The Baby Experiment Read Free

until she is married.”
    â€œBut Mama!”
    â€œNot one more word,” said Mama, raising her hand. “You will contact this Frau …”
    â€œTaubman.”
    â€œThis Frau Taubman and tell her it was a mistake; that you have changed your mind.”
    â€œI can’t,” Johanna said.
    â€œYou must.”
    â€œI’m sorry, Mama, but I intend to take this job — with or without your permission.”
    Mama wagged her finger at Johanna. “You are stubborn,” she said. “Since you were a little girl, you have always been stubborn.”
    â€œNot stubborn, Mama. Determined. There is a difference.”
    Shaking her head, Mama muttered, “Stubborn. Like a mule.” She pounded the dough again and again, her knuckles pushing through to the wooden table top, her lips pressed tightly together. Finally, she shoved the dough into a pan, brushed melted butter on top, and threw a cloth over the pan. Johanna wondered if the poor dough would recover from its ordeal.

    The following Saturday afternoon, Johanna and Mama were walking home from the house where some Jewish families gathered for prayers. What would it be like to go to a real synagogue, built only for study and prayer? Johanna wondered. Would it be easier to talk to God in such a place? Would He listen to our prayers then?
    For many years, the Hamburg Senate had prohibited the Jews from building a synagogue. And now rumours were spreading that soon the Jews of Hamburg would no longer be allowed to practise their religion at all. Many of the wealthier Jews had already moved away — to Altona, Ottensen, and even as far as Amsterdam.
    Lately, Johanna had been feeling as though a blanket of fear was suffocating her. She was afraid of being poor, and of being Jewish. For almost a hundred years, the leaders of the church had been demanding that the Senate expel the Jews. And for the past six years, the Jews had been forced to pay exorbitant fees for the privilege of staying in the city. Will a day come when we will be thrown out of Hamburg? Johanna wondered. Where will we go? What will we do? The thoughts buzzed in her head, like pesky flies she couldn’t shoo away. Questions without answers.
    â€œJohanna,” Mama said. “I have been thinking. Are you still determined to take that job?”
    â€œI am, Mama.”
    â€œIt is not safe to live away from our community.” She shook her head and blew her nose into her handkerchief. “Our only safety is to stay together; to follow our laws.”
    Johanna remembered when other children had often taunted her younger brother, Isaac, on his way home from cheder ; had thrown dirt or stones at him; had pushed the little boy into the filthy gutter.
    â€œMama, don’t worry. I’ll be careful. And I’ll send you money every month to help out at home.”
    Mama put her arm around Johanna’s shoulders. “I am trying to understand why you are so set on taking this job.” She walked for several moments in silence. “You probably don’t know, but when I was young, I wanted to see a bit of the world, too.” She sighed. “It is hard for me, but I … I will let you go.”
    â€œYou will?”
    â€œI see that you are set on this path.” She shook her head. “Besides, no matter how hard I try, we are getting poorer and poorer. There is not enough money to buy food or clothes, or pay the rent. But Johanna —”
    â€œYes, Mama?”
    â€œI will worry. Every minute you are away, I will worry.”
    â€œI’ll write and visit as often as I can.”
    â€œI will still worry.”
    â€œBut Mama, you always worry. About everything.”
    â€œThat is true. But I cannot help my nature.”
    â€œAnd I can’t help mine.”

    Most Jews lived in the section of Hamburg called “Neustadt,” or New City, after they had been ordered to move from “Altstadt,” the old city.