Pertinent and Impertinent

You probably know the story about Jane Smith, college graduate. It has been quoted in many books, related at even more commencement exercises, but it is so good that it bears retelling. Jane Smith, then, comes and knocks at the door of Life. Life calls out: “Who’s there?” Jane answers: “Jane Smith, B. A.” “All right,” says Life, “step right in Jane, and I’ll teach you the rest of the alphabet.”

Life teaches all of us the rest of alphabet, and in a measure it depends upon our willingness to learn, whether the process is more or less pleasant. Sometimes Life takes an entire group of pupils and submits them to a special grind in certain letters, and if they are wise they will learn their lesson as quickly as possible in order to go on to more enjoyable subjects.

Jews all over the world now seem engaged in learning anew the meaning of C and E—Courage and Endurance, and bitter as the lesson often is, the unbiased observer must concede that the pupils are doing rather nicely and show great aptitude despite considerable handicaps. European Jewish women especially have proven again and again during the last few years that they have learned a good deal in the school of Life, and we hear more than one story on how maids and matrons brought up in comfort if not in luxury, looking forward to interesting activities in the liberal professions, the arts, or society have quietly accepted conditions and occupations that a short time ago would have seemed to them intolerable.

Perhaps one of the most touching of these stories is the one I heard last week from a Boston friend. She had a young relative in Germany, a beautiful and singularly gifted girl, the only daughter of a well-to-do widower. This young woman studied natural sciences at the University of Marburg, and as she has great artistic ability in addition to her scientific knowledge she helped one of the instructors to draw illustrations for a forthcoming book on ornithology. Both were interested, eager, young, and so it was but natural that they should fall in love, despite the difference of their faiths, a difference which seemed to them merely superflicial as their true belief was Science, their real religious Research Work.

Then came the Hitler regime, and our gifted young woman not only had to give up her studies and her university career, but she was also made to understand that she had to break her engagement if her fiance was not to lose his position. Then, after having suffered all this, she had in addition to face financial debacle. Her father, a trial lawyer of recognized standing, could no longer pursue his profession. Having always lived up to his income and unable to earn any more, his daughter stood practically penniless and alone in the world when he suddenly died of a heart ailment.

But, as I said before, Jewish women have learned Courage and Endurance, and our young friend quickly proved that she had mastered her lesson. She has entered a farm community in Hungary, laboring in the fields and the kitchen, the stable and the barn, in order to fit herself for an eventual life in Palestine. She refuses to be pitied and declares gaily that, being healthy and strong, she has much to be grateful for. Such spirit is surely invincible and we may be certain that Life, the strict mistress, will permit this good and clever pupil to go on to further letters in the alphabet, letting her linger on H for Hope, showing her in the future L for Love—a new and more steadfast love than the one she lost—and guiding her finally to V for Victory: a practical as well as an ideal victory, a victory that will bring her material and spiritual rewards.

And if you, dear reader, feel sometimes that one of Life’s lesson is hard to master, think of this young German-Jewish girl and take up your work with the same splendid spirit.