It can tell stories that are situated in reality and then, for some, recalled in an oral tradition with maybe a hint of ancestry, reinterpretation, and fable. The legacy of humankind of his/stories and to be fair, her/stories is pointedly riddled with complex interactions enveloped in real world scenarios. So, here is the background you should know. Your experiences will guide you as to what you “accept or reject.” {Thank you Theresa M.}
There is a strong distinction between a fishmonger and a fisherman.
The former sells fish and the latter catches fish to sell.
Four of Jesus’ closest friends, the Apostles Peter, Andrew, James and John were fishermen. They had boats and caught fish with nets in the Sea of Galilee. The four were partners in a fishing business in Capernaum, located on the northern shore of the Sea of Galilee, and would have exported fresh as well as dried fish to Damascus, Tyre, Jerusalem and the villages around the Galilee.
Now, fishmongers have been selling fish from pushcarts for centuries. In the early 1900s, Jewish fishmongers would import herring and other fish to Germany, Poland, and Russia, then sell it in shops and from pushcarts. Nowadays, fishmongers still sell fresh seafood from pushcarts in many places around the world.
Dr. Miriam Edelson
Miriam Edelson, or more respectfully, Dr. Miriam Edelson is a prior aaduna contributor. Her “stories” continue to delve into the poignancy of the universal human spirit. Here is a brief excerpt from her forthcoming work, “The Herring Broker” that will be in the next issue of aaduna.
“Why are you leaving again so soon?” asked Howard. He was nine years old and given half a chance, he’d gladly have tossed his father’s suitcase out the window.
“I have to go on business. You’re old enough now to understand,” Abe snapped. He could be a hard man.
“I know,” said Howard, “but I don’t want to stay here with Aunt Anna.”
It was an early spring day in Brooklyn, 1928. The family was gathered at the kitchen table, having just finished a delicious Sunday lunch of Anna’s homemade cheese blintzes with sweet fruit toppings and sour cream. She’d even stopped at Kossar’s to pick up some crusty fresh bialys with indented softer centres that she warmed in the oven and topped with smoked herring.
Anna, a sturdy woman of about seventy, had heard her nephew’s complaint. She looked at Howard and sighed. She blew her nose, stuffing the used Kleenex into her bosom under the top of her light green nylon housedress. The sun was shining down through the window onto the scratched white enamel icebox, replenished by the ice man the previous day.
To be continued…
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