7th January, 1916

My golden little mouse! From the long intervals between my "letters" it will be obvious that I do not sit down with this book very often. It's not as if the dear custom had lost its charm but that I rarely have the necessary peace or even time for writing. Often, when I am suddenly gripped by "home-sickness", which is in fact identical with pure yearning for you and the children, I feel the urge to start writing, but my emotions are so ingratiating and comforting that I wish to make full use of them, so I usually lie down on the bed and dream with open eyes about the past and future happiness. When I ultimately decide to write, the mood is mostly gone or something else intervenes, and this is exactly what happened to me yesterday.

Several times I had the book already in my hands but I could never start writing. And just yesterday I had such a strong desire for a nice long chat with you. Surely you must have also been thinking of me because yesterday it was 7 years since we came together - and two of those we have now lost. But not completely lost! In recent times I have realised what you mean for me, often in difficult instants and hours I have been raised by the mere thought of you and, as I have said several times, you alone are the sun in whose shadow and light I can live. But you too, my darling, shall be recompensed for all you have suffered for me and through me. I will do all that is in my powers to repay to you what I owe you, to prove to you that there is nothing on earth that I would value more than you. So patience please; new happiness for us will certainly come!

You see that's how it goes! I wanted to write very, very much but my eyes hurt and I must finish; it is also very late. Farewell darling, I kiss you and the beloved children.

© The estate of Otto Feldmann: Monica Lanyado, Tzafrah Shushan and Aya Shochat