"To pick up gifts from the floor" • Yitzhak Toito's book The first episode is here:
| Birth ropes
"Can you freeze this moment?" she said in a whisper, gazing mesmerized at the first implied flicker of morning. The one that starts slowly and consistently and leaves the night no chance.
Wrapped in a thick blanket and curled up in a hammock on the balcony, we watched the birth cycles of a new day. We were present at the wonders of "the one who renews his goodness every day, always an act of Genesis."
I whispered back "You can't stop the clock of the universe. You can't go back in time. But…"
I waited a minute.
"but what?"
"You can maybe try to document, write. Leave something."
Yes," she returned slowly. "To leave something of value to the next generation. Yes, it's worth it."
I looked into her eyes from a centimeter away. "A piece of work."
Looking back and smiling she pressed her finger on my forehead and whispered: "No problem, everything is here."
I stared intently at the mesmerizing sunrise and an old-new story slowly crept into me from the back of my mind.
The morning won the night again. Almost like yesterday.
A new day is born. we saw
Haifa - 1972
| The hack |
Only scheming people have anything to do outside in this weather and at such hours. On a moonless night, a gloomy sky and thick clouds hinting at an approaching stormy rain, the two silhouettes dressed in black seemed like customers from a surreal play. In their coordinated movements, they looked like two parts of a well-oiled machine working in harmony. When they were done, they went up and sat on the coachman's bunk.
Wrapped in black windbreakers and sitting on an old cart pulled by a horse, they rolled out of Shapira Street, which begins at Halutz Street, and went down the entire length of the Ma'ale Al-Liberat. When they reached the 'T' intersection, at the place where there was a water well during the British Mandate period, turn right onto Shivet Zion Street and into the Wadi Salib neighborhood.
The heavy cart almost overturned on the sharp bend going down to the neighborhood. With great effort they managed to take control of her and stabilize her. A few minutes later, they stopped by an old three-story stone building. Luckily for them the destination is on the first floor. They got on the cart and from there, with flexibility and lightness, and with the support of an old gutter, they climbed up to the balcony of the apartment facing the street.
The old wooden door, which had seen better days, was locked. Its lower part, which had long since rotted, was repaired with the help of a piece of plywood about fifty centimeters in size. Without saying a word, the two pulled out screwdrivers and patiently dismantled the wooden panel, gently placed it aside and climbed through the newly created opening, which led them into the kitchenette of the small apartment.
White beard and piercing eyes
Suddenly, there was the sound of metal hitting the floor. A screwdriver fell from the pocket of one of them and rolled through the gap in the door towards the balcony. The ringing noise froze them in place. For two whole minutes they remained silent in their place, listening for any noise that would indicate that they had been discovered, God forbid. But no sound was heard. When one of them put his hand through the gap in the door to pick up the screwdriver, the inside of his hand was scratched deeply by a splinter of old wood on the side of the door. He didn't take out a rudder. They moved silently in the darkness of the apartment towards the bedroom.
The apartment was sparsely furnished, less than what was needed even for basic survival needs. It had a tiny dining table and two old wooden chairs, a four-drawer chest of drawers was against the wall and above it hung a black and white picture of a rabbi with an impressive white beard and piercing eyes. A worn carpet was spread on the floor and some pillows were placed against the wall. Living room. In addition to the narrow kitchenette and modest living room there was also a bedroom. They turned to him deaf.
The door was open. Such tenants are not afraid of theft. Makes sense. What can thieves find here at night, what the owner of the house cannot find in the daylight?
They peered in cautiously. Under some blankets, on which an old rug was spread to increase the heating, an elderly woman curled up. One of the burglars pulled a handkerchief from an inner pocket, soaked it with liquid from a small bottle and gently pressed it to the woman's face. She will sleep a little more tonight. Now they could hurry more.
They headed for the main door, opened it with a key that was stuck in the lock hole and went down the stairs to the main street. When they finished, after an hour of silent activity, they locked the main door from the inside. Before they turned to leave the way they came in, one of them stopped in front of the picture of the rabbi above the dresser, and brought his finger to his mouth in a gesture that says 'Shhh'.
After closing the patio door from the inside, climb out through the opening and screw the plywood back into place. Down the street, they parted with a slap and a smiling wink. One of them left to take care of the horse, while the other took off at a light run towards the Shivet Zion junction and the release point and disappeared from sight.
A heavenly revelation
The next day, in the afternoon, a boy came down the wide stone steps from the direction of the "Yavna" school, carrying a satchel full of books on his back. He turned left through Wadi Salib towards Shibat Zion. An unusual gathering was seen near the neighborhood cafe. In the center of the group stood an elderly woman, who two weeks ago was widowed and left destitute. Her husband was the sole breadwinner. With eyes shining with excitement, she told all the neighbors about the visible miracle she had experienced.
At the end of Shiva, after all the commotion had died down - the good neighbors had returned to their daily routine and the children had returned to boarding school - she stood alone in the living room of her house, spread her hands to the sky and in tears begged for her soul. She could still survive for the week, she thought, but when her children returned from boarding school on Saturday she would have nothing to feed them. After she unloaded everything that was on her heart, she felt peace and calm. She did her part, now - his turn.
