April 14, 1932

This letter is attached and mailed at the same time with the letter from yesterday.

April 14, 1932
Thursday 8:45 am

Good morning Beloved one.

I have slept better than I have contemplated. My prayer was answered. I feel much better this morning. My cold is a little better too.

I have no idea what I am going to do today – I think I shall take a book and go down to the park for the all afternoon.

I am waiting for 10:20 so that I may read the letter from you. Your letters – what they mean to me. Do you realize how they cheer? How they caress? How they speak between the lines? They seem to say “Bibi dearest please have patience – it will not be long now – I love you so Bibi – I cannot explain just how much – it is without limit – and I worship you so – oh Bibi mine we shall be so happy” and is it a wonder Beloved one, that I yearn and wait with such impatience for your letters.

Read a little this morning, happened to read the synopsis of “Anna Karenina” felt how much alike I was in her position, when she left her husband and son, rebuked by society, and I felt myself, The Black Sheep of the family, wondered if my end shall be such as Anna Karenina’s? it will be different, even if I should notice that your love has cooled towards me, as Wronsky’s towards “Anna”, for I shall not throw myself under a train, for you have promised to present me with a revolver, and remember beloved one I shall hold you to your promise. You must think mad, to think such thoughts, but I cannot help it, just as you cannot help thinking and fearing that something might happen to our love.

Now Libinker look into yourself, deeply, search, do you not find the fear I am speaking of? The fear that will always be in our hearts, for are we not one. Just as you will see a rival in every interesting man, I shall see in every other woman. For I am no less jealous than you are. And we both are so young and both attract the opposite sex.

We shall have to be very careful not to hurt one another. 24 dear, just when the fruit is ripened, it is Youth in Bloom. Do you wonder that I think these thoughts?

Just received your letter, why such a short one? You Bad Boy depriving me of a hundred words at least, when each word means so much tome. Oh my Beloved Soul, how tired you sound, and how you are full of longing, our moods seem to find their echo in one another. You write Libinker that you could not sleep Monday night, evidently you have felt my pains, for I too have not slept that night. How much better I feel now, if you only knew what your letters really mean to me, and mother’s letter made me feel very good, for then I am sure that Layelle is well and happy and does not miss me.

I realize dearest one that I should not think of spending $15, even though it is for literature, no, we shall need every dollar dear. Mother writes me, but you have no doubt read what she writes, if you didn’t, you should have. You know dearest one, there is nothing we should not read together, no secrets from one another, since we are to be one. She writes that she wants us to take the $100 she is giving us to New York and spend it for pleasure. Where Beloved one shall we get the money for going to N.Y.? Have you any idea yet? And May the 7th is so near. I believe dearest that I should wish to set our wedding day for the 7th of May, with your permission dear Sir. Think of it Dearest, our beginning of a so much dreamed of Life – Love – Friendship. Is it possible? Are we really to realize our dream? God is merciful.

If my letter from yesterday has irritaded you in any way, please forgive me, for it was not meant to.

I have meant to write you a few times and forgot. Please tell mother to give you my “poetry which is in a black binder” in the bookcase in the front room. You know where dearest, near the chesterfield, please explain to her where it is and what it is, and by all means let her give it to you.

I have today also received a very cheerful letter from Don, he is terribly upset that you are not friendly towards him, and do not invite him to your home. He assures me of his love and respect for you, and this I know to be sincere dearest Pinchos, do not cause him any more pain and see him. Such sincere feelings as he has towards us are very rare and we must not abuse them. And libinker do get patient enough to write a letter to our dearest friend Akina, he deserves a prompt answer, and if you postpone it too long, you know the result.

You can write him that May 7th will be the “Holy Day” (remember the sabbath day and keep it holy) shall this not make it doubly Holy.

Just think Beloved Soul, only three weeks from this Saturday, I do not dare even think of it.

Have I written already twelve pages? Am I not good? I have tripled the amount of pages you send me (but it is only because I am woman and cursed with a inheritance of much saying).

But even Woman knows a limit, so good bye my M.P.M.S.M.L. My Pinchos

Your (for better or worse)

See this ring it holds for you no less than


My sincere regards to our mothers – our father sister and brother, tell them that I love them all. All but you – for you I worship as my God.

This looks like it is going to be an unusually long letter.
3:30 pm I received the package, thanks Liblinker.

What have I done until now? It is beautiful out, I walked to the University grounds, sat near the lake, took in all the beauty surrounding me, and bathed myself in sunshine. I read on Tosltoy, when he is 46 he wakes up to the fact that one must die, peasant or poet. It shocks him, he believes himself followed by death, no matter what he does, or where he is. He begins to ask himself, then why be born? Why has he put so much energy in his work? What if he is the greatest writer in Russia? Will that save him from the destiny of men, death, he begins to think that life isn’t worthwhile, and decides to commit suicide, but a ray of hope seems to enter in his life. Certainly if he believed in God he would have the rest that all humanity seems to have, for it lives knowing that it must die, and not giving it a thought. And he turns to religion, but soon finds out that there exists hypocrisy, people praying do not mean it, are not sincere, and turns from religion in fear.

Liblinker, Tolstoy the great man sees what we see at 24. He sees that life and death, everything, is just nothingness, and believing that, he decides to live and enjoy the rest of the years left to him as there is no other world, no other life.

I believe Beloved one, that knowing all this gave me strength, to go after happiness, no matter at what cost.

After I read for a while I took a long walk way out of Reno, past the cemetery, walked on, came where the society seems to live, and when I heard someone singing Pagliacci I stood near that beautiful home, and drank in every sound, a few piano selections followed, and I listened hungry. I hoped for more to follow, but evidently these people did not know that Bibi lingered on in hope to listen to hear more. And then I walked back, found the package waiting, and now I can finish the letter knowing that I shall not have anything more to write about.

You ask me Dearest one, I should write to you about those that I meet. Oh dearest Pinchos, I do not meet anyone, I had not been to the Apochinskys, I do not know why, I just do not feel like it, maybe because of these common men there, maybe because they make me feel that I ought to move to them. Maybe because I feel myself at last free, free to follow the instinct of my feelings, not to associate with these that do not interest me, without any “why.” I do hope that fate will not throw me together with people I shall have no interest for, for dearest I want to be free, and not have to force on myself any feeling, which is not natural. I am through playing the part, smiling when I do not feel to, associate with those that are not to my heart. I have thrown down the mask, and do not intend to put it on, I want to be just I.

How do you feel Beloved Soul? Are you working hard? Please be careful with your fingers. Are you going to hear “Menuhin” this Sunday? Please do.

And now I shall say good night to you, and many sweet dreams.

Yours eternally Bibi
Are you tired reading? Forgive.





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