by Sylvie Weil
Then there is silence, and the sky, despite what Miriam and her friend have just said, grows even darker, and a second star appears.
But suddenly there is the sound of voices from the street and a shout from Zipporah.
“Here comes the master! Here is Judah ben Nathan! Thank heaven! He looks hot; he must have been walking fast!”
Miriam jumps up, sidesteps her friend, pushes the servants out of the way, and, followed by Precious and Elvina, runs toward the courtyard, where her husband has already arrived. Samuel and Yom Tov are leaping around Judah, welcoming him noisily like a couple of puppies.
He smiles quite cheerfully at Miriam. “As soon as I entered the town I was told you had returned.” He looks tired, but only because of his long walk. He has pushed back his cape, and his face glows with color.
For the second time that day, Solomon ben Isaac is running home. He heads straight for his son-in-law and takes him by the shoulders. “I’m glad to see you, my son. Now I can tell you how worried I was!”
They have brought Judah ben Nathan everything he needs to wash his hands and face. He sits down at the table, and they serve him a good meal, while Miriam pours out wine. Elvina has never seen her father eat and drink with such relish. The whole family is standing around him, eager to hear everything he has to say.
Solomon ben Isaac is giving Judah time to get his strength back, but not for a second does he take his eyes off his son-in-law’s face.
“From the way you look, I suppose that your mission went off without a hitch. Tell us all about it, my son; you can see we’re dying to hear.”
So Judah tells his story.
“As soon as we had left the outskirts of town, a small group of Crusaders joined us. They were polite young men from good families, judging from the way they spoke. They weren’t like those brutal ruffians who steal sheep and terrify the villagers. One of these young men, a lad called Robert —”
Elvina lets out a little gasp. Judah stops speaking and looks at her. He raises his eyebrows, then continues.
“So, this lad, Robert, said that he would escort us to Peter the Hermit’s headquarters. I was too busy thinking about our mission to wonder where this unexpected help had come from. I just thanked young Robert and also the Almighty. We walked along the fields and then entered the forest. There a band of villains fell upon us. They were armed with sticks and knives. They were yelling that the Jews had kidnapped a Christian boy by the name of Gauthier and that we would pay for this crime with our lives. Robert stood in front of us. He had his hand on his sword, and so did his companions. They looked impressive, I can tell you. The villains stopped shouting, and he spoke to them saying, ‘Gauthier is my brother. He was not kidnapped; he ran away. And he was cared for and fed in the Jewish neighborhood. These three Jews are thus entitled to our gratitude and our protection.’”
While Judah speaks they all hold their breath.
“Then what?” asks Samuel.
“Then he told them that we were on a mission to see Peter the Hermit and he asked them, or rather ordered them, to join us.”
Solomon asks what they were all burning to know.
“And did you see Peter the Hermit in person?”
“Yes. We gave him the purse and the letters addressed to our brothers in Germany. He looked at the letters and asked us to translate them. I did, and assured him that the Jewish communities in Germany would make sure he obtained provisions and money.”
Samuel and Yom Tov shout out together, “Was Peter the Hermit on his donkey?”
Judah gives a half smile, looking slightly annoyed. “I hope that you, too, aren’t going to ask me if that beast has the gift of language! I didn’t see the donkey. His master was sitting on a pile of wood. Even Peter the Hermit’s donkey must need a rest now and then!”
For a while, nobody speaks. The neighbors who have come to congratulate Judah ben Nathan leave. The night is falling. Everyone wants to hurry home before it gets completely dark.
Judah has finished his meal. “Who on earth, in our neighborhood, could have given shelter to that Gauthier?” he asks. “What Jew would dare take such a risk and put the whole community in danger? And why do such a thing?” He pauses for a moment before concluding, “What I do know is that whoever he was, I owe him my life.”
A hush falls over the room. Elvina is pressing both hands on the table to support herself. Her mother looks at her anxiously. “What’s the matter, my child? You look as if you’re going to faint!”
