Baby in the Snow

My grandfather was born in 1907 in a Ukrainian village called Talalaevka. There weren’t any cars, buses or trolleys there at the time, there wasn’t the nice and fast Moscow subway, so when people wanted to go somewhere they had to use horses. A horse harnessed to a cart in summer, and to a sleigh in winter.

That was how my grandfather always started the story of his birth, with the description of horses, harnesses, carts, sleighs, and big sheepskin coats that people had to wrap over them when riding in winter. He then proceeded to explain that back in those times Russian Jews had to live within the Pale, in small towns and villages, away from cultural centers, away from big universities, theatres and opera houses. I would always ask why just for the satisfaction of hearing the answer. “Jews were much smarter and stronger than goyim to begin with. Russian Tsar was just too scared of what happens if they’re given equal opportunities.”

My grandfather’s mother went into labor two weeks before she was due. She didn’t expect to go into labor when she and my grandfather’s father decided to visit her aunt in the next village. They traveled in a horse-drawn sleigh. And as soon as they got there my grandfather’s mother went into labor. Luckily, the aunt’s neighbor was a midwife. The labor didn’t last long, and soon my grandfather’s mother gave birth to a large pink boy, so strong and healthy that everybody said, ”What a strong, healthy boy!” The mother...