Ezrielk The Scribe

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Title:     Ezrielk The Scribe
Author: Isaiah Lerner [More Titles by Lerner]

Forty days before Ezrielk descended upon this sinful world, his life-partner was proclaimed in Heaven, and the Heavenly Council decided that he was to transcribe the books of the Law, prayers, and Mezuzehs for the Kabtzonivke Jews, and thereby make a living for his wife and children. But the hard word went forth to him that he should not disclose this secret decree to anyone, and should even forget it himself for a goodly number of years. A glance at Ezrielk told one that he had been well lectured with regard to some important matter, and was to tell no tales out of school. Even Minde, the Kabtzonivke Bobbe, testified to this:

"Never in all my life, all the time I've been bringing Jewish children into God's world, have I known a child scream so loud at birth as Ezrielk--a sign that he'd had it well rubbed into him!"

Either the angel who has been sent to fillip little children above the lips when they are being born, was just then very sleepy (Ezrielk was born late at night), or some one had put him out of temper, but one way or another little Ezrielk, the very first minute of his Jewish existence, caught such a blow that his top lip was all but split in two.

After this kindly welcome, when God's angel himself had thus received Ezrielk, slaps, blows, and stripes rained down upon his head, body, and life, all through his days, without pause or ending.

Ezrielk began to attend Cheder when he was exactly three years old. His first teacher treated him very badly, beat him continually, and took all the joy of his childhood from him. By the time this childhood of his had passed, and he came to be married (he began to wear the phylacteries and the prayer-scarf [*] on the day of his marriage), he was a very poor specimen, small, thin, stooping, and yellow as an egg-pudding, his little face dark, dreary, and weazened, like a dried Lender herring. The only large, full things about him were his earlocks, which covered his whole face, and his two blue eyes. He had about as much strength as a fly, he could not even break the wine-glass [**] under the marriage canopy by himself, and had to ask for help of Reb Yainkef Butz, the beadle of the Old Shool.

[* "He began to wear the phylacteries and the prayer-scarf," etc.--They are worn first when a boy is Bar-Mitzveh (which see); Ezrielk was married at the age of thirteen.]

[** "He could not even break the wine-glass," etc.--A marriage custom.]

Among the German Jews a boy like that would have been left unwed till he was sixteen or even seventeen, but our Ezrielk was married at thirteen, for his bride had been waiting for him seventeen years.

It was this way: Reb Seinwill Bassis, Ezrielk's father, and Reb Selig Tachshit, his father-in-law, were Hostre Chassidim, and used to drive every year to spend the Solemn Days at the Hostre Rebbe's. They both (not of you be it spoken!) lost all their children in infancy, and, as you can imagine, they pressed the Rebbe very closely on this important point, left him no peace, till he should bestir himself on their behalf, and exercise all his influence in the Higher Spheres. Once, on the Eve of Yom Kippur, before daylight, after the waving of the scape-fowls, when the Rebbe, long life to him, was in somewhat high spirits, our two Chassidim made another set upon him, but this time they had quite a new plan, and it simply had to work out!

"Do you know what? Arrange a marriage between your children! Good luck to you!" The whole company of Chassidim broke some plates [*], and actually drew up the marriage contract. It was a little difficult to draw up the contract, because they did not know which of our two friends would have the boy (the Rebbe, long life to him, was silent on this head), and which, the girl, but--a learned Jew is never at a loss, and they wrote out the contract with conditions.

[* "The whole company of Chassidim broke some plates."--A betrothal custom.]

For three years running after this their wives bore them each a child, but the children were either both boys or both girls, so that their vow to unite the son of one to a daughter of the other born in the same year could not be fulfilled, and the documents lay on the shelf.

True, the little couples departed for the "real world" within the first month, but the Rebbe consoled the father by saying:

"We may be sure they were not true Jewish children, that is, not true Jewish souls. The true Jewish soul once born into the world holds on, until, by means of various troubles and trials, it is cleansed from every stain. Don't worry, but wait."

The fourth year the Rebbe's words were established: Reb Selig Tachshit had a daughter born to him, and Reb Seinwill Bassis, Ezrielk.

Channehle, Ezrielk's bride, was tall, when they married, as a young fir-tree, beautiful as the sun, clever as the day is bright, and white as snow, with sky-blue, star-like eyes. Her hair was the color of ripe corn--in a word, she was fair as Abigail and our Mother Rachel in one, winning as Queen Esther, pious as Leah, and upright as our Grandmother Sarah.