Solomon puts his arms around Elvina’s shoulders and speaks directly to Judah. “Judah, my son, now it is time for you to learn what I have known since yesterday.”
Judah’s eyes dart from Solomon to Elvina. He has grown very pale. Elvina thinks she will die, fall down and die, right here, right now. Miriam comes close and puts her arms around Elvina’s waist to hold her up. Solomon continues, “Your daughter has a generous heart. Because of that, she takes risks. It was the Lord’s will that, for the second time, her impetuousness be rewarded.”
Judah puts his head in his hands. “My daughter is crazy! She hid a Crusader?”
Elvina throws herself into her mother’s arms and sobs. She buries her face in Miriam’s shoulder; she is sure she is about to die. Then she hears a voice somewhere above her.
“Elvina saved your life. You’ve just said so; we heard you!”
These words have come from Miriam! Miriam is actually contradicting Judah ben Nathan! Elvina is so amazed that she raises her head.
Miriam pushes her daughter, shaking with hiccups and sobs, toward Judah. Judah places his hand on his daughter’s head and leaves it there. No one says a word. Even Samuel and Yom Tov are quiet. Elvina calms down, sniffs, and wipes her face with her sleeve. She doesn’t quite understand what is happening. In fact, nothing is happening. It is a moment of extraordinary peace. It seems to her that her father is swallowing hard; then, in an emotional and solemn voice, which Elvina has never heard him use before, Judah says, “Blessed be the Lord.” Then he looks at Miriam, and in his usual ironic tone he continues, “What a strange daughter the Almighty has sent us!”
XXIV
Two weeks have gone by since these frightening events shook our whole community and my family. Tomorrow there will be a new moon. In Troyes, we will celebrate it even more joyfully than usual, because the Crusaders have finally gone away. In two weeks’ time the moon will be full and we shall cel-ebrate Passover. We will remember that the Almighty led us out of Egypt, where we were slaves. And we will also remember that He didn’t allow the Crusaders to harm us. Now we will pray for our brothers in the German communities.
Peter the Hermit and his troops are making their way to Germany. I have been told that the roads are crowded with people. They form an endless and uninterrupted line of men and women, though I haven’t seen them myself. I am not allowed to walk out of the town. I must say that I miss my conversations with Gauthier. I hope that isn’t a sin!
One evening, as I was serving Judah ben Nathan his meal, he motioned me to stay by him. He looked at me with his ironic smile and said, “I have been given a message for my daughter.”
I was amazed. Who would be bold enough to use Judah ben Nathan as a messenger! And with a message for me! I said nothing. He continued, “It’s about your young protégé, Gauthier. His brother asked me to tell you that Gauthier obtained permission to go and study in the monastery. His uncles finally gave in to his determination. He thought you’d be pleased to hear it.” My father added, “I greatly fear that once he has studied long enough, he may use his knowledge against the Jews, to make fools of them and ridicule their faith. And I can tell you that Solomon ben Isaac would agree with me.”
I knew better than to answer back, but at the bottom of my heart I was sure that all his life Gauthier would defend the Jews and protect them in memory of me. Sometimes when I think of him, I see him again crying for his mother, and I cry a little, too.
There are two others who are crying today: Nao
mi and Rachel, for they are going back to their village tomorrow. Why are they crying? Because I will no longer be able to make them read every day as I have done until now.
“We will no longer be students,” they say miserably. “We will become just ordinary girls again.” And they start crying.
I told them to come every week for the Sabbath. “We won’t be able to write on the Sabbath,” I said. “But every week I’ll copy a passage from the Bible for you. We will read it and translate it so that you can learn it. I’ll copy longer and longer passages. You will still be my students.”
“Promise?” they said at the same time.
“I promise,” I replied. They got out the tablets I gave them. I copied out all the letters so they could practice when they returned home.
That afternoon, my grandfather, Solomon ben Isaac, came and asked my mother if he could take me for a little walk. There was laughter in his eyes, and Miriam’s eyes were also laughing. We walked toward the school.
On the way, I reminded Solomon ben Isaac that when I was little he always used to take advantage of our walks to teach me something.
