30/III 37.
To those close to me in Ein Harod.
In truth, I have not changed my plan: I announced that I would arrive in two years, provided that I could manage to communicate in Hebrew in some way. By intending to leave for Jerusalem already now, I am making my task easier: a year in Palestine will force me into a kind of compulsory familiarity with the language. The second reason is that first, I need to breathe some fresh air, stretch my bones, and regain the right to smile. And only then, perhaps, will I recognize within myself the right to show my face in the countryside.
I wrote about a "plan"—I came very close to writing: "decision." This looks a bit bold, as if the realization of such a daring endeavor depended solely on me. Is an internal decision not enough, regardless of whether one manages to carry it out? This will not be entirely understandable, but—I know—if I were to come not as an old, tired (and tormented) man to share the remainder of my strength with you, I shall come to you once again as a child, starting the wanderings of life anew. Reincarnation, metaphysics? No, for me these are real truths, which were only reinforced by this or that evening spent in Palestine.
A land that searches for God. Someone might say: but what about India, what about China? Perhaps. But here—in longing, degradation, isolation, and shame—this was forged: not a need, not a wish, but the necessity of finding the essence and purpose of existence. Your restlessness and sense of unfulfillment are precisely that search.
Forgive me for sharing thoughts that are not fully formed. They torment me...
In reality, the matter stands as follows: I want, even must, arrive in Jerusalem as early as May. There, I suppose I will manage to scrape by like a student; only after that do I intend to set out wherever I am called and whatever is demanded of me. The sole and final joy in life—from such heavy trials and experiences, difficult perceptions and reflections—is like turning flour into bread for the people...
I do not expect a reply to this letter. I am writing to others, so I deemed it my duty to write to Those whose hands I shook first in this extraordinary country of an extraordinary people.
Greetings. – Peace Pokój).
Korczak
Korczak
Historical-Biographical Commentary: Bread from Flour and the Pre-War "Peace" (Shalom).
This is Korczak's letter from March 30, 1937, which reveals a text of incredible literary power, far deeper than its later, typewritten version. Here we uncover three key aspects:
1. The Cipher of Torment: "They torment me..."
Unlike his official writings, this manuscript contains raw, intimate insertions. The single-word paragraph: "They torment me...", placed after he apologized for sharing unformed thoughts, provides a direct insight into what was happening inside the Doctor’s mind. It was precisely this mental torment, this permanent struggle with himself (which Ceśka Arnon wrote about in her Dialogue), that drove him to extreme exhaustion, which was often misdiagnosed as passive depression.
Unlike his official writings, this manuscript contains raw, intimate insertions. The single-word paragraph: "They torment me...", placed after he apologized for sharing unformed thoughts, provides a direct insight into what was happening inside the Doctor’s mind. It was precisely this mental torment, this permanent struggle with himself (which Ceśka Arnon wrote about in her Dialogue), that drove him to extreme exhaustion, which was often misdiagnosed as passive depression.
2. "Scrape by like a student" – The True Fire of Survival
The announcement that he wants to come to Jerusalem as early as May and intends to "scrape by like a student" is powerful evidence of his unyielding fire for life. Nearing the age of 60, a world-renowned author, pedagogue, and director of a famous institution, Korczak was ready to renounce all Warsaw comforts, financial stability, and social standing. He was willing to live in extreme poverty, like a poor student in Jerusalem, solely to rescue the independence of his spirit and to "stretch his bones" in Galilee.
The announcement that he wants to come to Jerusalem as early as May and intends to "scrape by like a student" is powerful evidence of his unyielding fire for life. Nearing the age of 60, a world-renowned author, pedagogue, and director of a famous institution, Korczak was ready to renounce all Warsaw comforts, financial stability, and social standing. He was willing to live in extreme poverty, like a poor student in Jerusalem, solely to rescue the independence of his spirit and to "stretch his bones" in Galilee.
3. The Metaphor of Bread and the Ultimate Farewell
A brilliant, rigorous definition of the meaning of suffering: "The sole and final joy in life—from such heavy trials and experiences (...)—is like turning flour into bread for the people..." Korczak did not view his difficult experiences as futile. He wanted to "melt down" all his European torment, anxiety, and experience into nourishing knowledge (bread) for the new generation of Jews in Palestine. The letter ends with a unique farewell: "Greetings. – Pokój-Peace." – the word "Peace" (Shalom), cast two years before the outbreak of the war, resonates today like a tragic manifesto directed toward those whose hands he was the very first to shake in Ein Harod.
A brilliant, rigorous definition of the meaning of suffering: "The sole and final joy in life—from such heavy trials and experiences (...)—is like turning flour into bread for the people..." Korczak did not view his difficult experiences as futile. He wanted to "melt down" all his European torment, anxiety, and experience into nourishing knowledge (bread) for the new generation of Jews in Palestine. The letter ends with a unique farewell: "Greetings. – Pokój-Peace." – the word "Peace" (Shalom), cast two years before the outbreak of the war, resonates today like a tragic manifesto directed toward those whose hands he was the very first to shake in Ein Harod.