But although the bride was beautiful, she found no fault with her bridegroom; on the contrary, she esteemed it a great honor to have him for a husband. All the Kabtzonivke girls envied her, and every Kabtzonivke woman who was "expecting" desired with all her heart that she might have such a son as Ezrielk. The reason is quite plain: First, what true Jewish maiden looks for beauty in her bridegroom? Secondly, our Ezrielk was as full of excellencies as a pomegranate is of seeds.

His teachers had not broken his bones for nothing. The blows had been of great and lasting good to him. Even before his wedding, Seinwill Bassis's Ezrielk was deeply versed in the Law, and could solve the hardest "questions," so that you might have made a Rabbi of him. He was, moreover, a great scribe. His "in-honor-ofs," and his "blessed bes" were known, not only in Kabtzonivke, but all over Kamenivke, and as for his singing--!

When Ezrielk began to sing, poor people forgot their hunger, thirst, and need, the sick, their aches and pains, the Kabtzonivke Jews in general, their bitter exile.

He mostly sang unfamiliar tunes and whole "things."

"Where do you get them, Ezrielk?"

The little Ezrielk would open his eyes (he kept them shut while he sang), his two big blue eyes, and answer wonderingly:

"Don't you hear how everything sings?"

After a little while, when Ezrielk had been singing so well and so sweetly and so wonderfully that the Kabtzonivke Jews began to feel too happy, people fell athinking, and they grew extremely uneasy and disturbed in their minds:

"It's not all so simple as it looks, there is something behind it. Suppose a not-good one had introduced himself into the child (which God forbid!)? It would do no harm to take him to the Aleskev Rebbe, long life to him."

As good luck would have it, the Hostre Rebbe came along just then to Kabtzonivke, and, after all, Ezrielk belonged to him, he was born through the merit of the Rebbe's miracle-working! So the Chassidim told him the story. The Rebbe, long life to him, sent for him. Ezrielk came and began to sing. The Rebbe listened a long, long time to his sweet voice, which rang out like a hundred thousand crystal and gold bells into every corner of the room.

"Do not be alarmed, he may and he must sing. He gets his tunes there where he got his soul."

And Ezrielk sang cheerful tunes till he was ten years old, that is, till he fell into the hands of the teacher Reb Yainkel Vittiss.

Now, the end and object of Reb Yainkel's teaching was not merely that his pupils should know a lot and know it well. Of course, we know that the Jew only enters this sinful world in order that he may more or less perfect himself, and that it is therefore needful he should, and, indeed, he must, sit day and night over the Torah and the Commentaries. Yainkel Vittiss's course of instruction began and ended with trying to imbue his pupils with a downright, genuine, Jewish-Chassidic enthusiasm.

The first day Ezrielk entered his Cheder, Reb Yainkel lifted his long, thick lashes, and began, while he gazed fixedly at him, to shake his head, saying to himself: "No, no, he won't do like that. There is nothing wrong with the vessel, a goodly vessel, only the wine is still very sharp, and the ferment is too strong. He is too cocky, too lively for me. A wonder, too, for he's been in good hands (tell me, weren't you under both Moisheh-Yusis?), and it's a pity, when you come to think, that such a goodly vessel should be wasted. Yes, he wants treating in quite another way."

And Yainkel Vittiss set himself seriously to the task of shaping and working up Ezrielk.

Reb Yainkel was not in the least concerned when he beat a pupil and the latter cried and screamed at the top of his voice. He knew what he was about, and was convinced that, when one beats and it hurts, even a Jewish child (which must needs get used to blows) may cry and scream, and the more the better; it showed that his method of instruction was taking effect. And when he was thrashing Ezrielk, and the boy cried and yelled, Reb Yainkel would tell him: "That's right, that's the way! Cry, scream--louder still! That's the way to get a truly contrite Jewish heart! You sing too merrily for me--a true Jew should weep even while he sings."

When Ezrielk came to be twelve years old, his teacher declared that he might begin to recite the prayers in Shool before the congregation, as he now had within him that which beseems a good Chassidic Jew.

So Ezrielk began to davven in the Kabtzonivke Old Shool, and a crowd of people, not only from Kabtzonivke, but even from Kamenivke and Ebionivke, used to fill and encircle the Shool to hear him.

Reb Yainkel was not mistaken, he knew what he was saying. Ezrielk was indeed fit to davven: life and the joy of life had vanished from his singing, and the terrorful weeping, the fearful wailing of a nation's two thousand years of misfortune, might be heard and felt in his voice.

