Max Nordau, a handwritten and hand-signed letter. Paris, 1900. German. No receiver's name. Nordau writes in length about his mother who recently died: "she was my living bond to the Jewish people. Thanks to my mother I am Jewish, and not thanks to my father who taught me Hebrew, and who wrote Hebrew…" Nordau ends his letter with a poem he wrote, most probably after his mother's funeral (Today I followed you, as once in my childhood, when my hand held fast onto your dress, drawn through the chaotic turmoil of the streets,  my eyes were fastened on you. I did not pay attention to the way, the direction,  I was sure of the goal as I was of your love and reached with you the unknown goal,  and it was cheerfulness, and it was play if on the market if with friends, or under  Today you lead me to a quiet place there you left me without a last word the way home I had to find alone the garden's linden trees).