“Earth, receive an honoured guest; (a Holocaust victim) is laid to rest.”

In Memory of W.B. Yeats. W.H. Auden (1940)

Their name was pronounced Peh- Sheh- Vor- Ski. I have no idea of the spelling or their first names. I addressed them as “Mr. and Mrs. Pshvorsky. It was such a mouthful, I practiced it before they arrived.

They were our perennial Seder guests. I never saw them otherwise. Honestly, I didn’t mind that.

There was nothing about them I enjoyed. He looked odd. They were both tiny. Even in grade school, I dwarfed them. Their outfits, although their best, were dependably drab,  devoid of color or style, matching their personalities.

They did not participate in the singing, barely spoke, when they did, only in Yiddish. They never laughed at my attempts to amuse them. Indeed, I don’t think they ever smiled. Their mood vacillated between somber and morose. In all the years they attended our Seders, I can’t recall a single comment either of them ever made.

After they left, I am retrospectively ashamed to admit, I made fun of them, and of my parents for inviting them, then quickly forgot about them as soon as the door closed behind them.

After we moved out of Washington Heights in 1968, I never saw them again. I didn’t think........

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