Chocolates for Rachel

Chocolates for Rachel

The Clark candy shop on the corner of Bradley and Ninth opened its doors at the same location seventy-seven years ago. Janice Ellinger runs the store now, but her grandfather, Weldon, opened it at the end of 1945, right after he came home from serving in the US Army in WWII. Chocolate bars were a favorite amongst the battle-hardened troops and Weldon claimed a candy bar saved his life. He never explained the story behind his claim. He just smiled and went about whatever he was doing. But, who’s to argue the point with a man who had seen what he’d seen or done what he’d done?

The rear of the shop is where the magic happens. The mixers, candy forms, melting pots, and cooling tables. Bags and jars of cocoa, sugar, vanilla, flavors, and nuts. As the chocolate melts and the ingredients are mixed, the shop fills with the aroma of the latest creation. The scent of vanilla, toffee, or roasted almonds engulfs the entire shop, escaping out of the front door each time it opens, inviting passersby to stop for a treat. 

The store was never big, with its six round tables each covered with blue and white plaid tablecloths. Four white metal chairs, the kind you find in old ice cream shops, surround every table. Only a stainless steel rectangular napkin holder adorns the center of each table. Walter insisted that each new patron be treated to a sample before they buy. It cut down a little on the profit but created loyal patronage and even when times were hard, the little candy shop had a line out of the door on the weekends and holidays.

The glass display case is fifteen feet across, and each of the four glass shelves competes with the others for the best variety of delectable options. 

Chocolate delights with Pecans, Walnuts, Almonds, or Peanuts

Chocolate delights with caramel, toffee, nougat, or buttercream

Chocolate delights with butterscotch, coconut, strawberry, or peppermint

Chocolate Fudge, Peanut Butter Cups, Truffles, or Cherry Cordials 

Milk Chocolate, Dark Chocolate, White Chocolate, or the newer Ruby Chocolate

Eager young workers collect orders behind the case, carefully boxing up candies, or placing them on a paper plate if the buyer prefers to sit at a table and indulge straight away. Janice works the cash register at the end of the case and puts a top on each box. She ties the box with a special red bow that her grandmother, Nadine (Grandma Deenie to her beloved grandchildren), insisted adorn every box. “It makes the box special,” she would say. “Otherwise, it’s just a box.”

Trish started only two weeks ago, working at the counter and taking phone orders as needed. Valentine’s Day is tomorrow and the little shop has been incredibly busy with pre-orders for pickup on the day for lovers. 

“Excuse me, Janice. I have a Mr. Rosenstein on the phone ordering a box of Pecan Toffee Praline Clusters. I told him we don’t make those, but he said to ask you.”

“Yes, Trish. Please take that order and give it to Randall. He’ll take care of it.” Randall is Janice’s husband. They met at the shop when he came to work for Janice’s grandfather forty years ago. Randall fell in love with the chocolate as much as he fell for Janice. Well, almost as much.

Trish returns to her phone call. “Okay, Mr. Rosenstein. Janice says Randall will take care of this for you.”

“God Bless you, dear,” says the man on the phone.

“Oh, well thank you, sir. God Bless you too.” Though she’s not sure why, Trish feels a little surprised by the blessing. It’s just candy, right? But that is a sweet-sounding old man.

“Janice, I took the order from Mr. Rosenstein. What price should I put on the order?”

“No charge on that order, Trish. Let’s just make sure it gets in the heart-shaped box.”

Trish sports a questioning look. The mystery consumes her as to the specialty of this order and wanting to know why it's the only order that goes in a heart-shaped box at a candy store on Valentine’s Day. “Janice, I know I’ve only been here a couple of weeks, but may I ask you about Mr. Rosenstein and this special order?”

Janice smiles a knowing smile. “Mr. Rosenstein will be here tomorrow at 8:15 am to pick up his order. Why don’t you sit with him and he can tell you?”

“Okay,” responded Trish, confused and with a myriad of possibilities in her mind.

Trish wakes the next morning, early and alone, in her studio apartment. Valentine’s Day. A day for love, if you have someone to share it with, she thinks. What about the rest of us? Trish has been alone in her new town for six months. She moved here for school and has no friends in this new place. I need to meet with Mr. Rosenstein this morning. What’s the big deal with these chocolates?

Trish wears her favorite purple sweater this morning since there is a chill in the air. There’s nothing particularly lovely about the sweater, but it’s soft and warm and fits just right. She arrives at the candy shop right at 8:00 am, puts her purse away in the back, and begins her work. There are a few early morning shoppers, but many more will stop on their way home to pick up some chocolate delicacies for their sweethearts. 

