Rachel's Roses Read online

  “Shh. Go back to sleep, Hannah.”

  “I didn’t tell the secret, Rachel.”

  “I know. Only babies tell secrets. You’re not a baby.”

  Hannah smiled a sleepy smile.

  “Tell me another secret,” said Hannah.

  Rachel bent down and whispered, “Rosh Hashanah starts tomorrow night.”

  “I won’t tell,” Hannah said as she drifted off to sleep.

  As Rachel watched Hannah sleeping so peacefully, she suddenly knew what she wanted to do with the buttons.

  • eleven •

  RACHEL’S ROSE

  “It’s time for the buttons, Rachel,” said Mrs. Berger after Hannah had gone to bed.

  Rachel reached into her pocket. She felt the roses that she’d worked so hard to get. But what she pulled out instead was the polka-dot button card. It felt so different in her hand now, almost exciting.

  More than anything, after what Hannah had done, Rachel wanted to share the same buttons with her sister. This Rosh Hashanah, she and Hannah would be like two waves coming ashore at the same time.

  She handed the button card to Mama.

  “Those are pretty, but I thought you were going to get different buttons,” her mother said.

  Rachel just smiled and said, “May I help sew them on?”

  “Yes,” Mama said.

  She grinned as she gave Rachel some thread and handed her the skirts.

  Rachel’s mouth dropped open.

  “Mama! Our old skirts look so different!” she said. Rachel’s skirt had a row of red plaid pleats on the bottom. Hannah’s skirt had a red plaid ruffle on the bottom!

  “Do you like your skirt?” Mama asked.

  Rachel hugged her skirt and said, “I love it!” She bet that Hannah would love her skirt too.

  So that was Mama’s secret. She had made their old skirts look new—and special! Rachel and Hannah wouldn’t be twins after all.

  Mrs. Berger showed Rachel where to place the buttons so they would line up with the buttonholes. Then they both set to work. Her mother sewed faster but Rachel didn’t care. She worked slowly so she would do a good job.

  As she sewed, she thought of Hannah getting lost just so she could get a penny to give to Rachel. When Rachel had found her, Hannah was sitting in the dust. Her hair was in a tangle. She was tugging on it so she wouldn’t be afraid. The clothes Bubbie had so carefully washed and ironed looked ragged.

  At that moment Rachel knew—she didn’t have to wait for someday anymore. She understood what Bubbie meant about silk and rags. Something nice inside was more important than what was on the outside. New skirts were nice to have but a sister like Hannah was silk in the cupboard.

  “Very good,” said Mama when Rachel showed her the finished work. “Soon you’ll be ready to be an assistant dressmaker.”

  Mama finished sewing the hem and laid out Mrs. Golden’s dress on the table.

  Rachel took one of the glass buttons she had hidden in her pocket and held it against her skirt. The button was just perfect for it, as she knew it would be, but the rose would be even better somewhere else.

  “Mama,” she said. “I know what Mrs. Golden’s dress needs.”

  She got the other buttons and set them in a row down the front of Mrs. Golden’s dress. They looked as if they had always been there.

  “Rachel. That’s it!” said Mrs. Berger. “Where did you get these?”

  “I earned the money by delivering phone messages, Mama. Then I bargained with Mr. Solomon for them,” said Rachel, “and he gave me the polka dots too.”

  “But you decided to use the same buttons as Hannah. What a good sister you are.”

  Mama hugged Rachel. “And what a good daughter.”

  Mama got back to work. She was as excited as she had been on the day she left Mr. Lempkin to become a dressmaker. Mama’s dream was shining in her eyes.

  “This is just right!” Mama said when she had finished. “I think Mrs. Golden will be pleased.”

  * * *

  In the early morning, everyone was busy. Bubbie shuffled off to the fish store for some of Mr. Herschel’s herrings.

  Papa said he would bring home some new white candles after work.

  “Go to Phil’s pushcart and buy an apple,” Mama said as she handed Rachel a coin. “And then take this jar and ask Mrs. Gross if we can borrow a little bit of honey.”

  Downstairs, the street was more crowded than usual. Rachel had to squeeze her way between people just to get to the fruit cart.

  She bought the best apple Phil had. Rachel loved dipping apples in honey. Bubbie said it was a wish for a sweet year.