He smiled and said, “Tomorrow will be the new moon; you’ll rest and have a nice time with your mother and your girlfriends. Why is that?”
I knew he was going to talk to me about the women’s special day of rest, but I said nothing.
He smiled, because my silence did not fool him. Then he took on the tone of voice he uses when he is about to tell one of his favorite stories. “I’m going to tell you what my old master used to say. ‘When the Jews had just left Egypt and were wandering in the desert, they asked Aaron to build the golden calf so they could worship it. They started by gathering together all their jewelry to be melted down to make the golden calf. But the women refused to give up their earrings, bracelets, and necklaces. As a reward, the Lord decreed that the first day of each month would be a day of rest for women, old and young alike.’” My grandfather added, “Tomorrow I want to see you having fun and resting, according to our tradition.”
We had arrived in front of the school and my grandfather sent a student to fetch Obadiah. Obadiah came out. He looked only at my grandfather, as if I were not standing there beside him.
“Obadiah ben Moyses, here is a student I highly recommend whenever her duties as future mistress of a house leave her the time to come and listen to you,” my grandfather said, his eyes sparkling.
Obadiah blushed. He gave a little bow but still did not look at me; then he went back inside the school. Grandfather and I left. Solomon had asked me to write a few letters for him. I noticed that he stooped a little and, when he wasn’t looking at me, his eyes were full of sorrow. I took his hand. “My grandfather looks sad,” I said.
“I won’t hide from you that I am worried about our German brothers. My old fellow students and their families live in Worms and Mainz. It was God’s wish that our community be spared. We pray every day that He show the same compassion to our German brothers.” He pinched my cheek. “You are too young to be sad. When I look at you, my heart grows lighter. Do you realize that your old grandfather is looking forward to dancing at your wedding? Don’t make him wait too long!”
My wedding? Mazal, did you hear that?
Dear, dear Mazal!
Afterword
This story takes place in the town of Troyes (pronounced “twah”) in the region of Champagne, in France, during the spring of 1096. Troyes was a medium-sized town, with a population of three or four thousand people, including a community of about four hundred Jews. Many were craftspeople, but most of them had vineyards and produced wine used by both Jews and Christians.
Solomon ben Isaac was born in Troyes in 1040. He studied for several years in the great Jewish academies of Mainz and Worms, in Germany. He then returned to Troyes, where he taught in his own academy, or yeshivah, which became very famous.
Solomon realized that Jews were forgetting Hebrew, the language of the Bible, and also Aramaic, the language of the Talmud, so that it was becoming increasingly difficult for them to read their holy books. His precise and detailed commentaries soon became so famous, that Jews made copies of them to take wherever they traveled and settled and wouldn’t dream of studying without them. This is still true today. Both the Bible and Talmud are published with his commentary printed in smaller characters below or alongside the text.
Solomon ben Isaac died in Troyes in 1105. He is known under the name of Rashi, which is the acronym of Rabbi Shlomo Yitzhaki, his Hebrew name.
Solomon ben Isaac had no sons, but he had three daughters, Miriam, Yochebed, and Rachel, and several grandchildren. Two of his grandsons became particularly famous rabbis and commentators: the oldest of Yochebed’s sons, Samuel ben Meir, known as Rashbam, and the youngest, Jacob ben Meir, known as Rabbenu Tam.
His granddaughter Elvina was highly regarded during her lifetime for her knowledge and wisdom, but she did not leave a written work for us to read.
In the early months of 1096, the first Crusade began. The pope, Urban II, had called on Christians to march to the Holy Land and conquer the Christian Holy Places (among them the tomb of Jesus) and take them back from the Muslims.
The Crusaders first gathered in France. Then, their numbers in the thousands, they went on to Germany and then farther east, attracting more and more people as they progressed toward Jerusalem. They were called Crusaders because they sewed or attached crosses to their outer garments.
