A lifetime ago Abe had laughed at his Bubbe and his parents as they’d eagerly pored over the Rosh Hashanah cards that flooded their mailbox every September; embossed greetings from elderly relatives business acquaintances and the neighbors next door (“You see them every day Bubbe it’s so silly”; “Abie you just don’t understand”).
Well now he understood the power of a greeting a blessing before a new year. As he prepared to leave England once again to return to the field of battle he’d left two months before he read and reread the letters he’d received these past few days right before the new year was to begin. His mother’s tearful admonitions to stay safe in this coming year; his father’s words of pride at his son’s Bronze Star awarded to Lieutenant Levine for taking out a full German battery on D-Day plus 2; his Bubbe’s jokes that hardly camouflaged her anxiety over her only grandchild; and of course Annie’s daily letters full of the new words Mutty had started to say with her love and concern only coming through in the last few sentences of each letter: they were sweeter than the honey cake his Bubbe used to bake than the carrot tzimmes Mrs. Horn had served on the one Rosh Hashanah he’d gotten to spend with his wife.
What intrigued him most though was the postscript on Annie’s letter the very first time he’d gotten more than simple regards from his father-in-law.
My dear Abe I hope this finds you well. With the Yamim Noraim approaching I will take this opportunity to wish you a year of safety and peace and health. Your wife — my daughter — is doing a wonderful job with little Mutty and the two yesomim and I am very proud of her. Look after yourself — we are very proud of you too. May HaKadosh Baruch Hu bring you back soon safely to the family who awaits your arrival every day. Kesivah v’chasimah tovah Yeruchum Freed.
