rainbowtrout
Ideal_Rock
- Joined
- Dec 2, 2005
- Messages
- 2,105
We are putting this in our programs, but I thought in honor of all the stressed out girls on here lately, this is FI's grandmother and late grandfather's wedding story, in her own words. She is too ill to come to the wedding, so we taped it and re-typed it as a piece of family history. She was so chilled out about it all, I love it:
"I left the kibbutz and I was three weeks in Haifa when I met a guy from my former kibbutz, and I wanted to write down his phone number but I didn't have a pen. So I asked the next person in line if he had a pencil. He gave me this tiny little bit of a pencil, barely enough to put your hand on. I took down his number. After the movie, the guy comes back and he stands next to me and he says, "You have my pencil." I gave it back and he asked me if he could walk me home. In Haifa, everyone was your chavair, your friend, so I said, "OK." I went out with him a couple of times. He shared a room in a hotel with Eric, because there was no way to get an apartment when Eric came back from his time in Eritrea. Eric said, "Take me along," once. It only took once; that cut the other guy right out. That's how we met.
I was divorced in Haifa, so they had my divorce papers on record there. In E's name, Katzenstein, the first two letters mean Cohein Sadik. The rabbis didn't want to marry us, a Cohein to a divorcee. So we went on a trip, to find a rabbi to marry us. Every rabbi smelled a rat, that we were from the city but wanted to get married in the country. After a few days of this, E. decided we should go to the kibbutz he used to live on and ask for his papers. They gave them to us, with a stamp and letterhead and we brought it to the rabbi in the next town. The rebbetzin asked us if I had been in a mikveh. I hadn't but I said "yes" anyway. We needed two signatures from people in town. So we went to the hospital. Two doctors who didn't know us signed, because Eric had to go into the Army. Only he didn't have to go into the Army. I'm telling you, I never lied so much in my life as in that week we got married. So he said ok, he'll marry us in a week. So we said, we don't have time, he has to go the British Army and they'll pay for a wife, but not for a girlfriend. That he understood. He said, come back this evening and I'll marry you.
That day, a British soldier was murdered. There was curfew. Shoot on sight. Well, we collected a minyan and cut across a big field from the kibbutz to the town. When we finally got there, he says, "Now you come? I sent my assistant home already."
Then the rabbi's wife asked me if I had a veil. I didn't have a veil, but she found a bit of silk gauze or something. For food, we had a bag of peanuts, and some oranges, and bottle of wine. End of wedding. And I think everyone should get married like that. We lasted 61 years. Believe me, the one day of the wedding, is the least of the excitement. E. was a very decent guy. They don't make them like that any more. "
"I left the kibbutz and I was three weeks in Haifa when I met a guy from my former kibbutz, and I wanted to write down his phone number but I didn't have a pen. So I asked the next person in line if he had a pencil. He gave me this tiny little bit of a pencil, barely enough to put your hand on. I took down his number. After the movie, the guy comes back and he stands next to me and he says, "You have my pencil." I gave it back and he asked me if he could walk me home. In Haifa, everyone was your chavair, your friend, so I said, "OK." I went out with him a couple of times. He shared a room in a hotel with Eric, because there was no way to get an apartment when Eric came back from his time in Eritrea. Eric said, "Take me along," once. It only took once; that cut the other guy right out. That's how we met.
I was divorced in Haifa, so they had my divorce papers on record there. In E's name, Katzenstein, the first two letters mean Cohein Sadik. The rabbis didn't want to marry us, a Cohein to a divorcee. So we went on a trip, to find a rabbi to marry us. Every rabbi smelled a rat, that we were from the city but wanted to get married in the country. After a few days of this, E. decided we should go to the kibbutz he used to live on and ask for his papers. They gave them to us, with a stamp and letterhead and we brought it to the rabbi in the next town. The rebbetzin asked us if I had been in a mikveh. I hadn't but I said "yes" anyway. We needed two signatures from people in town. So we went to the hospital. Two doctors who didn't know us signed, because Eric had to go into the Army. Only he didn't have to go into the Army. I'm telling you, I never lied so much in my life as in that week we got married. So he said ok, he'll marry us in a week. So we said, we don't have time, he has to go the British Army and they'll pay for a wife, but not for a girlfriend. That he understood. He said, come back this evening and I'll marry you.
That day, a British soldier was murdered. There was curfew. Shoot on sight. Well, we collected a minyan and cut across a big field from the kibbutz to the town. When we finally got there, he says, "Now you come? I sent my assistant home already."
Then the rabbi's wife asked me if I had a veil. I didn't have a veil, but she found a bit of silk gauze or something. For food, we had a bag of peanuts, and some oranges, and bottle of wine. End of wedding. And I think everyone should get married like that. We lasted 61 years. Believe me, the one day of the wedding, is the least of the excitement. E. was a very decent guy. They don't make them like that any more. "
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