Dear Sala, Just now, I’m writing from the post office. My heart is bleeding, because we didn’t send you matzo for Passover. Oh God! Can you believe this? It’s erev yom tov [the night before the holiday], and there are no matzos, no . . . . nothing. Again, the same thing, do I have to defend myself again? Enough. I can tell you, we’re more than happy because you are not with us today. You wouldn’t be as bothered anyway: nothing pulls you down as easily as it does us. It looks like Yom Kippur at night here, the candles are lit, the tablecloth is on the table. I’d much rather not write you all that much, just let me say, be happy, happy, merry and gay. Laugh as much as you can. For we do the same here at home. I even wrote you a letter, but Father, may he live long, didn’t allow me to send it. I’m sure all of you there are laughing not knowing what to do and, I’m sure, you’re crying too. May it be for the best, keep on laughing. Sala, remember, don’t worry about us. Have a good time. We don’t know anything about MD [Moshe David]yet. Bela’s husband, Woje, will go away. Maybe you will see him. Sala, I’m sending you thousands of kisses and regards, your sister Raizel. The same from our dear parents, LD [Laya Dina], husband and children. Raizel