Sauci Bosner

Beloved Brothers, Sisters and Friends, I picked up  my phone at the Jewish student  mensa Ijar in Amsterdam.  Shabbas was calling and I was busy, fixing to get ready to get home on time, this time. I picked the phone up on the last ring. Hello.  My name is Sam. Sam Silver.  I just got in to Amsterdam from California and I need a place to stay and somewhere to eat for Shabbas.  I am a little low on cash and I heard that you are the Jewish student worker…Can you help me? This was the beginning of Sam’s and my soul talking friendship, starting in the early 1980’s and beginning once again when I read wednesday’s request on the mail for prayers of tehillim. I replied with a mail:  what is going on with your father?  I thought Leah had sent the mail. I received an answer right away, not from her.  Later that night I read that Sam Shmuel Silver z”l had left his body. Sam and I met and spoke, soul to soul, with each other often.  The stories were told in his well chosen words, photographs and silences.  A great -shidduch-was made with Wolf Stein, a generous Dutch man who offered his home and friendship to Sam.  There on the Den Texstraat in Amsterdam, Sam made his home, in between the chaos of the Shoah’s shadows and the crisp blue skies and canals of Mokum Aleph’s streets and canals.  Sam’s search for his roots and the daily struggle of LIfe brought him often to me.  We would have a coffee, tea and a little something sweet, catch up on all the breaking news of our lives and move forwards , a bit stronger a bit more alive. Sam was sent to visit Jews in the Soviet Union, a visit which with hindsight, changed his life.  His meetings with Soviet Jews, listening to their stories and admiring their struggles, were captured in poignant photographs.  Upon his return to Amsterdam and us his chevre, he became restless once again.  Our meetings and soultalks took on an urgency of time and space.  Sam needed to move forwards and the time was NOW. We were sitting at American Cafe close to the Leidseplein.  While waiting for  our second round of coffees and teas, i remembering saying to Sam:  I can not think of anything else for you to do here in Europe Sam.  The only place, the only one  to go to now is  Shlomo. Here is the address of his moshav.  Go there, give him a hug from me.  Don’t worry anymore. You will be fine. The rest is His-story. Sam called me to say he arrived safely. Sam called me to tell me that he was making the best peanut butter EVER. Sam called me to tell me he met the sweetest woman Ever. Sam called me when his children  were born. Sam called me when his flight had a delay and he and his family needed a place in Amsterdam to stay for Shabbas.  I called Anja Bryna on her mobile and told her to pick up a few extra challahs, chickens and honey  at the kosher butcher.  I called Jenna Rachel to  stop by the market and get some more fruit for the fruit salad.  We were having guests for Shabbas. I took a taxi home from Beth Shalom Friday afternoon so that I would have enough time to get the shnitzels and salads prepared on time. The table was set and people were sleeping all  over the place.  I felt like goldilocks and the three bears:  Who is sleeping in MY bed? I walked into my bedroom to hang up my coat…and there was Sam, now Shmuel, laying down on my very hard mattress.  His back was hurting and he needed to rest.  We had  not seen each other in what seemed like lifetimes. And…there he was with his wife and two children , having a pre shabbas menucha….. Needless to say, we had the Greatest Shabbas EVER…  I have not made so many shnitzels since.  We dovened together and Noam taught us a new niggum for Shalom Aleikum.  The kids all took a walk around the Gaasperplas Shabbas afternoon.  The alte kakers enjoyed the shabbas menucha.  Havdalah was sweet and we all sang in a perfect harmony which has permeated all of our memories past and future since. The last time Sam called me was a few months ago.  He asked me to send him some vitamins. I told him that I saw him in a film that was made about Reb Shlomo z”l.  We talked about the kids and everyone else we remembered to ask about.  He renewed the invitation to come for Shabbas. I never did send the vitamins. May our memories  carry us higher and higher.  Amen. Sauci Bosner, Miracles By Appointment, Amsterdam -Mokum Aleph The Netherlands