A Leaf from Outdated Russian-Jewish Life
Ivan Smirnoff was his identify. The very identify suggests highly effective shoulders, broad chest, piercing eyes—a veri-table Hercules. These weren’t his options. Beneath his torn and tattered clothes, that hardly coated his entire physique, had been shoulders bent with a heavy burden; his heavy brows well-nigh hid his melancholy eyes, which had been full of an ocean of tears.
He got here to our little city, Bednofki, a person nicely ad-vanced in years; whence, nobody knew. Usually he was mistaken for an unusual beggar; there have been so many in Lithuania.
Our synagogue was located in what was referred to as the Synagogue Sq..
On Friday nights when the synagogue lamps had been lit and the Sabbath lights had been kindled, the synagogue quarter of our metropolis introduced a superb look. We who liked our metropolis with the keenness of youth, thought that it rivaled the queen of the night time in grandeur, and in splendor, the starry lamps of the sky. And certainly, who can neglect the candy tender tones of the Sabbath melody, “Come, My Beloved One,” as they penetrated past the wall of the synagogue and had been carried by the night’s breeze to the mountains past, and there reechoed in order that the sacred sounds touched our very hearts.
Through the companies there was hardly a dwelling soul out-side the synagogue. Then when all had been absorbed with the one thought, how finest to obtain the attractive bride Sabbath, you can see the damaged and bent determine of Ivan stealthily strategy the synagogue and eagerly peep by way of the window searching for one thing lengthy misplaced.
Gloomy and crestfallen
The upper the notes sounded inside, the extra gloomy and crestfallen the person with out grew to become….
The service over, the synagogue resounded with the unusual Intestine Shabbas greeting. Within the midst of the multitude that streamed from the assorted homes of worship, stood Ivan, sadly, earnestly gazing at each Jewish face. All that observed him handed him by with the phrases, “A peaceable, good-natured gentile.”
Moshe Itzell, the gravedigger, noticed him usually cross into their Jewish cemetery, and there stand for hours with an aimless look on his face and gaze and gaze.
‘‘What are you doing right here, Ivan?” he as soon as requested.
“O, nothing. I simply wish to relaxation right here for a second.”