Ami magazine ran an article as follows:
A young girl of rebbishe yichus was separated from her family during the war. She made it to a DP camp in Italy, the rest of her surviving family made it to DP camps elsewhere (but neither knew of each other).
Thinking that she was the only survivor, she married a “fine, simple, erlich man, but no yichus” (I forgot her exact words, but this was the jist of it).
Fast forward to her arrival in the USA, and lo and behold!; much of her family survived!
So, what to do about Mr. Simple, Erlich (but no yichus) Husband? Being the mentch that she was, she stayed with him, despite the uncomfortable circumstances.
She then proceeds to live for the next 60+ years, never really being happy about her lot, all because of the “yichus” she allowed to slip away from her.
Its not until her husband is dying, that she realizes how silly she was, and how good a person he was, despite not having numerous titles before and after his name. Talk about a sad story
I have no yichus to brag about. But there are things in my family’s past I am VERY proud about. Things that they accomplished on their own, despite the challenges they faced.
And looking back (when I hit the elter zeidi years) the things I will be most proud of, will be the things my family has yet to achieve.