Read Online Illusions of Love by Cynthia Freeman - Free Book Online
Authors: Cynthia Freeman
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discussing the testaments, each one arguing the fine points of the Talmud and each thinking the other an idiot. They too seemed completely oblivious of their ugly surroundings. They were absorbed by their discussion, and more intensely alive than any of the rich old men who attended his temple in San Francisco. Martin was suddenly jealous of a heritage he felt he’d been denied. These were his people, and for all their poverty they
seemed to embody the persistent strength that had ensured Jewish survival through centuries of persecution. These were the chosen people.
Suddenly, being Jewish without that spiritual force left Martin with a sense of being suspended in limbo. He again envied Dominic his simple faith.
Martin couldn’t handle this new flood of emotion. He had to get away.
As he hurried towards the bus, he almost stumbled over a little boy sitting on the kerb crying. The child looked so frail that Martin’s heart went out to him. He sat down on the kerb alongside the child.
“What’s wrong?”
The child looked wide-eyed at the stranger.
“I lost my ball.”
Taking out his handkerchief, Martin handed it to the child.
“Where did you lose it?”
“In the street. A guy picked it up and won’t give it back.”
“How old are you?”
“Five.”
“Five? I thought you were at least six.”
“No, my brother Benny is six.”
“And what’s your name?”
Jeremy Cohen
“That’s a nice name. How about an ice cream, Jeremy?”
The little boy shrugged his shoulders, “Okay,” he answered, although he would have been happier to have been offered a new ball.
Martin took him by the hand and bought him a cone. Forgetting his loss for the moment, Jeremy smiled. Martin observed the child’s tattered clothes and the hole in his left tennis shoe where his large toe stuck out. It was all an accident of birth, wasn’t it? Like being born a Rockefeller, the Queen of England . or himself. Martin took a five dollar bill from his wallet. As he handed it to the child he wondered if his gesture was born out of charity or guilt. Perhaps it was one and the same. He wasn’t sure.
“I want you to buy a ball, Jeremy, and a pair of shoes. But put the money away until you get home to your mama.”
Jeremy was so intent on the five-dollar bill he didn’t notice when Martin got up and walked to the bus.
Chapter Five
Martin’s experience on the Lower East Side stayed with him for a long time. It left him with a greater drive to succeed. Professor Wheeler and his likes could no longer terrorize him. He had been born into privilege and given opportunities, and by God he was going to take advantage of them. There was no way he could fail. Perhaps a bit of Dominic’s determination had rubbed off. But more important than his academic commitment was his decision to devote his free time to the Jewish Home for Children. Originally it was an orphanage, but now it had become a haven for the poor. The Home offered after-school classes, Hebrew instruction, and other activities for children whose mothers worked and who had nowhere to go except roam wild.
In the beginning the kids’ resentment made it almost impossible for Martin to reach them. But his persistence won over first the teachers and then the children themselves. Their eventual admiration brought a joy to his life no monetary achievement could ever equal. The sound of their laughter as he coached their baseball team and their cheers the day he brought over the ‘anonymously’ donated uniforms he had purchased himself completely overshadowed any lingering loneliness Martin felt at the dorm or in some of his classes.
Life had become a constantly changing kaleidoscope. Martin’s experience working at the Home had been only one of the many things that had caused his transformation. Dominic had taught him a great deal about himself. He
realized he’d been overprotected and overindulged. Perhaps it had not been a deliberate attempt on Dominic’s part to
seemed to embody the persistent strength that had ensured Jewish survival through centuries of persecution. These were the chosen people.
Suddenly, being Jewish without that spiritual force left Martin with a sense of being suspended in limbo. He again envied Dominic his simple faith.
Martin couldn’t handle this new flood of emotion. He had to get away.
As he hurried towards the bus, he almost stumbled over a little boy sitting on the kerb crying. The child looked so frail that Martin’s heart went out to him. He sat down on the kerb alongside the child.
“What’s wrong?”
The child looked wide-eyed at the stranger.
“I lost my ball.”
Taking out his handkerchief, Martin handed it to the child.
“Where did you lose it?”
“In the street. A guy picked it up and won’t give it back.”
“How old are you?”
“Five.”
“Five? I thought you were at least six.”
“No, my brother Benny is six.”
“And what’s your name?”
Jeremy Cohen
“That’s a nice name. How about an ice cream, Jeremy?”
The little boy shrugged his shoulders, “Okay,” he answered, although he would have been happier to have been offered a new ball.
Martin took him by the hand and bought him a cone. Forgetting his loss for the moment, Jeremy smiled. Martin observed the child’s tattered clothes and the hole in his left tennis shoe where his large toe stuck out. It was all an accident of birth, wasn’t it? Like being born a Rockefeller, the Queen of England . or himself. Martin took a five dollar bill from his wallet. As he handed it to the child he wondered if his gesture was born out of charity or guilt. Perhaps it was one and the same. He wasn’t sure.
“I want you to buy a ball, Jeremy, and a pair of shoes. But put the money away until you get home to your mama.”
Jeremy was so intent on the five-dollar bill he didn’t notice when Martin got up and walked to the bus.
Chapter Five
Martin’s experience on the Lower East Side stayed with him for a long time. It left him with a greater drive to succeed. Professor Wheeler and his likes could no longer terrorize him. He had been born into privilege and given opportunities, and by God he was going to take advantage of them. There was no way he could fail. Perhaps a bit of Dominic’s determination had rubbed off. But more important than his academic commitment was his decision to devote his free time to the Jewish Home for Children. Originally it was an orphanage, but now it had become a haven for the poor. The Home offered after-school classes, Hebrew instruction, and other activities for children whose mothers worked and who had nowhere to go except roam wild.
In the beginning the kids’ resentment made it almost impossible for Martin to reach them. But his persistence won over first the teachers and then the children themselves. Their eventual admiration brought a joy to his life no monetary achievement could ever equal. The sound of their laughter as he coached their baseball team and their cheers the day he brought over the ‘anonymously’ donated uniforms he had purchased himself completely overshadowed any lingering loneliness Martin felt at the dorm or in some of his classes.
Life had become a constantly changing kaleidoscope. Martin’s experience working at the Home had been only one of the many things that had caused his transformation. Dominic had taught him a great deal about himself. He
realized he’d been overprotected and overindulged. Perhaps it had not been a deliberate attempt on Dominic’s part to
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