At 8:15 am on the nose, an elderly man walks into the store. He walks slowly with a cane, and a slight forward lean. He wears a long black coat, a black fedora over his thin white hair, and black-rimmed glasses. He looks as though he may have been handsome in his youth, but that is decades behind him. Still, he has an easy smile that pushes his cheeks up and makes his eyes narrow. Lines on his skin of a long-life lived. His face is inviting.

Trish approaches him. “Good morning sir, are you Mr. Rosenstein?”

“Yes, I am young lady. What is your name?” he answers with a slight German accent.

“Hi, I’m Trish. Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll get your order for you?”

“Thank you, dear.”

Trish smiles and helps him as he slowly takes a seat at a corner table. 

Janice comes from the back and exclaims, “Mr. Rosenstein!” She hurries over to him and gives him a strong hug and a kiss on the cheek. Trish sees her quietly sharing information with the man but can’t hear the conversation. They both look at Trish. His engaging smile grows even bigger and his eyes sparkle at whatever words she’s whispering.

Trish waits to approach the two until beckoned. “Sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Quite alright, young lady,” Mr. Rosenstein responds.

Janice quietly speaks to Trish, “Take however much time you two need. Stay on the clock.”

“Yes ma’am,” she responds. They’re going to pay me to talk to this man?

Trish hands the large heart-shaped box of chocolates to Mr. Rosenstein. He says, “I understand you want to know about my special order.”

“Yes, sir. If it’s okay for me to pry.”

“My dear, I will take any chance I can get to talk about my Rachel. Please, have a seat. I love your sweater. Purple was Rachel’s favorite color.”

Trish sits opposite the sweet old man and sees his eyes begin registering scenes from the past.

He begins his tale, “To really know about these chocolates, you have to know the entire story. Rachel and I grew up in the small town of Todtnau, Germany. It was very close to the border of Germany and Switzerland and it is one of the most beautiful places on earth. My father owned a hotel there and Rachel’s father owned a candy store and bakery. It was another time in the sometimes horrible history of man. The Nazis had taken control of Germany and were trying to control the world. I know you have learned about them in your history classes.”

“Eventually, they began taking away all the possessions and businesses of the Jewish people in the lands they controlled. And they came to Todtnau. They gave my father’s hotel to a man who already owned another hotel in town. He and my father were friends, and the man didn’t want to accept the stolen gift, but he had no choice. My father continued to work at the hotel and the man paid him as if he was still the owner. The Nazis found out and shot them both in the street in front of the hotel.”

“Oh, my goodness!” exclaims Trish.

“Rachel’s father also had his business taken from him. He was a master chocolatier for such a small village and he continued to work there as well as Rachel. She had worked there since she was only eight and loved the chocolate.” He has a distant look as he peers almost eighty years into his past.

“Rachel and I fell in love. You should have seen her. She was a beautiful woman. The most beautiful girl in all of Germany. We married when we were only seventeen. She worked at the chocolate shop and bakery and I worked at a tailor’s store. We had almost no money, but it didn’t matter. As long as I had my Rachel and God to look over us, I had all I needed.”

Trish sits quietly, captivated by the love story and the old history of this man.

Mr. Rosenstein sours somewhat, with memories not as dear, “The Germans had been rounding up Jews for years, but not in Todtnau. I guess we were so small, they hadn’t gotten to us yet. They had started in the cities and worked their way out to all the corners of their lands. And then one day they came to Todtnau. We tried to hide, but we were found. They told us we could take a suitcase with our belongings, they were just relocating us, so we packed up what we could. At the train, they forced us into dirty boxcars, standing shoulder to shoulder with no room to sit or lie down. We stood for hours until the train stopped and we got off at a concentration camp. They stripped us of our possessions and separated us. The women went to one part of the camp and the men to another. The Nazis forced us into labor and moved us from camp to camp. I did not know if she was still alive or where she might be. They moved me to Dachau in early 1945. I prayed to God every day, even after I was taken. They can keep you from praying out loud, but they cannot control your thoughts,” he emphasized with a finger in the air.

“In the last few days, the Germans were acting very odd. They appeared frightened. We had no idea that they were losing the war. They took many of us and started marching out of Dachau, but I was left at the camp with others. Then one day the Americans came. I remember I was sitting next to a fence. I had not eaten since the Germans left two days before and I was very weak. When they first took us, I weighed one-hundred and eighty pounds. I weighed half of that when the Americans freed us.” He pats his stomach. “HA! Who would guess that to look at me now?!”