Ezrielk was very weakly, and too young to lead the service often, but what a stir he caused when he lifted up his voice in the Shool!

Kabtzonivke, Kamenivke, and Ebionivke will never forget the first U-mipné Chatoénu led by the twelve-year-old Ezrielk, standing before the precentor's desk in a long, wide prayer-scarf.

The men, women, and children who were listening inside and outside the Old Shool felt a shudder go through them, their hair stood on end, and their hearts wept and fluttered in their breasts.

Ezrielk's voice wept and implored, "on account of our sins."

* * * * *

At the time when Ezrielk was distinguishing himself on this fashion with his chanting, the Jewish doctor from Kamenivke happened to be in the place. He saw the crowd round the Old Shool, and he went in. As you may suppose, he was much longer in coming out. He was simply riveted to the spot, and it is said that he rubbed his eyes more than once while he listened and looked. On coming away, he told them to bring Ezrielk to see him on the following day, saying that he wished to see him, and would take no fee.

Next day Ezrielk came with his mother to the doctor's house.

"A blow has struck me! A thunder has killed me! Reb Yainkel, do you know what the doctor said?"

"You silly woman, don't scream so! He cannot have said anything bad about Ezrielk. What is the matter? Did he hear him intone the Gemoreh, or perhaps sing? Don't cry and lament like that!"

"Reb Yainkel, what are you talking about? The doctor said that my Ezrielk is in danger, that he's ill, that he hasn't a sound organ--his heart, his lungs, are all sick. Every little bone in him is broken. He mustn't sing or study--the bath will be his death--he must have a long cure--he must be sent away for air. God (he said to me) has given you a precious gift, such as Heaven and earth might envy. Will you go and bury it with your own hands?"

"And you were frightened and believed him? Nonsense! I've had Ezrielk in my Cheder two years. Do I want him to come and tell me what goes on there? If he were a really good doctor, and had one drop of Jewish blood left in his veins, wouldn't he know that every true Jew has a sick heart, a bad lung, broken bones, and deformed limbs, and is well and strong in spite of it, because the holy Torah is the best medicine for all sicknesses? Ha, ha, ha! And he wants Ezrielk to give up learning and the bath? Do you know what? Go home and send Ezrielk to Cheder at once!"

The Kamenivke doctor made one or two more attempts at alarming Ezrielk's parents; he sent his assistant to them more than once, but it was no use, for after what Reb Yainkel had said, nobody would hear of any doctoring.

So Ezrielk continued to study the Talmud and occasionally to lead the service in Shool, like the Chassidic child he was, had a dip nearly every morning in the bath-house, and at thirteen, good luck to him, he was married.

The Hostre Rebbe himself honored the wedding with his presence. The Rebbe, long life to him, was fond of Ezrielk, almost as though he had been his own child. The whole time the saint stayed in Kabtzonivke, Kamenivke, and Ebionivke, Ezrielk had to be near him.

When they told the Rebbe the story of the doctor, he remarked, "Ett! what do they know?"

And Ezrielk continued to recite the prayers after his marriage, and to sing as before, and was the delight of all who heard him.

Agreeably to the marriage contract, Ezrielk and his Channehle had a double right to board with their parents "forever"; when they were born and the written engagements were filled in, each was an only child, and both Reb Seinwill and Reb Selig undertook to board them "forever." True, when the parents wedded their "one and only children," they had both of them a houseful of little ones and no Parnosseh (they really hadn't!), but they did not go back upon their word with regard to the "board forever."

Of course, it is understood that the two "everlasting boards" lasted nearly one whole year, and Ezrielk and his wife might well give thanks for not having died of hunger in the course of it, such a bad, bitter year as it was for their poor parents. It was the year of the great flood, when both Reb Seinwill Bassis and Reb Selig Tachshit had their houses ruined.

Ezrielk, Channehle, and their little son had to go and shift for themselves. But the other inhabitants of Kabtzonivke, regardless of this, now began to envy them in earnest: what other couple of their age, with a child and without a farthing, could so easily make a livelihood as they?

Hardly had it come to the ears of the three towns that Ezrielk was seeking a Parnosseh when they were all astir. All the Shools called meetings, and sought for means and money whereby they might entice the wonderful cantor and secure him for themselves. There was great excitement in the Shools. Fancy finding in a little, thin Jewish lad all the rare and precious qualities that go to make a great cantor! The trustees of all the Shools ran about day and night, and a fierce war broke out among them.