The Crusaders, who went through Troyes, led by Peter the Hermit, did not harm the Jewish population. But when they reached the German cities of Mainz, Worms, and Speyer in May 1096 they were joined by more brutal and more fanatical troops who were very hostile to the Jews. Thousands of Jews met death at their hands. Solomon ben Isaac’s last years were much saddened by the loss of many of his old friends in Mainz and Worms.
Glossary
Ark: The Holy Ark or Ark of the Covenant is a chest that contained the Tablets of the Law. Above the Ark, the two cherubim stood with their protective wings outstretched. The Ark is the symbol of the covenant between the Hebrews and their God.
Bar Mitzvah: This means, literally, “son of the commandment.” Bar Mitzvah celebrates the age of religious majority, when a boy turns thirteen and is responsible for his actions. In the eyes of Jewish law, he is considered to be a man. In current time, girls celebrate their Bat Mitzvah, which means “daughter of the commandment.”
Beth Midrash: This means “House of Study” and is the school that is attached to the synagogue.
Havdalah: The ritual marking the end of the Sabbath.
Leviticus: The third of the first five books of the Bible, which make up the Torah.
Mazal (mah-zahl): A guardian angel. According to Jewish belief, every human being has a Mazal to plead his or her cause in heaven. In the Talmud and Midrash, Mazal also means “constellation of the zodiac,” “constellation at one’s birth,” and “destiny.” And it is commonly associated with luck, as in “mazel tov,” which means “good luck.”
Mazzikim: Evil spirits. Certain legends say they are souls of the wicked transformed into demons as punishment. They have several things in common with angels: They have wings and fly from one end of the earth to the other, they can see the future, and of course they are invisible.
Parashah: The Torah is divided into fifty-four parts, each of which is called a parashah. Each Saturday in the synagogue, the parashah of the week is read.
Passover: A festival commemorating the liberation of the Hebrews from slavery under the pharaohs and the Hebrews’ flight from Egypt. Under the leadership of Moses, the Hebrews were guided through the Sinai Desert for forty years, on their way to the Promised Land.
Purim: The festival commemorating the Jewish victory in Persia over those who wanted to massacre them. The Scroll of Esther, one of the books in the Bible, tells how Esther, the Jewish wife of the Persian king Ahasuerus, saved the Jews. She was helped and guided by her Uncle Mordecai and managed to foil the plot of Haman,
the king’s wicked vizier.
The day of Purim is one of great rejoicing: There is plenty of food and drink, and people give one another presents and wear disguises. The carnival atmosphere is supposed to show that nothing is really what it seems and that the true meaning of events is often hidden.
Sabbath: The day of rest. In Jewish households, the Sabbath begins at sundown on Friday evening and lasts until nightfall on Saturday. It is a joyful occasion; the house must be cleaned, the table set, and the meal prepared in advance, so that the whole day may be given over to rest, prayer or study, conversations with friends, or walks.
The Sabbath ends with Havdalah, a ceremony marking the separation between the Sabbath and everyday life. Wine, perfume, and light receive a special blessing.
Tabernacle (Mishkan in Hebrew): A portable temple built by the Hebrews during their wanderings in the Sinai Desert.
Talmud: The interpretation and elaboration of what is called the oral law by rabbis who discuss its meaning. The Talmud was written in Hebrew and Aramaic in Jerusalem and Babylon between the third and fifth century ce (Common Era).
Temple: The First Temple was constructed by King Solomon in Jerusalem in the tenth century bce (Before the Common Era). The Ark was kept in a part of the Temple called the Holy of Holies, a place where only the High Priest was allowed to enter and only on the Day of Atonement. The First Temple was destroyed in 586 bce. The Second Temple was built in 516 bce and was destroyed by the Romans in 70 ce. One wall of the Second Temple still remains, and it is known today as the Wailing Wall.
Tent: The tent was also called the Tent of Meeting, because it was where God “met with man” or revealed himself to man. This tent, which was made from eleven large goat-hair curtains, covered the tabernacle.
Torah: The root of this word means “to teach.” The Torah is the scroll that contains the first five books of Moses, which are Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, and Deuteronomy.