Friday, 17 February 2012
My Brother Goes Shopping
My brother had to get some boots made. Shoemakers are few and far between in modern day Sydney, but he found a little shop in Surry Hills where two old men were still plying their trade (although, sadly, they haven't managed to find apprentices to carry on their craft). While they measured him up, they told my brother their story. It is a great listen.
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What a terrific story. It brought back memories of little Jewish refugees, girls wwho spoke no English, sitting in our classroom crying. I was eight years old at the time and couldn't understand why they were there but the following year the War broke out and, being that bit older and a precocious reader, I pieced their story together. I lived among the Jews in Leeds and couldn't help taking the whole thing to heart.
ReplyDeleteThey were sad times. War is obscene.
The image of those little girls crying is so touching. I hope they eventually settled in a bit.
DeleteYes, a poignant story. Our next-door neighbour is also a (helf-)Jewish shoemaker, a good one, and a reminder of why people not wholly accepted have often had to become that extra bit more professional and skilled in their trades in order to try to gain acceptance.
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