Bread Givers: A Novel by Anzia Yezierska

Author:Anzia Yezierska [Yezierska, Anzia]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Persea
Published: 2003-07-31T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter VIII

THE HARD HEART

How could we help ourselves? All we had was sunk in this empty fake of a store. Still it was a place to start with something. And so we moved to a lonesome street, at the edge of a dead town, and lived out there, at the back of the store. Hoping with nothing to hope with, our fainting hearts still prayed for a miracle to save us.

While I was busy fixing the place, Mother was out bargaining with the wholesalers to trust her with enough goods to restock the store. Always she managed to push by the little people and get herself into the private office of the big man at the head of the business. Catching hold of the man’s hands, in the fire of her great need, she clung to him till he heard out all her troubles of an empty store. And so she burned into a man’s eyes her pleading to be trusted, that one after another gave her goods on time.

After a while, it seemed that Father and Mother could make a go of the store. But how could I stand the empty deadness of the place?

Ach! The loneliness of that little town! And the cold, stiff people there. It was like living among walking chunks of ice. The each-for-himself look froze me to the bone.

Hours passed before a customer would step in for a bar of soap or a loaf of bread. As I listened to the ticking of the clock, each minute of each hour seemed like the ashes of a thousand years slowly smothering me.

I wanted back the mornings going to work. And the evenings from work. The crowds sweeping you on, like waves of a beating sea. The shop. The roar of the rushing machines. the drive and the thrill of doing things faster and faster. The pay envelope. The joyous feel of money where every little penny was earned with your own hands.

What would become of me if I remained out here, day in and day out, without friends. My arms would wither at my sides. I’d forget how to shake hands. My tongue would grow dumb in my mouth. And all my longing for people would shrink in my frozen heart.

Mother had just come back from New York, loaded with packages. Till the goods would be sent, she had grabbed from the wholesalers a few samples of everything she could possibly carry. She tossed the things on the counter and dropped into a chair by the window. She lay back, closed her eyes, and a grateful, rested look came into her face. “God should only be merciful and help us work up the store,” she gasped, mopping her face with a corner of her shawl. “After all, it’s the first time since we came to America that we have a little light and air. When I look out of the window, it’s not into a black airshaft. I see a tree, the sky, green grass.”

“There’s a lot of grass in the cemetery, too,” I cried.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.