The war raged five times twenty-four hours, till the Great Shool in Kamenivke carried the day. Not one of the others could have dreamed of offering him such a salary--three hundred rubles and everything found!

"God is my witness"--thus Ezrielk opened his heart, as he sat afterwards with the company of Hostre Chassidim over a little glass of brandy--"that I find it very hard to leave our Old Shool, where my grandfather and great-grandfather used to pray. Believe me, brothers, I would not do it, only they give me one hundred and fifty rubles earnest-money, and I want to pass it on to my father and father-in-law, so that they may rebuild their houses. To your health, brothers! Drink to my remaining an honest Jew, and wish that my head may not be turned by the honor done to me!"

And Ezrielk began to davven and to sing (again without a choir) in the Great Shool, in the large town of Kamenivke. There he intoned the prayers as he had never done before, and showed who Ezrielk was! The Old Shool in Kabtzonivke had been like a little box for his voice.

In those days Ezrielk and his household lived in happiness and plenty, and he and Channehle enjoyed the respect and consideration of all men. When Ezrielk led the service, the Shool was filled to overflowing, and not only with Jews, even the richest Gentiles (I beg to distinguish!) came to hear him, and wondered how such a small and weakly creature as Ezrielk, with his thin chest and throat, could bring out such wonderful tunes and whole compositions of his own! Money fell upon the lucky couple, through circumcisions, weddings, and so on, like snow. Only one thing began, little by little, to disturb their happiness: Ezrielk took to coughing, and then to spitting blood.

He used to complain that he often felt a kind of pain in his throat and chest, but they did not consult a doctor.

"What, a doctor?" fumed Reb Yainkel. "Nonsense! It hurts, does it? Where's the wonder? A carpenter, a smith, a tailor, a shoemaker works with his hands, and his hands hurt. Cantors and teachers and match-makers work with their throat and chest, and these hurt, they are bound to do so. It is simply hemorrhoids."

So Ezrielk went on intoning and chanting, and the Kamenivke Jews licked their fingers, and nearly jumped out of their skin for joy when they heard him.

Two years passed in this way, and then came a change.

It was early in the morning of the Fast of the Destruction of the Temple, all the windows of the Great Shool were open, and all the tables, benches, and desks had been carried out from the men's hall and the women's hall the evening before. Men and women sat on the floor, so closely packed a pin could not have fallen to the floor between them. The whole street in which was the Great Shool was chuck full with a terrible crowd of men, women, and children, although it just happened to be cold, wet weather. The fact is, Ezrielk's Lamentations had long been famous throughout the Jewish world in those parts, and whoever had ears, a Jewish heart, and sound feet, came that day to hear him. The sad epidemic disease that (not of our days be it spoken!) swallows men up, was devastating Kamenivke and its surroundings that year, and everyone sought a place and hour wherein to weep out his opprest and bitter heart.

Ezrielk also sat on the floor reciting Lamentations, but the man who sat there was not the same Ezrielk, and the voice heard was not his. Ezrielk, with his sugar-sweet, honeyed voice, had suddenly been transformed into a strange being, with a voice that struck terror into his hearers; the whole people saw, heard, and felt, how a strange creature was flying about among them with a fiery sword in his hand. He slashes, hews, and hacks at their hearts, and with a terrible voice he cries out and asks: "Sinners! Where is your holy land that flowed with milk and honey? Slaves! Where is your Temple? Accursed slaves! You sold your freedom for money and calumny, for honors and worldly greatness!"

The people trembled and shook and were all but entirely dissolved in tears. "Upon Zion and her cities!" sang out once more Ezrielk's melancholy voice, and suddenly something snapped in his throat, just as when the strings of a good fiddle snap when the music is at its best. Ezrielk coughed, and was silent. A stream of blood poured from his throat, and he grew white as the wall.

The doctor declared that Ezrielk had lost his voice forever, and would remain hoarse for the rest of his life.

"Nonsense!" persisted Reb Yainkel. "His voice is breaking--it's nothing more!"

"God will help!" was the comment of the Hostre saint. A whole year went by, and Ezrielk's voice neither broke nor returned to him. The Hostre Chassidim assembled in the house of Elkoneh the butcher to consider and take counsel as to what Ezrielk should take to in order to earn a livelihood for wife and children. They thought it over a long, long time, talked and gave their several opinions, till they hit upon this: Ezrielk had still one hundred and fifty rubles in store--let him spend one hundred rubles on a house in Kabtzonivke, and begin to traffic with the remainder.

