S. Agnon - Two Scholars Who Were in our Town and other Novellas

Some days later, my husband found himself in the city of the tutor’s rebbe. On his return, he brought with him new customs, the like of which I had not seen in my father’s house; and I perceived that these were the customs of the Hassidim. And I thought to myself, Who can now wipe the dust from your eyes, Father, that you may see what you have done, you who banished Shraga for being a Hassid , and now the husband you gave me in his stead does exactly as he did? If this thing does not come as atonement for sin, I know not why it has come.

My brothers and brothers-in-law saw what was happening, but they said not a word. For already the times had changed, and people were no longer ashamed to have Hassidim in the family. Men of wealth and position had come from other towns and married amongst us, who followed the customs of Hassidim , and even set up a hassidic synagogue, and would travel openly to visit their rebbes. My husband did not attend their services, but in other respects he observed Hassidic customs and educated his sons in these ways, and from time would make journeys to his rebbe.

A year before our first-born son became bar mitzva , there was plague in the world, and many fell sick. There was not a house without its victims, and when the plague reached us, it struck our son. In the end the Lord spared him — but not for long. When he rose from his sick-bed, he began to study the practice of the tefillin from the great code of the Shulhan Arukh. And I saw this and was glad, that for all his Hassidic training, his devotion to the Law was not lessened.

One morning our son rose up very early to go to the house of study. As he was about to enter, he saw there a man dressed in burial shrouds, resembling a corpse. It was not a dead man he had seen, but some demented creature who did many strange things. The child was overcome with terror and his senses left him. With difficulty was he restored to life. Restored to life he was indeed, but not to a long life. From that day on, his soul flickered and wavered like the flame of a yahretzeit candle at the closing prayer of Yom Kippur. He had not come of age for wearing tefillin before his soul departed and he died.

Through the seven days of mourning I sat and meditated. My son had died after the havdala , at the ending of Sabbath, thirty days before he came of age for tefillin. And at the end of the Sabbath, after the havdala , thirty days before I was to marry Shraga, father had torn up the marriage contract. Counting the days I found to my horror that the two evils had come about on the same day, at the same hour. Even if this were no more than chance, yet it was a matter for serious reflection.

Two years later, the boy’s brother came of age — came, and did not come. He happened to go with his friends to the woods outside our town to fetch branches to decorate the synagogue on the Shavuot holiday. He left his comrades in the woods, intending to call on the scribe who was preparing his tefillin; and he never returned. We thought at first that he had been stolen by gypsies, for a band of them had been seen passing the town. After some days his body was found in the great marsh beside the woods; then we knew he must have missed his way and fallen in.

When we concluded the week of mourning, I said to my husband: “Nothing remains to us now but our one little girl. If we do not seek forgiveness from Shraga, her fate will be as the fate of her brothers.”

Throughout all those years we had heard nothing of Shraga. When he and his people left our town, they were forgotten, and their where-abouts remained unknown. My husband said: “Shraga is the Hassid of such and such a rebbe. I shall make a journey to this man, and find out where he lives.”

Now my husband was not a disciple of this same rebbe: on the contrary, he was opposed to him, because of the great dispute that had broken out between the rebbes , on account of a slaughterer, whom one had appointed and the other had dismissed. In the course of that quarrel a man of Israel was killed, and several families were uprooted, and several owners of property lost their possessions, and several persons ended their days in prison.

Nevertheless, my husband made the journey to the town where this rebbe lived. Before he had arrived there, the rebbe died, after dividing his followers amongst his sons, who went away each to a different town. My husband journeyed from town to town, from son to son, enquiring of each son where Shraga might be. Finally he was told: “If you are asking after Shraga, Shraga has become a renegade and rejoined our opponents.” But no one knew where Shraga now lived.

When a man is a Hassid , you may trace him without difficulty. If he is not the disciple of one rebbe , he is the disciple of another. But with any ordinary unattached Jew, unless you know where he lives, how may he be found? My husband, peace be upon his soul, was accustomed to making journeys, for his business took him to many places. He made journey after journey enquiring for Shraga. On account of these travels his strength in time began to fail and his blood grew thin. At last, having travelled to a certain place, he fell sick there and died.

After I had set up his tombstone, I went back to my town and entered into business. While my husband was still alive, I had helped him in his affairs: now that he was dead, I speeded them with all my might. And the Lord doubled my powers until it was said of me, She has the strength of a man. It would have been well, perhaps, had wisdom been granted me in place of strength, but the Lord knows what He intends and does not require His own creatures to tell Him what is good. I thought in my heart: all this toil is for my daughter’s sake. If I add to my wealth, I shall add to her welfare. As my responsibilities became ever greater, I found I had no leisure to spend at home, except on Sabbaths and holy days: and even these days were apportioned, half to the service in synagogue, and the other half to the reception of guests. My daughter, so it seemed, was in no need of my company: for I had engaged governesses and she was devoted to her studies. I received much praise on account of my daughter, and even the Gentiles, who make fun of our accent, would say that she spoke their language as well as the best of their own people. Furthermore, these governesses would ingratiate themselves with my daughter, and invite her to their homes. In due course, I called the matchmakers, who found her a husband distinguished for his learning, and already qualified for the rabbinate. But I was not to enjoy a parent’s privilege of leading my daughter to her bridal canopy: for an evil spirit took possession of her, so that her reason became unhinged.

And now, my son, this is what I ask of you — write to Shraga for me, and say that I have forgiven him for all the sorrows that befell me at his hand. And say that I think he should forgive me, too: for I have been stricken enough.

FOR a long, long time I sat in silence, unable to speak a word. At last, wiping a tear from my eye, I said to Tehilla:

Allow me to ask a question. Since the day when your father tore up the marriage contract, ninety years and more have elapsed. Do you really believe that Shraga is still alive? And if so, has anyone informed you where he may be found?

Tehilla answered: Shraga is not alive. Shraga has now been dead for thirty years. I know the year of his death, for in that year, on the seventh day of Adar, I went to a synagogue for the afternoon service. Following the week’s reading from the Prophets, they said the memorial prayer for the dead, and I heard them pray for the soul of Shraga. After the service, I spoke to the beadle of the synagogue, and asked him who this Shraga might be. He mentioned the name of a certain relative of the dead man, who had given instructions for his soul to be remembered. I went to this relative, and heard what I heard.