lay in bed that night thinking about these questions. Suddenly it came to him: Ruth and Eliel lived in Troyes! They might know the rabbi personally! He would ask them if it might be possible to meet him.
The next morning Josef did ask Eliel, though he was not certain Eliel understood what he was asking. But the man nodded repeatedly and told Josef to wait for him at home after the midday meal. Josef waited out on the street, hoping his mother would not see Eliel return and the two of them leave together. They went to the schoolhouse and found it already packed with people. Rabbi Scholomo was sitting behind a table at the front, with a scribe seated on either side of him. Two men stood before the table, each making his case to the rabbi. When one or the other of them got excited and raised his voice, the rabbi waved his forefinger gently to calm the man. After he had heard both sides of the argument, the rabbi made a few notes, spoke briefly to the men involved, and stood to announce his judgment. As he spoke, the scribes beside him wrote quickly, dipping their quills repeatedly in ink pots and moving their hands gracefully over the pages. Without telling every detail of the case, the rabbi described the situation and outlined the general principles involved. He cited passages from Torah and Mishna. Finally he delivered a verdict directly to the two men standing before him. Neither seemed completely satisfied.
Other cases followed. There was constant movement in the audience as people came and left, but all present were quiet and attentive. Josef thought he would never have a chance to ask any questions of the rabbi or even get near enough to be heard. That was all right with him. He didn’t really want to stand in front of the table while all these people watched. His questions would seem silly. People would laugh at him. Someone might recognize that he was not a Jew. All at once he thought of Mosche. Was he here? Josef scanned the crowd but did not see a familiar face. No, it was better that he not be noticed. He would listen to one more case and then sneak out.
The next case was long and complicated. When it was over, one of the scribes rose and said the assembly would adjourn for two hours while the rabbi rested. Josef thought he would leave quickly before the doorway became jammed with people. At that moment, however, Eliel took his hand and started walking toward the front. They dodged back and forth through the crowd that was streaming in the opposite direction. People began talking excitedly, so that loud conversations echoed around the room. Josef’s head was spinning. What was Eliel doing? Where was he leading him? They seemed to be going toward the table at the front, where a small knot of people had gathered. Rabbi Scholomo was standing in the middle, shaking hands and smiling as people greeted him. Was Eliel going to introduce him? They stood on the side, waiting as people made small talk with the rabbi. Seeing the great man up close (though he looked kindly enough) caused Josef’s heart to beat faster. He became more and more nervous until it felt like his heart was in his throat. He could barely breathe. When all the other people had moved away, Eliel led the boy directly to the rabbi. The men spoke a few words in French which Josef did not understand, although he thought he heard his name mentioned. The rabbi turned to him and said (in German), “So! You are the little Christian who speaks Hebrew! My friend Eliel told me about you.”
Josef could not force a sound from his throat, so he nodded.
“And how old are you, Josef?”
Still he could not utter a word. He held up nine fingers.
“It seems you are a silent scholar. That’s not necessarily a bad thing. I know many a scholar whose tongue outruns his knowledge.” The rabbi’s smiling eyes had a calming effect on the boy.
Josef was finally able to speak. All in one breath, he said, “Do you know everything? My friend Mosche says you know everything.”
With an amused look, the rabbi shook his head. “I’m afraid not. But the Lord often supplies answers to those who ask.”
“Could you ask him a question for me?”
“What is it you’d like to know?”
“I need to know . . . (here Josef paused and took a breath) who my father is.” There it was. He had said it. If anybody could answer the question, he felt sure it was Rabbi Scholomo. It was worth all the shame and embarrassment if only he could get an answer.
The rabbi shook his head again and looked directly at Josef. Now the man’s face showed no sign of a smile, but his eyes were full of kindness. He placed his hand on Josef’s head. “It seems you can speak after all! I am sorry your question is too hard for me. I have no answer. But from what Eliel has told me, you will be a fine scholar some day. You will find answers to difficult questions. I think you will make a name for yourself.”
Josef did not know why, but he felt tears coming into his eyes. Was he going to be a cry-baby now? Would this be how the great rabbi would remember him? But he couldn’t help it. He knew he was a bastard. He would never find out who his father was. Tears fell off his cheeks. Eliel put his arm around Josef and walked him to the main door. “Are you going to be all right?” he asked. Josef nodded. “Can you get back to the house by yourself?” Josef nodded again and went out.
•
Josef was glad he had not seen Mosche in the schoolhouse. He, Josef, had met the great rabbi face-to-face. He had had his chance to ask him anything in the world, and what was the result? He had started to cry. He had appeared utterly foolish. Josef hoped Mosche had not been in the audience, or if he was there, had left without seeing him. If Mosche didn’t say anything about it, then Josef wouldn’t mention it either. But the rabbi would always remember.
The next day was Friday, the day of the wedding. In spite of his shame and disappointment, Josef was excited. He had agreed to meet Mosche early in the morning to watch the wedding ceremony.
It began at dawn. A local rabbi and a group of men went to the house where the groom was staying. They called for the young man to come out. Some of the men in the crowd carried lighted torches and others had various kinds of drums and horns. The rabbi and the groom led a procession through the city streets, while those who followed waved their torches and played raucously on their instruments. Little boys ran behind the procession. Their sleepy siblings and elders watched and cheered from windows and doorsteps. The marchers arrived at the courtyard of the synagogue, left the rabbi and bridegroom there, and turned back toward the bride’s house.
The bride and her attendants soon emerged from the house. A new procession formed, more sedate than the previous one. As the bride and her escorts approached the synagogue, the rabbi led the bridegroom forward to meet her at the entrance of the courtyard. He took the bride’s hand and placed it in the groom’s. Immediately their friends watching from the street began throwing small coins and grains of wheat at the young couple. Three times they chanted, “Be fruitful and multiply!” Then the pair walked hand-in-hand to the door of the synagogue and stood for a few minutes while the rabbi spoke to them.
Josef watched in fascination. He nudged his friend and whispered, “They don’t look much older than you.”
Mosche nodded. “The girl is probably fourteen or fifteen, and the boy a little older.”
“Does everyone get married so young?”
“Most people do.”
“Why were people throwing things at them?”
“It’s supposed to make them have lots of children.”
“Do they get to keep the money?”
“No, it goes to the poor. Watch what happens next.”
Two men walked up to the groom and threw a hooded garment over
