By S. Feldman
The rivers of tears that flowed from her swollen eyes had slowly ceased. Heaven had kissed them dry. “You must be strong,” the wind whispered. “Your children need you.”
Zelda and her wonderful husband lived with their three beautiful children and aging mother in a small hut on the outskirts of Mezhibuzh. Life was simple. Life was good.
Then illness intruded into their peaceful home, snatching her husband away. And she remained to pick up the broken pieces, attempting to slowly piece together her life again.
Like the eerie silence after a wild storm; the quiet nights would taunt her. “How are you going to provide for your family?” the darkness questioned. “How are going to manage alone?”
And it was then that heaven would whisper, “Don’t worry my daughter. A father never forsakes his children.”
***
Some would call it strong willed. Others would call it determined. All knew though, that when Yaakov wanted something, Yaakov got that something.
For the past forty days, Yaakov was on a mission. He fasted and begged. He studied Torah day and night. He poured out his soul in prayer to Hashem.
Nothing.
Not a glimpse.
Frustrated, he went to see his master, the holy Baal Shem Tov.
“Rebbe,” he pleaded. “I did all that I possibly could. I practically lived in the study hall! But nothing happened. I didn’t merit to see Eliyahu Hanavi!”
The Baal Shem Tov leaned back in his chair, his holy face aglow. A few thoughtful moments passed.
“I have just been told in the high heavens that Eliyahu will be spending Rosh Hashanah here in Mezhibuzh, at the far edge of the village.” The Baal Shem Tov said.
“At the edge of the village there also lives a poor widow with her children. Her husband passed away and they have nothing to eat for the upcoming festival. Go and spend Rosh Hashana with them and bring along a hearty feast. There you will find Eliyahu Hanavi.”
And so he did. He loaded his wagon with fresh, crusty loaves of challah, fish, chicken and bottles of sweet wine. He selected the choicest sweet apples, the finest honey, some exotic fruits and of course some good kokosh cake. At last, he set out on his way, a cloud of dust trailing behind him.
***
A chilly air blew the smell of fresh pine into their small hut. Her youngest swung back and forth on the swing tied to the large tree in the front yard. Golda, her neat braids tickling the tips of her shoulders, swept the dusty floor with a straw broom. Zushe polished the simple tin candlesticks, his little fingers reaching all the cracks and crevices. Zelda was scrubbing the white tablecloth, the warm water soothing her aching heart. Rosh Hashana was in the air.
Yet Zelda’s mother, like any good Yiddishe mama, was worried. “Tonight is yom-tov,” she stated the obvious. “What will we eat?”
Zelda sighed. “Mother, didn’t you always teach us that Hashem never forsakes his children? Don’t worry. Somehow Hashem will provide.”
***
Yaakov approached the edge of the village where the hustle and bustle gave way to tall trees and a scattering of small run-down homes.
He was looking for the last house at the edge of town. Through the thicket, he thought he heard the sounds of children frolicking in the yard. He noticed a boy on a swing. A girl with a broom.
“Could this be it? Why would Eliyahu Hanavi come here?” he dared to wonder. But a chassid never questions his Rebbe. So with determination in his step, he hopped off his horse and knocked on the door.
Zelda answered the door. “How may I help you?”
“I have come to ask if I could possibly spend Rosh Hashana with you and your family?”
“Yay! A guest! A guest!” Her children jumped up and down with glee.
Zelda smiled. “I can offer you a space to sleep with pleasure. I’m sorry though, I haven’t got even a morsel of food to share.”
“Oh, don’t worry about that! I brought enough for everyone!” he announced. Before she could protest, Yaakov had unloaded baskets of fresh food, the smell filling their small home with festivity and joy.
***
“Nothing can compare to the looks on the children’s faces when they saw the food I brought. We spent a wonderful yom-tov together; singing, eating, even studying Torah with the young boys.”
“In the quiet of night I awoke. I looked everywhere. I crept around the outside of the small hut. Even searching through the trees. But I couldn’t find Eliyahu Hanavi!” Yaakov concluded, frustrated.
“Aah,” sighed the Baal Shem Tov, his face resting against his holy hands. Silence ensued. “The only thing I can advise you, is to return on Erev Yom Kippur. Bring along a feast so that the poor widow and her family will have the strength to fast on the holy day. And there, your dreams will come true.”
Full of hope, Yaakov again filled his wagon with delicacies of all sorts and rode down the now-familiar path, heading towards the widow’s home.
***
The day of atonement was approaching. Zelda had gathered her children in a semi-circle and they were etching pictures in the sand. Pictures of things they could do better this year.
Her youngest drew a swing. “This year, I want to be able to touch the clouds!” Golda, ever thoughtful, drew lots of coins. “I want to have enough money to buy what we need and be able to give to others too .”Zushe drew a man with a long beard and big eyes. “I’m going to Daven for Tatty to come back home already! “Zelda stroked his cheek. “Me too sheifele, me too.”
Zelda’s mother interrupted them gently. “Soon will be Yom Kippur, “she turned to her daughter. “How will we have the energy to fast? What will we eat?’
***
Yaakov reached their small home. The sun’s rays shone through the slats in the window and he could see the family gathered inside.
“This is it! Today my dream will come true. “Excitement coursed through him as he jumped off his horse.
As he neared the door, he overheard the end of their conversation.
“…Don’t worry mama. Don’t you remember how Hashem sent us Eliyahu Hanavi before Rosh Hashana? I’m sure He won’t forsake us this time either…”
And Yaakov knocked. ■