The Town in the Density of the Forest by Yaacov Krepliak Translated from Hebrew by Daphna Brafman Coordinated by Tilford Bartman Zabludow synagogue with "rock of Sinai" 1.
We the children knew: whoever took even a tiny piece of wood from the synagogue is doomed; he shall die in the prime of his youth.
The synagogue still stands in its place. It exists for hundreds of years; it's building, made of wood, stems from the deep; from the middle of the sandy valley it stands high above the roofs of the town. Beautifully carved and sculptured it's sharpened roof reaches heaven, and in it are many small towers, and small rooms and windows in the shape of the Shield of David. In the old walls, gray as the color of ashes, holes were drilled, through which birds fly freely in and out of the synagogue.
In a distance of few footsteps, behind the eastern wall there is a tiny and narrow cemetery, surrounded by a fence. We the children knew: whoever climbs over the fence is doomed. He shall die in the prime of his youth. A hidden force attracted us to the fence; we greatly longed to climb over it; in the summer it was the only green place in this sandy valley and it was full with wildflowers that climbed over the fence. In the winter it was covered with snow, white and brighter than other places. But we knew that here a bride and groom who had just been married were brought to the Israel tomb and one should not disturb their eternal rest.
Behind the town the old forest occupied the horizon and it gets closer to town. It is already very close. From all possible sides there are paths that can hardly be seen, paths covered by shadows and mysterious. They curve and wave among the bushes and ants and by forest lakes, and lead to the depth of the forest- to the high mountain with steps made of roots- to the cabin in the forest with its closed window.
When we once came there as a group our hearts pounded with fear. None dared come alone. The cabin was surrounded with an atmosphere of secrecy and festivity. The forest hugged it with true love and loyalty. Two oak trees, standing between proud cedars, stretched their sectioned hands above the low roof and as friends do laid them around its shoulder and the hands are tight together protecting the cabin. We, the boys, did not bother the cabin. We did not try to break through its sealed windows in order to find what's inside it. We were afraid. Nobody warned us, but there was the disturbing thought that perhaps we shall be doomed.
For many generations things were happening.
The dark thick forest stretched out far. The night should never come out of its depth. Covered with secret it looks always at the white world.
The forest is buzzing, singing and raging. Birds fly through the green sky; the quick and graceful doe runs around. Wild bulls breaks through thick bushes. The bear walks tenderly all bent. Somewhere the wolf knocks his teeth and the awl sleeps on the branch with eyes opened; inside the forest the "forester" walks and makes noise. Fire crackers play with wandering walkers who lost their way, tempting them to go into the heart of the forest, lead them round and round until they bring them to the swamp. And the town lost the way and was stuck in the forest. A cabin was erected and another one after that, and there were more and they connected and formed crooked streets. Jews were living in the middle and gentiles at the edges. Quiet Jews live there, set in their minds, merchants of wheat, barley, making shoes, sewing cloths, paying taxes to the Earl of the town, waiting for the coming of the messiah and sticking to god. Ordinary working people.
More simple and humble is the old Rabbi. Jews call him R. Yoseleh with much love; his mouth is blessed; his words are obeyed. But things aren't good for the Jews of the town. The Earl of the town harasses them; from time to time raises taxes and turns the gentiles against them. The gentiles harass the Jews because they want the Earl to like them- the Jews sigh wait for the messiah and cling to god.
2.
Night. The eve of Passover.
The Rabbi isn't sleeping. Behind the cabin the forest is noisy. The book is open; a lamp casts shadow and light over the yellow pages and the gray beard.
The Rabbi sn't sleeping. The forest is full of noise. A light breeze runs around at night and quiet sighs are heard. Sighs from deep inside. It's the Rabbi who sighs. His clear forehead wrinkles with thoughts, "how hard is the life of a Rabbi whose mouth contains god's words. Much suffering he saw, torture and troubles."
