Page 194 - Jewish Book Annual Volume 11 (1952-1952)

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As the time approached for the appearance of the Pentateuch
a strange mood seized my father. Mother and I grasped its
significance but never spoke of it to one another and it was not
until several months after his death that we compared notes.
He seemed to relax, not in a restful, physical sense, but rather
into a resigned and philosophical calm. This he expressed to a
few of his intimates on the occasion when we drank a toast to
the first two volumes — which had just arrived that week. “You,”
he said, “are drinking to the first two volumes. You will see the
others as well, but I will not be here with you.”
Four months later he passed away, having lived to see the
culmination of his life’s work partially in print and with the
assurance that his devoted companion would see that the other
volumes appeared, as she did.