At Kiwi Moshe, a group of women and their teacher have been studying together more than five years. JULIE WIENER StafrWriter Above: Nathan Roth: "They're the greatest bunch of ladies I've been associated with." Right: Anne Rottman and Marge Charnes listen as Nathan Roth explains a con- cept. Below: Dolores Greenspan, Marsha Trimas and Leba Rautbort enjoy a lighter moment in class. I t started out as a 10-week crash course in Hebrew literacy. But it kept on going. Almost six years after they first came together to decipher Hebrew words and phrases, five loyal learners — women who range in age from 30- something to 60-something — and their pro bono instructor, Nathan Roth, are still meeting every Sunday morning at 9:45. They gather around a table in class- room number nine at B'nai Moshe, set- ting down their styrofoam coffee cups and battered green Hebrew books. When the class began, none of the stu- dents could read Hebrew; now they tackle advanced grammar, but make time for the occasional digression. "It's a very informal class," said Roth. "Sometimes we diverge onto other subjects or talk about related things. But we make progress." On April 5, the class started out practicing Hebrew possessive nouns, then moved on to study the Passover Hagaddah. When they read the words to the song, "Dayenu," Marge Charnes called out, "Oh, so that's what the words look like. I always just sang it, but didn't know what it meant." This is the kind of moment that Roth gets up early for every Sunday. "It just gives me the greatest plea- sure inside when I cite a psuk (verse) from the service and they say, 'Oh that's what it means,' and it's words they've been saying all along, but they never understood," he said. Roth, 73, grew up a yeshiva bocher in Czechoslovakia, but his formal edu- cation was cut short by the Holocaust. He was deported to Auschwitz in 1944, and met his wife — also a sur- vivor — after the war in a displaced persons' camp in Germany. Several years ago, after a varied career as a ditch digger and plumber, Detroit Free Press advertising manager and finally vice president of W.B. Doner Advertising, Roth retired. But he remains active, playing a leadership role at B'nai Moshe, report- ing regularly for morning minyan and, of course, the Sunday morning class. "They're the greatest bunch of ladies I've ever been associated with," he said of his five students, adding that he looks forward to seeing them each week "And to me, two is a minyan. If just one per- son shows up, I will teach her." Fortunately for Roth, the class is usually full. His "bunch of ladies" are enthusiastic about Roth and the friend- ships they have forged. Anne Rottman never had a formal Jewish education and joined the class because she wanted to be able to help her son with his homework "I had dropped out of other classes before, but this group was very unintimidating and friendly," she said. Marsha Trimas, who wanted to learn to say Kaddish for her mother, was a latecomer to the class, but, she said, her fellow students made the adjustment easy "They were on page 83, and I was just starting," she recalled. "It was hard, but everyone helped me catch up. And because of the dynamics of this group I couldn't stop coming. I always leave here feeling better than when I came in." The class, which used to have two male students as well, meets year round. "We meet through the summer and never take a vacation," said Charnes. "When people need to go, they go. Then the class helps them catch up ... We always say Nathan's wife should appreciate us because we've made him a patient man." But Roth insists it's a labor of love, and points out that he's a student as well as a teacher each Sunday morning. One of his students, Leba Rautbort, teaches English grammar and composi- tion at Oakland University, and she helps Roth — who speaks three lan- guages in addition to Hebrew and English — fine-tune his English skills. "Leba's my professor," he laughed. "Without her, I wouldn't know a verb from a proverb." ❑ 4/24 1998 25