I’m sure you enjoyed reading my previous article about what happened to us in old Sholom’s printing house. I am happy to report that the “Adventures of Shmuli and Berel in Sholom’s Print House,” if I can call it that, have not ended. All our friends in class already knew just how we bravely snuck into the print shop and managed to solve the difficult mystery that disturbed the peace of all who lived in our quiet house … (okay, now I’m writing exaggeratedly, like those who tell stories …).
Anyway, Sholom (the suspender man) fascinated us so much that our previous visit made us want to visit him again. So a week later, Shmuli and I decided that it was time for another royal visit. When I say “royal,” I mean that this time, we would not hide behind a machine or something like that, but would show up for a polite visit and extract (or at least try to extract) trade secrets from Sholom. We set out in the hopes that Sholom would not chase us away like he once did.
We were greeted with the roar of the machines as we walked into the print shop. Sholom’s two eyes were piercing and for a moment we were frightened, but we immediately recovered and I said, “Hello Sholom. You know, the invitations that you printed for my bar mitzva were so impressive that all my friends immediately asked where I had them printed.” As I spoke, I noticed from the corner of my eye that Shmuli’s lips were moving. I guess he was whispering a chapter of T’hillim for the success of our visit.
Sholom glowered and then his mouth opened and a small smile appeared.
“We did it!” whispered Shmuli excitedly. “I can’t believe it happened!”
Sholom made believe that he hadn’t heard Shmuli’s loud whisper and asked me somewhat sarcastically, “So what did you tell them, that Sholom printed the invitations and miraculously, he did not manage to ruin them?
“I see that you are Chassidishe kids with heads on your shoulders,” continued Sholom, who had turned into a sweet grandpa. “I have a challenge for you.”
We perked up, being the curious types, and listened closely. Sholom pointed toward the left of the shop and said, “You see that machine over there? It is now printing a book that is different than all the books you know. If you can discover what book it is, who it is meant for and what it does to bring the Geula, I will print the invitations for the next bar mitzva in your class or for any event you pick, free.”
We went over with Sholom to the odd looking machine and he took a paper out of a pile that was lying on the side. He gave it to us and said, “You have until tomorrow night to come back to me with answers.” We left the print shop as we wracked our brains trying to figure it out: a strange book in which nothing was written, that only had holes as though mice had nibbled at it.
The next day, during recess, I told the class about the strange book that old Sholom was printing. When they heard the prize that he offered, everyone tried to solve the mystery. Half the day passed and we hadn’t even come up with a small piece of the solution.
The school day ended and Shmuli and I were on our own. After a lot of thought, we decided to go to the library. Maybe we’d solve the mystery there. We walked in and saw a librarian with a medium sized beard. He directed us to the second floor, the last shelf on the right side. “When you get there, you will see what you need to do,” he said.
We quickly walked along the hallways and after a brief search we arrived at the right shelf. I looked right and left and noticed something odd. A man sat near one of the tables. In front of him was a book and his fingers tapped on it as he stared into space.
“Look at how he’s reading,” I whispered to Shmuli. He was also surprised by this peculiar sight.
“I know what it is,” Shmuli suddenly whispered to me. “The man is blind and he cannot read the usual way. The book in front of him is made especially for the blind. Let’s see whether the page Sholom gave us looks like this man’s book.”
We walked near the table and saw that our page was just like his book. We suddenly heard a voice saying, “Hello there.” We jumped in fright and then realized that it was the blind man who had heard our footsteps. We began talking to him and told him why we had come to the library.
“Put your paper on the book in front of me,” he asked. We placed the page on his book, hoping it wasn’t upside down, and he began to quickly touch it. “Ah,” he said, “It’s a Tanya. Here … ‘Chapter 1 of Tanya, at the end of chapter 3 of Nida, he is made to take an oath, be a tzaddik and do not be a rasha …’”
“We’ve answered one question then,” said Shmuli. We wanted to thank the man and hurry home, hoping my father would be able to help us solve the other questions. But the man continued speaking, “I wasn’t born in a Chassidic home, but I always heard about the Tanya and wanted to learn it because I heard that the Baal Shem Tov went to Moshiach’s chamber and asked him when he is coming. Moshiach told him: When your wellsprings spread outward. That means that only when the wellsprings of Chassidus spread to everyone everywhere Moshiach will come. So I simply wanted to hasten Moshiach’s coming.
“But as you surely realize, I could not learn Tanya because I cannot read regular print. One day, I heard that the Tanya had been printed in Braille which is special writing for the blind. After learning the book, I became a Chassid. Later on, I heard that the Rebbe said in one of his talks that after the Tanya was printed in Braille so that even the blind can learn Chassidus, the spreading of the wellsprings necessary for Moshiach’s coming was already completed and nothing can delay his coming.”
The man paused and then said, “That, in short, is the story of the page you have. I hope I’ve been of help.”
We thanked him and rushed to Sholom’s print shop with the answers. On the way I thought, I sure hope that the invitations that Sholom prints will be the invitations to the biggest event in the world: kabbalas p’nei Moshiach Tzidkeinu!