“A young American soldier, about my age, I had guessed, approached me. This young man had a terrible sadness in his eyes from the horrors he was seeing in this camp. He gave me his canteen of water and a chocolate bar.” He laughs, thinking of the small chocolate bar. “It was the greatest thing I had ever eaten, or at least could remember eating. I spoke a little English and said ‘God Bless You’ and asked who he was. He said his name was Corporal Weldon Clark, from Texas. He asked me who I was, so I told him and asked if he could find my wife, Rachel. I had no clear thoughts, no genuine hope that this man could find my Rachel, and didn’t believe she was even at this camp. I expected this man to say no, but instead, he grabbed another, even younger soldier and said to him, ‘watch over this man.’”

“Corporal Clark walked away from me and went to where the Germans kept the women. A while later, I saw him returning. He was carrying something in his arms. As he came closer, I could see it was a woman, but I couldn’t let myself hope. He came even closer, and he was smiling ear to ear. God had answered my prayers. The soldier was carrying my Rachel! Praise God, she was alive!”

Tears are flowing from Trish's eyes as she sits across from this man, listening to him as he remembers the worst and best days of his life. 

“Corporal Clark took us both to get medical care and checked on us over the next couple of days before his unit had to move out. He gave me a paper with his name, address, and phone number in America and said if we ever got to America, we were welcome in his home. Again, I said ‘God Bless You’ to which put his hand on my shoulder and said, ‘He already did.’”

“Well, we emigrated to America many months later. When we arrived, we called the phone number and found that Weldon had just been released from the Army and had only recently returned home. He invited us to stay with them until we could find work. And find it we did. We had no money but found that Weldon had grown a great fondness of chocolate in the Army. He used to say that it saved him, though nobody knew exactly what that meant. He said he wanted to open a chocolate shop and sell candy. When Rachel heard this, she exploded with joy and shared her history with her father. Weldon and Rachel spent many hours in the kitchen making different kinds of chocolate treats while the shop was being renovated. I think I got fat tasting all of their experiments!” He laughs as hard as he can. Pointing to the front of the store, he continues, “Within weeks, there were people streaming through those very doors for the delicious treats that Rachel and Weldon were creating. One special treat ‌Rachel had invented was this Pecan Toffee Praline Cluster. It was her favorite and was a big hit with the customers. They even called it ‘The Rachel.’”

“Fifteen years ago, Rachel left to be with God. Weldon felt great sadness and decreed that no longer would they sell this candy in the store. It would be only for me on Valentine’s Day and August 14th, Rachel’s birthday, exactly six months later. The tortures the Nazis inflicted on my Rachel ensured she would have no children, so Weldon’s family had become our own. Weldon passed away one month after Rachel and Nadine soon after. I am ninety-eight years old. Soon I will go to be with God and with Rachel. I will see my friends again, my parents. But in the meantime, I will enjoy this thing that connects us all,” he says as he gently places his hand on the box.

Trish has tears rolling down her face. Mr. Rosenstein removes a napkin from the stainless steel holder on the table and hands it to her. “No more tears, young lady. You are too lovely to be crying on Valentine’s Day.” He opens the heart-shaped box, removes the biggest of the treats, and hands it to her. “God Bless you for listening to an old man’s story.”

“God Bless you as well, Mr. Rosenstein.” 

“He has, my dear. Many times over.”

A handsome young man enters the store. “Ready when you are, Mr. Rosenstein.”

“Thank you, Patrick.” He turns to Trish. “This is my driver, Patrick. Patrick, this is Trish.”

Patrick reaches out and gently takes her hand and says, “Very nice to meet you, Trish.”

“You as well,” she answers, still wiping tears caused by the tale.

“He told you about his Rachel, didn’t he?” says Patrick with a blinding smile and a wink. Trish just nods, afraid of the tears beginning anew.

Mr. Rosenstein rises slowly and says, “Well, we must go. I have to get some of these treats to Rachel.” He gets Janice’s attention. “Janice. Thank you for this treasure and thank Randall for his hard work. God Bless you both.”

“God Bless you, Mr. Rosenstein. Please stop by anytime.”

He gently waves as Patrick escorts him out to the large black Lincoln Continental and helps him into the back seat. Patrick exchanges words with Mr. Rosenstein who reaches out and touches his face. Patrick re-enters the store and approaches Trish. “Trish, if you don’t have any plans this evening, would you like to go to dinner?”

“I would love to,” she answers.

“Great! I’ll pick you up at 6:00.” She smiles and gives him her address.

Patrick leaves as Trish looks out of the window to see Mr. Rosenstein leaning forward in his seat and looking at her. He kisses his hand and waves it at her before sitting back in his seat with that wonderful smile.