This causes him grief, but not for that he sighs. " It's already hard to go for isolation in the forest at dawn, legs don't obey anymore"… But not for that he sighs. He knows "the spirit yearns for the heavens and the hunchbacking body is attracted to the ground"… Not for that reason the Rabbi sighs; no, a good day is coming close, the kosher Passover is approaching and the old Earl, owner of the town, harasses the Jews. They are under his rule.
The lamp is burning. Shadows of sorrow run around, shadows of suffering and the lips utter: god of our fathers! Hear my prayer; soften the heart of the Earl, take from him his wickedness.
The Rabbi isn't sleeping. The forest is roaming. A light breeze is moving at night and silent sighs are heard, deep sighs. The Rabbi sighs.
3.
Immediately in the morning, on the first day of Passover Jews came running to Rabbi Yoseleh: " Rabbi, the gentiles threw hametz* to all the wells; there is no drinking water"
R. Yoseleh touched his beard: "This is a trial, that god is trying us. Therefore draw water from your wells". The men stood the entire day of festival and drew water from the wells and the following day again a scare in town. " The wells again became hametz. The gentiles threw wheat and other grains inside…rabbi s disaster' the wells again became hametz…the rabbi wrinkles his face from sorrow:
- Jews, draw again the water! -
And such day after day, the entire festival. And day after day they run to the Rabbi; Rabbi, save us, no more strength to draw the water; no one left to draw; we are all ill. We haven't yet tasted the taste of the festival.
And on the last day of Passover, when again they came with the bad news R. Yoseleh was filled with anger. He stood up and with grief said: Master of the universe! What do they want from us? They have destroyed our holiday…" He added no more. Just asked the Jews to go back and draw more water; We must draw to the base.
And suddenly in the middle of the night terrible sounds were heard from the streets of the gentiles. The bells began sounding at the church. Redness covered the skies and it soon became brighter and more frightening. People dressed with strange clothes are suddenly jumping from darkness unto the bright air. Half-naked they run and their faces are perverted; they run with frightened eyes into the darkness.
And with the spreading fire, carried to the heart of heaven is the outcry of the people; children's cry is heard, lambs and cows cry; the horses ride wildly and the dogs follow them.
And suddenly, at desperation they all hung their hope in one word: "water!"
Heart tearing voices reached the skies full of flames: Help, water! Gentiles running, Jews running; help! Water! The wells are empty; very little water is left at the bottom of the wells, and the fire covers the town. The flame jumps from one straw roof to a second straw roof, with no mercy it casts the night away and by every roof the wild cry is heard again: wow, wow!
The gentiles, confused, perplexed, lacking advice. Only the Jews run back and forth; they bring from their homes all the water they saved, but could this bring any help? And the skies become brighter and more awful.
Suddenly one word fell: The Rabbi!
Did a Jew say that? Did a gentile say that? No one knows. But immediately all begged and shouted: bring R. Yoseleh here. By midnight they brought him to the fire dressed in kitel and wrapped with his talit. And the Rabbi raised his voice: Jews, come to me! All gathered around him. And he approached and requested: -Sires, any whose heart is full with revenge desire shall cast it out; we shall pray together that god will save the town. R. Yoseleh stood before the fire and whispered prayer, and the gray beard moved… and Jews told later:
A miracle took place. Against their Rabbi's peaceful look the fire began to extinguish until it died completely.And the synagogue still stands on its ground. It has existed centuries. Its building, made of wood, comes out of the deep. From the middle of the valley of sand and is higher than all the roofs of the town. eautifully carved and sculptured its high and sharp roof climbs to the heavens and many are its tiny towers, rooms and windows shaped as Shield of David. In the old walls, gray as the color of ashes, holes were drilled, through which birds freely fly in and out of the synagogue. In the old synagogue there's a corner, there in a big lamp made of wood lights the eternal candle.
By the entrance there's a stone. We, the children, played on it "Mount of Sinai". The stone is a testimony that the synagogue is immortal. It guards the synagogue. As long as the stone will be there- the synagogue will stand on its ground.
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