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Today we see an early letter from Helene in Vienna to her son Harry in San Francisco. Harry will be 16 on his next birthday in January.
Vienna, 29 December 1939
My dearest Harry Boy!
Jo must be even more of an optimist than I am because she added birthday wishes for you to the community letter, assuming that the letter will actually reach you in time. I am a little skeptical on this point, because I haven’t heard from any source that you had received even one of those sent to you. Even if that were the case, I hope you have a cheerful and happy birthday – the first one you spend as a foreigner. Foreigner? No, you’re not a foreigner! Incredibly kind people look after you and since Eva and Paul, who are always there for birthday parties, will certainly spend part of the day with you, you won’t have time to be sentimental. And you shouldn't be. Believe me, we are there in spirit. I am very worried about you, which you will understand and therefore I am glad there is someone there with you. Harry, my sweet boy, be happy and don’t worry about us – it really isn’t necessary. It would be a shame to waste your time that way. Little Eva spent her birthday away from home last year, but at that time there was the likelihood we would meet soon afterwards, which is not so much the case this time. When we do see each other, the joy will be just that much greater. When I’ve gotten the first of your letters and have a picture of what you’re doing and how you’re living, it’ll be so much easier.
The winter is starting to be like the winter of 1928-29, but it cannot harm us, because: “And no matter how much the wind growls, the grim gestures, etc.” Yes, it must be spring soon! The days already are beginning to get longer even though we don't even notice it. But it doesn't change the world order which it has been for thousands of years. The fact that I look forward to spring is like my childhood and I am starting to act childish. No, it is not childish to be happy that you won’t have to walk around with red ears and blue noses. Other memories of winter joys are currently only in memory and in the future, and I prefer the eternal spring.
My Christmas wishes were not fulfilled. I didn't get any letters from you and I must content myself that they are on their way. I am getting philosophical here.
What do you think about the terrible earthquake in Anatolia? I am quite worried about the consequences of this catastrophe, because Casablanca and Los Angeles are on the same meridian. I would be happy if this catastrophic year were over – thank God it is coming to an end.
My dear boy, please tell all our dear relatives that I think about them with gratitude. Gratitude! A poor word to describe what I’m feeling today, but that's what I’ve got.
I wrote to Tillie, Bertha, Hilda and Nathan as well as I could in English. Whether they received my letters is another matter. They wouldn’t have lost much if they didn’t get them.
So don’t worry, I’m not going to make any helpful suggestions. My far-flung children can certainly figure out that I wish them to have happiness not only on their birthday but in their whole life because happiness is an elixir for life. Let’s get rid of all sad thoughts.
I kiss you so much that I can barely breathe and I am happy.
Your Mutti
Helene & Vitali-baba
Helene is sad to be separated for the first time from her son on his birthday. Eva and Harry were in Istanbul for for her 18th birthday in May 1939, so that they could get passports to come to San Francisco. In that case, Helene knew they would see each other soon. By December 1939, Helene had no idea what the future held.
We learn about the physical world of late 1939. According to a website discussing the weather in 2021, the winter of 1928-1929 was one of the coldest winters in Europe in the last century. As Helene reported, the winter of 1939-1940 was also bitterly cold. According to Wikipedia, the earthquake Helene mentions was the worst to hit Turkey since 1688.
Despite her sadness at being separated from her children, Helene tries to include a note of hope, misquoting lines from a poem of that name. Here is the Google Translate version of the original poem by Emmanuel Geibel:
Hope
“And no matter how much winter is looming
With defiant gestures
And if he scatters ice and snow about
It must be spring then.
And no matter how dense the mists are
Before the gaze of the sun
It wakes you with its light
Once the world to bliss.
Just blow you storms, blow with power
I shouldn't worry about it
On quiet feet overnight
The spring is coming.
Then the earth wakes up green
Don't know how you happened
And laughs up at the sunny sky
And would like to pass with pleasure.
She weaves blooming wreaths in her hair
And adorns himself with roses and ears of wheat,
And lets the little fountains trickle clear
As if they were feeding joy.
So be quiet! And how it may freeze
O heart, be satisfied;
It is a great May day
Given to the whole world.
And if you often fear and dread,
As if hell were on earth,
Trust in God without hesitation!
It must be spring then.”
For perhaps the only time, Vitali signs his name to a letter, as well as the word “baba” - “Father” in Turkish.