In the winter of 1912, working as a vendor out in the cold I got very sick. I couldn't go to a doctor becuse I didn't have enough money. I lived in a small, cramped, and cold apartment better than the tenements but still not very pleasant for a sick man. I had no children and little food, which quickly dwindled to none. Despite this a small child, unkown to me, would come nearly everyday and give me bread and water. I didn't know the little boy but he looked like a fellow Russian and Jew.