WHEN Aaron Friedenwald of Baltimore, father of Dr. Harry Friedenwald, visited Palestine, and met Samson Benderly, he related to him the growing wonders of America, and the rriiracle of the machine. In later years Benderly told us that, as a boy, he had heard that in America bakes bread by machine, without the human hand ever touching it. He visioned in his mind's eye the all powerful machine, sowing the seed at end, and seeing the finished product, the rich brown loaf of bread, wrapped and ready to be eaten, emerging at the other. He felt he had to come to this land of miracles to see for himself. After his graduation from Beirut College, he came via steerage to America, enduring physical hardship—but he came. He settled in Baltimore, the home of the Friedenwalds who set the tone for fine Jewish living in that city. Aaron Friedenwald was the founder and the first President of the Hebrew Education Society; and his son, Harry, an older contemporary of Benderly became his life-long friend. Benderly had enrolled as a student in the College of Physicians and Surgeons. He was making medicine his career. But he was drawn to Jewish education, particularly after the pogroms in Russia, when many Russian Jewish immigrants settled in Baltimore which was a seaport town. A Jewish school for the children of these immigrants was being organized in the old Eden St. Schul, whose Rabbi was Dr. Shneeberger, a friend of my grandfather's. He offered Benderly the use of the basement vestry rooms for that school. My mother, whose family was growing by leaps and bounds, was persuaded by my grandfather to send us to that Sabbath School, so called because the classes were held on Sabbath afternoons. At first, my mother demurred. She was afraid it might be one of those missionary schools that were springing up all over the city. She was determined to employ a private teacher, a Rebbi, both for the boys and the girls, at home where she could supervise our religious education and help us with our lessons. But my grandfather assured her that the Friedenwalds were very much interested in the new school; that Aaron Friedenwald was to be its new President, and that they had imported a Principal from Palestine, a fine religious teacher, who spoke loshon ha-kodesh fluently, and who was known to be a scholar and a good teacher. My mother compromised. She would allow only the girls to go to that school. The boys had to be taught by a Rebbi at home. My mother brought my sister and me to the school to be enrolled. She was deeply impressed with Mr. Benderly. They became life-long friends, and he had great respect for her. The respect came because she could produce a child every year, 13 in all. His ambition was to produce a good teacher every year! Besides, her sense of humor matched his; and his sense of humor was priceless. Though my mother was deeply impressed, my sister and I were thoroughly scared, for Benderly was a sight to behold. He was short and thin and looked like a scare-crow. His hair was pitch black, and contrary to anything we had ever seen, was parted straight down the middle. He wore ear locks (peoth concealed under his black hat) and a short pointed beard; and his glasses were thick and always slid down his nose. His coat which was much too big for him, came down to his boot tops, and he kept his hands in his sleeves to keep them warm.