Last night she went to bed early. She thought of getting up at first light and going to some buildings in the Hadar neighborhood, maybe they would want a cleaner for the stairwells there. But her plans went wrong. Unusually, she fell into a blissful slumber.
When she woke up late, she couldn't believe her eyes and for a moment thought she was in another house. She rubbed her eyes at the sight of a new dining area, a couch and two armchairs, two folding beds, including mattresses, a thick and clean carpet, a large carton filled with woolen blankets, a radiator, a refrigerator full of groceries and two more cartons full of goodies. Attached to the cardboard was a note written in Rashi script, the woman added and said "Carton every Shabbat".
The student continued on his way. When he passed by the boy sitting on the bars, in front of the cafe, he exchanged a smiling wink with him and continued without saying a word. After passing a few meters he heard his voice behind him. "You should take care of the wound, so that it doesn't get infected."
After all or - the beginning
Two days later, in the first detention of the morning, she said: "I didn't know this story. And that's it? Does it end here?"
"And what do you think?"
She examined my face with an abysmal seriousness and then, an amused smile spread across her face "I think it's starting."
After a few more seconds of silence she said "What a champion I am."
"Yes? And how is it?"
She snuggled into my chest and muttered softly "How years ago I knew how to answer - yes."
Yitzhak Toito
Yitzhak Toito, born in Haifa - 1956. Only son of six other brothers and one sister (yes, there is such a possibility). The setting of his childhood ranged mainly from the lower city to the splendor of the Carmel.
After four years of service in one of the Navy's elite units, he turned to teaching, and until recently served as a fitness trainer and physical education teacher at a high school.
These days his book was published "pick up gifts from the floor" whose plot takes place mainly in Haifa.
Has a master's degree in education and a bachelor's degree in physical education.
very exciting
I really enjoyed the short piece, written with wisdom and humor, reminiscent of my childhood in a neighborhood that had everything, I would love to read more chapters. Respect to Yitzhak Toito, a great writer, I will also look for the book!
I read eagerly. The author's childhood districts bordering the main streets of Haifa, the pioneer, the prophets...gave me a sense of identification and belonging...the entertaining writing and the colorful characters in the book, simple people with a high soul...the personal plot has a lot of tension and a desire to reach the solution of the mystery....
And of course... a lot, a lot from the Jewish tradition, with concepts from the Jewish community, Hawaii, the synagogue, customs... all of them are approached with a lot of kindness, pleasantness, and the great simplicity....
My husband and I eagerly read it... and this is a book that deserves to remain in the bookcase, worth returning to again...
An authentic book, written in a way that is pleasing to the eye
Light and yet full of smart messages.
I purchased the book directly from the author and thus received a personal dedication. He is also a supportive friend on Facebook. And about the book I say that I enjoyed reading it, I loved the colorful characters, the relationship between the characters, the way of life in the neighborhood, the mutual guarantee and the good deeds of the young people from the neighborhood and the heroes of the book, who are actually also one of the heroes of the neighborhood, each of them made a difference in their later life and turned in other directions, But the brave friendship from childhood remained. A special relationship that does not need unnecessary words.
And if it is written about Yitzhak Toito, the author, who is the only son of six other brothers and a sister, and you don't understand what it means, read to the end and maybe you will understand. perhaps. A book based on real people, not elites, but salt of the earth. Worth a read.
Read again and again
and enjoy every moment
From amazing childhood experiences
and experiential writing
rose and succeeded champion?
I read the book. The decimal guy turns every situation into a story with a message.
I would love to continue reading.
Maybe a regular section in the newspaper? what do you think
Wow, I read the book.
Great.
Witty and insightful, just like the title of the book.
Successfully! Nice use of photos. I'm sure that many people, and certainly Haifaim, will enjoy your beautiful book.
A journey to the regions of our childhood in the night of familiar characters is a must read for every Haifa resident, a highly recommended scorching pleasure
Charming and exciting. What an authentic setting.
It's very moving. My husband, who is 72 years old, grew up in Wadi Saliv and 93 Shibat Zion Street, a building full of rooms where we made families, families and a common kitchen for all. The memories of sharing and living together are always moving. Writing moves as if I were in the past
Hello Pearl. My name is Moshe Fish. I am 73 years old, I was born and raised at 93 Shivat Zion St. I would be grateful if you could contact me. 050-7366511.
My wife and I read it and we highly recommend it. This is a fun book in all respects, interwoven with humor, smart and very interesting. I was especially intrigued by the stories about Haifa of the early seventies, but this time not from the perspective of the "Kermelists" but from the perspective of a Jewish boy who grew up in Wadi Salib and managed to break through several glass ceilings there, but never forgot his childhood friends and neighbors, those simple and warm people Wisdom of life, about which he tells with great warmth and longing...
All the best to you Yitzhak Toito for Wadi Saliv in Haifa. Shabbat Shalom
So beautifully written. And very intriguing.
I would love to read more and more