1908
Worthy Editor,
Have pity on me and my two small children and print my letter in the Forverts.
Max! The children and I now say farewell to you. You left us in such a terrible state. You have no compassion for us.
For six years I loved you faithfully, took care of you like a loyal servant, never had a happy day with you. Yet I forgive you for everything.
You ever asked yourself why you left us? Max, where is your conscience: you used to have sympathy for the forsaken women and used to say their terrible plight was due to the men who left them in dire need. And how did you act? I was a young, educated, decent girl when you took me. You lived with me for six years, during which time I bore you four children. And then you left me.
Of the four children, only two remain, but you have made them living orphans. Who will bring them up? Who will support us? Have you no pity for your own flesh and blood? Consider what you are doing. My tears choke me and I cannot write anymore.
Be advised that in several days I am leaving with my two living orphans for Russia. We say farewell to you and beg you to take pity on us and send us enough to live on...
Your Deserted Wife and Children
1912
Dear Editor,
Twenty-two years ago I came to America with my wife and four little children. We lived in Chicago nineteen years, and we have been in New York for three. I am not skilled in a trade, but I am a businessman, and all these years I've struggled because I never made a living. I know English, I am not lazy, I've tried everything and never succeeded.
When the children were young I had to appeal for aid to my wealthy family in Warsaw, and they helped me many times.
Later, as the children grew up and began to earn money, it was easier, but I, with all my ability as a businessman, couldn't get myself settled in this country. In the city of Warsaw, where I lived before immigrating to America, there were times when things weren't too bad. In America, however, it always went badly and I haven't been able to adjust to the country.
Now, when my children are all married and in good positions, I got an idea that it might be good for me and my wife to go back to Warsaw. It is very hard to part with the children, but to live in poverty is also bad. It seems strange to me that I must go away from the free America in order to better my condition.
But the chances for me are still better there. I ask your advice and I thank you in advance.
Respectfully,
The Unlucky One
The advice to this letter writer is not to go back to Warsaw, because after so many years in this country he would feel like a stranger there. He must understand he is no longer the same man he was twenty-two years ago and the city of Warsaw is also not the same as it was in the past.