out of the courtyard.
“Where’s she going?” asked Josef.
“Back home to change her clothes. She’ll look much different next time you see her.”
“What about her husband?”
“They’re not married yet. He has to wait in the synagogue until his bride comes back. It’ll take her a couple of hours to get dressed (here Mosche grinned), so he’s got lots of time to say his prayers.”
“I need to deliver some things for my mother,” said Josef. “I’ll come back when I’m done.”
At mid-morning Josef returned to the Jewish quarter. The main street had filled with people, rich and poor together, families with many children, old men and women, everyone speaking eagerly of the upcoming festivities. It seemed the entire Jewish population of Worms was assembled along Jews’ Alley. But where was Mosche? Josef made his way to the gate of the synagogue but saw no sign of his friend. Well, that was all right. He would find a place along the street where he could see what was happening. They could talk about it later.
Josef found a spot and waited only a few minutes before he heard music in the distance. It was not blaring horns like he had heard at the groom’s parade early in the morning, but gentle, sweet tunes more appropriate to a bride. As the musicians came into view, Josef could see pipes and flutes and fiddles of all sorts and sizes. Some of the musicians danced and some skipped in time with the music. Following them came a group Josef supposed to be the bride’s family. They wore broad smiles on their faces and rich, brightly-colored clothes. Next came the bride’s attendants, beautiful young women and girls dressed in flowing silk gowns. In the middle of the procession was the bride’s litter—Josef had never seen anything so splendid.
Four men carried between them a little cabin balanced on two long poles. The cabin was open on all sides but had a shimmering pale blue canopy over the top, with silver fringes hanging from the edges. The platform, bride’s chair, canopy, and even the poles on which these things rested were decorated with colored ribbons, flowers, and greenery. The bride sat motionless, looking a little frightened, amidst all the splendor. Over a plain white robe she wore a pale silk cape trimmed with fur. Garlands of white myrtle hung from her neck, and a loose white veil covered her hair.
Josef could not take his eyes off her. She was beautiful! He stared, unblinking, at the bride as she went by and barely noticed what came next in the procession. Perhaps it was some of the groom’s friends. He thought he saw men carrying boxes and chests. Josef recovered himself enough to observe, at the very end of the procession, a small group of elderly men. They wore black and walked slowly, with great dignity. These must be the scholars, he thought. Yes, there was the tall man with silver hair and some of the others he had seen in the synagogue. And there was Rabbi Scholomo. Josef put his head down, hoping the rabbi would not notice him.
The procession wound its way through the streets, eventually arriving at the synagogue. Many of the onlookers drifted in that direction once the parade had passed them. Josef followed at a distance. He wanted to see as much as he could without being noticed. From a high place off the street, he could just make out near the synagogue door the young rabbi who had been with the couple that morning. The rabbi greeted the bride as she emerged from the cabin, took hold of her cape, and led her inside.
The rest of the ceremony and festivities Josef heard about later from Mosche. Inside the synagogue, the rabbi escorted the bride to a small platform in the middle of the room where the groom was waiting. The rabbi began by throwing ashes over the heads of the young couple, in remembrance of the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem. Four men took the groom’s prayer shawl and made a canopy over the couple. Then the rabbi spoke the marital blessings. He asked two onlookers to be witnesses as the groom placed a ring on the bride’s finger. After reading aloud the marriage contract and reciting seven benedictions, he offered the pair a glass of wine. Each took a sip. Then the bridegroom threw the wine glass against the wall, shattering it.
The groom’s friends cheered loudly, picked him up, and carried him to the wedding house where he was staying. His new wife, left behind in the synagogue, was expected to follow in a more stately fashion. When she arrived at the house, her husband was waiting outside. He took her hand and placed it on the lintel above the front door. Then he handed her his hat, coat, and wallet, to show that he would fulfill his part of the marriage contract.
Inside the house, the wedding feast was already laid out. Mosche’s description of the offerings—cold meat, fish, hard-cooked eggs, dried and candied fruits, potato pancakes, and crusty breads—made Josef’s mouth water. If only he could have been there! There was singing and dancing, funny speeches, and a variety of games, and of course constant eating and drinking. The celebration lasted until nightfall. Next morning, special hymns were sung at the Sabbath service in honor of the newly married couple.
•
Now that the wedding was over, the visiting guests began to depart. Ruth and Eliel took their leave the following Monday morning, but not before paying Josef’s mother a generous sum for their lodging. Rabbi Scholomo was going to stay another week, to hear more cases and to study with the Jeschiba students. Three days before his departure, having made judgments on all questions brought to him by Jews, the rabbi consented to hear cases brought by Christians and to give advice if he could.
Josef knew Rabbi Scholomo would be leaving soon. He wanted to hear the great man one more time and perhaps learn something new before the opportunity was gone forever. He and Mosche agreed to meet at the schoolhouse on Thursday afternoon. They entered quietly and found seats near the front. The rabbi was apparently concluding a case, speaking earnestly to three elderly women standing before him. When they left, he stood up and looked around the room. Seeing Josef, he gave a quick smile and nod of recognition. Josef felt his face getting warm. He glanced sideways to see if Mosche had noticed the rabbi’s nod and was relieved to see his friend looking the other direction. He didn’t want Mosche to know about his meeting with the rabbi.
When Rabbi Scholomo took his seat again, two men stepped forward. Once of them had a weary, shabby look about him. The other, a large barrel-chested man, introduced himself. “Mr. Scholomo, your Honor, I am a Christian, called by the name Frieder. I am employed as city clerk of Worms, which falls under the classification minor civil servant. May I present my case?”
“Yes, Mr. Frieder. Proceed.”
“For fifteen years my wife longed for a child. When she finally conceived and a son was born, she was beside herself with happiness. But, sadly, the child died of a fever before his second birthday. There was nothing I could do to console my Claudia.
“When two years had passed, our maid servant, a young Jewess, gave birth to a daughter. Soon afterward, her husband died, and as she had no close relations in town, she and the child came to live with us. It was a great comfort to my wife to have a baby she could hold. Claudia helped raise the child and loved it as she would her own. The little girl Hanna is now nine years old and has lived with us almost her entire life.
“Just a month ago, her mother, our maid servant, took ill and died. Hanna’s uncle, her father’s brother, is here beside me. As her closest relative, he knows it is his responsibility to take the child into his house. Yet there are circumstances that would prevent it. This good man has a large family of his own, which he supports by cultivating a small farm about half a day’s journey from Worms. The land is rocky and barely yields enough to feed his own children.”
Hanna’s uncle nodded slightly and hung his head lower.
Frieder continued, “But, your Honor, my wife and I have plenty in our house. We would be more than happy to keep her as our own daughter. In fact, I think my wife