  With apple in hand, Rachel went to Sophie’s house. Sophie filled half the jar with honey from the bottle on the shelf and handed it back to Rachel. Sophie’s apartment was steamy with the smells of cooking fish and potato soup.

  Mrs. Golden was already in the apartment when Rachel returned. She had on the dress. Would she like it? She turned one way, then the other. She tugged at this and pulled at that. She sat down and stood up. Mrs. Berger stood there watching.

  Finally, Mrs. Golden said, “I like it, Mrs. Berger. You were right about the sleeves. And these beautiful roses add just the right touch. I will tell my friends.”

  As Mrs. Golden was changing into her street clothes, Rachel felt the dream whirling inside her mother.

  “I have something for you, Mama,” she said.

  Rachel reached inside her pocket and took out her handkerchief. Inside were the three extra pennies she had earned. “This is to help with your dream.”

  Mama opened her mouth to say something but nothing came out. Her eyes glowed with tears. Mrs. Berger hugged Rachel.

  “Come right home from school,” Mama said softly.

  “I will.”

  Rachel put her handkerchief back in her pocket. She was not going to stay after school again, not today.

  * * *

  The day seemed to move like a turtle with no place to go. When school was finally over, Rachel sped home to help get ready for the holiday. As the sun began to go down, she took Hannah into their room and announced to the rest of the family, “Don’t come in, anyone.”

  “I wonder what is happening in there,” said Mrs. Berger.

  “A secret is happening,” said Bubbie.

  Papa came home with the candles. They weren’t so new and they weren’t so white.

  “I found them in the street vendor’s basket,” he said. “He needed the money more than we needed them new.”

  “They’re lovely, Samuel,” said Mrs. Berger.

  “Look at us, Mama! Look, Papa! Look, Bubbie!” called Hannah from the bedroom doorway.

  “Well, come out here so we can see you,” Papa said.

  Hannah skipped into the kitchen. Rachel came in behind her.

  Hannah’s hair was in neat braids, just like Rachel’s. At the end of the braids were tiny pink ribbons, just like Rachel wore. And they both had on the new red plaid skirts that Mama had made, with the same polka-dot buttons.

  “We’re twins!” said Hannah.

  Mrs. Berger looked at her daughters.

  “You are almost like Rachel,” said Mama. “But you still have some growing to do before you are as grown-up as your sister.”

  “I am grown-up. I can keep a secret,” said Hannah. “I won’t tell anyone that today is Rosh Hashanah!”

  Everyone laughed.

  “We know it already,” said Bubbie.

  “Did Rachel tell you?” asked Hannah.

  “No,” Bubbie said. “This is a secret for everyone. When the town clock chimes, we all hear our own song.”

  Rachel didn’t really understand what Bubbie meant, but she didn’t ask her to explain. She would figure it out.

  “It’s time for apples and hon
ey,” said Mrs. Berger.

  They all took an apple slice and dipped it into the sticky honey.

  “This is going to be a sweet year,” said Papa.

  “No, Papa,” said Rachel, smiling at Bubbie. Then she dipped another slice of apple into the honey and handed it to Hannah. “This is going to be a silk year.”

  “I don’t understand,” Papa said.

  “Someday you’ll know,” said Rachel.

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year that comes around the beginning of the Fall season, always felt special for me when I was growing up. As sunset turned into night, I was eager to start the holiday with my first taste of apples and honey. It was a wish for the coming year to be sweet and good.

  In the morning, getting dressed, I always wanted to wear something new to honor the occasion. In the book, Rachel hoped that Mama would make her a new skirt for the holiday, but even though her skirt wasn’t brand new, Mama made it look like new with pretty red pleats on the bottom. I often received my older cousin’s outgrown clothes and would choose a dress or a scarf, a bracelet or a handkerchief that she gave me to wear. Even though they were used, they were new to me and I loved wearing what she gave me!

  My family and I would walk to services at the synagogue a few blocks away. Even before we went inside, I could hear the sound of the prayers as they rang out onto the street. I would feel them in my heart.

  Rosh Hashanah is a sacred time, a time to ask for forgiveness, to think about how to be a better person and make the world a better place. I would plan to be more helpful to my mother, to work harder at school, and to be nicer to my sister. I knew that Rosh Hashanah would be over soon, but I hoped I would remember to keep my plans through the whole year. And when the holiday returned the next year, I knew it would feel special again.