enthusiasm, jewels have been given, workmen, even the poorest, have dedicated a day's wages to the Jewish people. In Jerusalem the clerk's organization set a standard by taxing themselves a month's wages, each man and woman of them, for the Fund of Redemption. The clerks are the best paid workers in Jerusalem. That is saying little. The teachers, living upon a starvation wage, taxed themselves about half a month's salary.
The week began with a festival in the Cinema Theatre, arranged by the clerks' organization. Every ticket was sold. The hall was crowded, at a high price too; the walls were decorated, hung with rugs, with large posters and placards, and all was free-will offering, the place, the service, the performers. The Music School of Jaffa had sent up its orchestra, young boys and girls that played pleasantly. There was a piano soloist, there was a recitation from Bialik, a song of Tchernilovsky. The first encore had to be bought with a couple of pounds. Dr. Solomon Shiller had made the opening speech. When Dr. Ben Zion Mossinsohn was asked to make a speech, that, too, had to be bought, and Ussischkin paid a high price for it. Gifts of money began. Then a woman in a front row held up a costly fur scarf, which was carried to the platform. In a moment hands went up in all parts of the hall, and a stream of jewels, watches, chains, pins, rings, began flowing to the platform. They were not the jewels of the wealthy; there were no great diamonds, no strings of pearls. The enthusiasm of giving grew. Men took watches from their wrists. Others gave silver cigarette cases, one an old precious Bible bound in silver. A joker took the pipe, his constant companion, from an old and beloved physician, and held it up for auction. It brought forty or fifty pounds before it was redeemed for its owner. Then some one seized Ussischkin's hat—he was sitting in the front row—and
that too was redeemed at a high price. Now sums began to be volunteered in honor of our leaders; Weizmann, Sokolow, Jabotinsky were not forgotten. A more solemn mood fell over the assembly as the dead were fittingly remembered. We rose to honor the names of martyrs of the past and present, Dr. Herzl, Trumpeldor, who fell in Galilee, Aramati, who fell in the riots of Passover, Aaron Aaronsohn,
The editor of the daily paper, Doar Hayom, offered a hundred pounds in the name of the paper. Immediately the other daily, Ha-Arez, was called upon by the crowd to make a contribution. Its editor was not present. So its friends arose and made offerings in its name. A picture of Jabotinsky, the popular hero and martyr of the moment, was put up for auction. After a hard tussle between the representatives of the Sephardic community and of the Maccabees, the Maccabees came out victorious. At two o'clock in the morning the crowd dispersed; and the meeting had netted fourteen hundred pounds for the Fund of Redemption.
. The next day committees went about from neighborhood- to neighborhood collecting the offerings of the people. In the evening another concert took place at the Cinema, at which Chaikoff and Miss Bentwich played; a good concert and a crowded audience. Again there were free-will offerings. But this time something new and wonderful happened. During the day the Yemenite Jews of the village in Siloah had made their offering of sheep and goats and chickens. These they had brought to the meeting, and they now mounted the platform, the shepherds and their gifts. They came in their simple oriental costume, with long earlocks and long girdled gowns and bare feet. Surprised and somewhat dazed they faced the audience, as surprised and dazed as their animals. A goat stood on the piano; a little lamb on the table. It all seemed too dignified and archaic for the rather tawdry and prosaic setting. Only a temple is fit to receive such gifts. But has not the Redemption come?
Every neighborhood of Jerusalem had its Redemption gatherings. While the concert was taking place at the Cinema, another meeting was being held in Meah Shearim. A Sefer Torah was being completed, amid songs and dances, and as is the custom, each person writing a letter had to pay high for the privilege. The money went to the Fund of Redemption, and when the Sefer Torah was carried to the Synagogue among more songs and joyous Hasidic dancing, there were still other free-will offerings.
There is a riot and rivalry of giving. School children bring not only their pennies to school, but their toys and trinkets. One little girl in kindergarten solemnly handed her teacher a ring from her finger, as she had seen her mother do. The ring was made of tin. Children begged their parents for money to take to school, a rather demoralizing method that put some teachers on their guard. In the Tachkemoni School the teachers decided to take nothing from the children except what was their very own. So the children brought their treasures; one boy brought a pencil case, another a brood of little chickens that he himself had raised. The Teachers bought these gifts from the children and gave the money to the Fund.
The poorest of poor Jews brought a shilling, two shillings,