Sheila Fried just reminded me of something my mother had a habit of doing---she'd collect new and almost new clothes and toys from assorted sources but mostly probably from her sisters and brothers and store them behind the big red leather bar in our basement on Nelson Ave in Montreal. When the stuff began to spill out into the main section of the room, Mama would fold the clothes neatly and then pack them into new {I've no idea where she acquired them} flour sacks, sew the tops up securely, address them with a permanent magic marker and send them off to Romania and/or to Israel.

For years I thought that that's what basement bars were for and for years I assumed that all mothers did that sort of thing. Years later, sometime in the 1970's, Mama came to Israel with us and we attended the wedding of Shimshon Gottlieb's nephew [Shimshon was a Dalfen cousin who apparently grew up with the Radautz crowd who subsquently moved to Uruguay and became the Consul-General to Israel from Uruguay].

We were sitting at our table enjoying our reminiscing with assorted relatives when all of a sudden we heard a commotion nearby and a tall man in his 40's surrounded by a few others came up to our table and wanted to know who "Maitshiu" was. Mama paled somewhat at the ruckus but answered to her nickname and stood up. The gentleman excitedly came around to her seat, put his arms around her and hugged her and kissed her. He introduced himself as Shaul Gottlieb and explained that when he and his family were in Romania, during and after the war, struggling to sustain themselves and to keep their heads above water, every now and then, and always at the right time, a huge package would arrive from "Maitshiu" in Canada bringing wonderful presents for the whole family. He was a young boy then and had no idea who "Maitshiu" was except that she was his guardian angel who sent Chanuka presents all year round. And now at this wedding, he suddenly heard whisperings that "Maitshiu" was a real person who was actually at this very wedding and he got very excited and had to come meet her. Wow!!!

I have to add that after we moved out of Nelson and the "care" packages were no longer feasible, Mama would collect money from her brothers and sisters and send sizeable checks to those relatives in Haifa who were struggling to make ends meet. I remember when I was spending a year in Israel as a student after High School, Mama asked me to visit a family named Miller in Yerushalayim who had appealed to her for a donation. She wrote that apparently the family had triplets who all slept in the same crib because of their poverty and she wanted me to deliver a cheque to them in person. I located them and when I visited, asked to see the triplets ----I was introduced to 3 twelve year olds who , T.G., were already sleeping in regular beds----. When I related this fact to Mama, she searched for the original appeal letter to check the date but couldn't find it.

Another time, she sent me $1000 and asked me to match it and mail the 2 checks to a relative who needed extensive dental work done and couldn't afford it. Reb Menachem Mendel Dalfen's children learned how to give on their Tatteh's knee. Another incident that I remember my mother telling me about was how at one point in her childhood, the family was quite poor and for that reason only one child would be able to get a new outfit for the coming yom tov. When it was Mama's turn, she would get all excited when she would see another coin being deposited in her "Yomtov outfit pushke" especially as she watched it getting heavier and heavier as yomtov neared.

Then one day a poor Jew came to the door and spoke at length to her Tatteh [our Zaide Mendel] who then went to the pushke and emptied the contents into the man's pocket. Mama cried out in shock and asked why? that money was reserved for her--how could he give it away? Zaide sat her down and explained that yes, it was reserved for her new outfit but then asked her what was more important, a new dress or food on the table for hungry children? Mama and her siblings learned that lesson well.