Ida Nasatir writings   List of honorees         Louis Rose Society         Jewishsightseeing home

Travel Piece  by Ida Nasatir

Letter from Paris,  by Ida Nasatir,  April 13, 1951

April 13, 1951—Ida Nasatir, "A Letter from Paris," Southwestern Jewish Press, pages 1, 9: Editor's precede: Ida Nasatir Says: Look at Our Children, Then Make Your Pledge"—The Joint Distribution Committee is supporting them.  You MUST support the UJA through the Combined Jewish Appeal of San Diego.

 Dearest Sarah (Goodrich), Rose (Neumann), Ann(e) (Ratner) and Selma (Getz): A week ago I learned of your appointment as this year's chairmen of the Women's Division of the United Jewish Appeal. May I offer you my congratulations, my heartfelt good wishes, and my sincere cooperation? No finer, more loyal women could have been selected God be with you and give you the strength and courage necessary for so great an undertaking.  I cannot tell you how I miss being with you, especially now. My nostalgia for the West Coast is tremendous—for all of you in particular. I do not have a pledge card with me. I wish, however, to make my pledge and I hereby do so. I pledge to the Women's Division the sum of $275 (two hundred and seventy-five dollars) to be paid upon my return to America. I cannot recall the sum I gave last year, but I think this is an increase. If it is not, I shall make it so. For now, more than ever before, I know where the money of the UJA goes. All the days of my life I shall never forget the DP's I have met in Paris. The need, the misery, and perhaps above and beyond all else—the loneliness of these people haunts me in the silent hours of the night. If only I could take you by the hand. If I could show you how these people live, and wait—and wait. Each week I go to see some of them, and when I do, I have to pinch myself to make me remember that it is 1951. Each year that I live I promise myself to "increase" my pledge—never to cut! How could I do otherwise? When I mount the stone steps of a tenement so old and decrepit there are times I am actually frightened. No light guides you, only your sense of touch and a small flashlight in your hand. Higher and higher you go, six winding flights up. In one room lives one of my friends. In another room still another friend. All are JOINT dependents, all are able to "live" because women like you are willing to stand up and tell other women these people shall not die. Having talked with the old woman who has no one on earth left she can call her own, who tells me she remembers the old Polish villagers saying their prayers: "Cast me not off in mine old age," having watched youngsters who need better food and light and air, having noticed their parents wonder and worry—certainly I cannot "cut" my pledge.  I beg you, tell others not to reduce their pledge—in a hundred different ways they will be rewarded. In some way we simply must thank God for the year of health he gave us and all those so near and dear to us.  Can't we do it in some concrete form of thanksgiving, by saying: "Here, we give it to you, in Europe, in Israel, in North Africa...thank you God, thank you, for letting me give."  I send my pledge with one regret—it is not enough.  Devotedly, Ida Nasatir.