Thus Ezrielk became a trader. He began driving to fairs, and traded in anything and everything capable of being bought or sold.

Six months were not over before Ezrielk was out of pocket. He mortgaged his property, and with the money thus obtained he opened a grocery shop for Channehle. He himself (nothing satisfies a Jew!) started to drive about in the neighborhood, to collect the contributions subscribed for the maintenance of the Hostre Rebbe, long life to him!

Ezrielk was five months on the road, and when, torn, worn, and penniless, he returned home, he found Channehle brought to bed of her fourth child, and the shop bare of ware and equally without a groschen. But Ezrielk was now something of a trader, and is there any strait in which a Jewish trader has not found himself? Ezrielk had soon disposed of the whole of his property, paid his debts, rented a larger lodging, and started trading in several new and more ambitious lines: he pickled gherkins, cabbages, and pumpkins, made beet soup, both red and white, and offered them for sale, and so on. It was Channehle again who had to carry on most of the business, but, then, Ezrielk did not sit with his hands in his pockets. Toward Passover he had Shmooreh Matzes; he baked and sold them to the richest householders in Kamenivke, and before the Solemn Days he, as an expert, tried and recommended cantors and prayer-leaders for the Kamenivke Shools. When it came to Tabernacles, he trafficked in citrons and "palms."

For three years Ezrielk and his Channehle struggled at their trades, working themselves nearly to death (of Zion's enemies be it spoken!), till, with the help of Heaven, they came to be twenty years old.

By this time Ezrielk and Channehle were the parents of four living and two dead children. Channehle, the once so lovely Channehle, looked like a beaten Hoshanah, and Ezrielk--you remember the picture drawn at the time of his wedding?--well, then try to imagine what he was like now, after those seven years we have described for you! It's true that he was not spitting blood any more, either because Reb Yainkel had been right, when he said that would pass away, or because there was not a drop of blood in the whole of his body.

So that was all right--only, how were they to live? Even Reb Yainkel and all the Hostre Chassidim together could not tell him!

The singing had raised him and lifted him off his feet, and let him fall. And do you know why it was and how it was that everything Ezrielk took to turned out badly? It was because the singing was always there, in his head and his heart. He prayed and studied, singing. He bought and sold, singing. He sang day and night. No one heard him, because he was hoarse, but he sang without ceasing. Was it likely he would be a successful trader, when he was always listening to what Heaven and earth and everything around him were singing, too? He only wished he could have been a slaughterer or a Rav (he was apt enough at study), only, first, Rabbonim and slaughterers don't die every day, and, second, they usually leave heirs to take their places; third, even supposing there were no such heirs, one has to pay "privilege-money," and where is it to come from? No, there was nothing to be done. Only God could and must have pity on him and his wife and children, and help them somehow.

Ezrielk struggled and fought his need hard enough those days. One good thing for him was this--his being a Hostre Chossid; the Hostre Chassidim, although they have been famed from everlasting as the direst poor among the Jews, yet they divide their last mouthful with their unfortunate brethren. But what can the gifts of mortal men, and of such poor ones into the bargain, do in a case like Ezrielk's? And God alone knows what bitter end would have been his, if Reb Shmuel Bär, the Kabtzonivke scribe, had not just then (blessed be the righteous Judge!) met with a sudden death. Our Ezrielk was not long in feeling that he, and only he, should, and, indeed, must, step into Reb Shmuel's shoes. Ezrielk had been an expert at the scribe's work for years and years. Why, his father's house and the scribe's had been nearly under one roof, and whenever Ezrielk, as a child, was let out of Cheder, he would go and sit any length of time in Reb Shmuel's room (something in the occupation attracted him) and watch him write. And the little Ezrielk had more than once tried to make a piece of parchment out of a scrap of skin; and what Jewish boy cannot prepare the veins that are used to sew the phylacteries and the scrolls of the Law? Nor was the scribe's ink a secret to Ezrielk.

So Ezrielk became scribe in Kabtzonivke.

Of course, he did not make a fortune. Reb Shmuel Bär, who had been a scribe all his days, died a very poor man, and left a roomful of hungry, half-naked children behind him, but then--what Jew, I ask you (or has Messiah come?), ever expected to find a Parnosseh with enough, really enough, to eat?

[The end]
Isaiah Lerner's short story: Ezrielk The Scribe

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