Who let men in on the secret that a fire is being lit in the old Beit Midrash? A bird from heaven spread the news. For many days no one had looked at the Beit Midrash, then along came a bird from heaven and stood on the roof and found the chimney warm. He called his wife, his sons, and his daughters, who came and surrounded the chimney. Their neighbors saw and joined them. Before much time had passed, the entire chimney was surrounded by birds.
A woman raised her eyes and said to her friend, “Friend, what have the birds seen that makes them gather there? Look! There is smoke coming out of the Beit Midrash.” “Friend,” said her friend, “I have heard that that Jerusalemite is keeping the fire going in the stove, and the birds are coming to warm themselves by the chimney.” “Friend,” said her friend, “I am going to my husband to tell him.” “Go and tell your husband,” said her friend, “I have no one to tell, for my husband died in the war.” So she went and told her husband. He went into the Beit Midrash, where he found the place warm and the stove lit. He stretched out his hands and said, “What a pleasure!” When his hands and feet and the rest of his body had been warmed, he took a book and sat down to read, until his eyelids were gripped by sleep and he dropped off. After a time he awoke and said, “Paradise, paradise!” I feel certain that in a dream he had been shown paradise open, with the pious sitting and studying the Torah, and looking just like our Beit Midrash.
I said to myself: What did this man lack? Only a little warmth, a little Torah, a little Beit Midrash, a little pleasant slumber. I am not one of those who argue with their Maker, but at that moment I said: Master of the world, Thou who didst create the whole universe and in whose hands the universe lies, is it difficult for Thee, if I may say so, to give a little pleasure to Thy sorely tried and loving sons? The next day the same man returned, and when he came in he did not run to the stove to warm himself, but first picked up a book. The sons of Israel are not ungrateful; if the Almighty gives them a small part of their needs, immediately they give Him, if we may say so, His needs; and that is not all, but they give precedence to His wants over their own needs.
An hour later another man came in. As the one behaved, so did the other. I got up and added wood to the stove, saying to the wood: Wood, do your duty, don’t hang fire, for men take pleasure in what you do.
The two men sit side by side with books in front of them. From their joy it can be seen that they are studying the Halacha, the law of the Torah. Since the day the Temple was laid waste, the Holy One, blessed be He, has no foothold in His world but the four cubits of the Halacha. Happy are you that study the Torah, for you extend the world of the Holy One, blessed be He, through your study.
The fire sings in the stove and the lips of those who are studying the Torah whisper. The great hill opposite the Beit Midrash casts shadow and longer shadow, and covers the light of the day. As if a curtain were spread across them, the windows of the Beit Midrash gradually darken. My two guests rise, go to the basin, wash their hands, and recite the Afternoon Service. I rise and light the lamp. One of them responds, saying, “Light.” “Light for the Jews,” adds the other.
Little by little the wick consumes the kerosene and the fire the wick. The visitors close their books and rise. They embrace the stove, kiss the mezuza on the doorpost, and slowly leave the Beit Midrash. I lock the door and go back to the hotel.
On the way I said to myself: If it is warm for the body why should it be dark for the eyes? Next day, when Hanoch brought the wood for the stove, I said to him, “Here is some money; bring kerosene and candles, and we will fill the lamps with the kerosene and light two or three of the candles. Is it not said, ‘Where there is Torah there is light’?”
When Hanoch came back he brought a container of kerosene and a pound of candles. “Where is your sense, Hanoch,” I said to him, “that you have brought thin candles? The Gentiles, who do not need to study the Torah, can make do with thin candles; the Jews, who do study the Torah, need big ones. Had I been there at the hour of the Creation, I should have asked the Holy One, blessed be He, to hang the sun, the moon, and the stars in the Beit Midrash.” I filled the lamps with kerosene and placed two candles in the candelabrum on the lectern. I thought many thoughts, about the sun in the firmament and the stove in our old Beit Midrash, about candles and stars, and I said to Hanoch, “Whatever the Holy One, blessed be He, did in His world, He did well, and after He had finished all His work He gave understanding to the sons of man that they might make for themselves a kind of model of the world on high. He had created a sun to blaze on hot days, and He gave understanding to the sons of man to make for themselves a stove that would warm them on cold days. He hung the moon and the stars to give light by night, and He gave understanding to the sons of man to make for themselves candles and lamps that would give them light in their houses.”
Hanoch was all ears and wanted to hear more, and I too wanted to add to the praises of the Almighty. But at that moment a man came in and interrupted me.
Let us interrupt the praise of the Almighty and consider the deeds of His creatures. This man who came in — let us say Levi was his name — did not take a book like Reuben and Simon, he did not extend the world of the Holy One, blessed be He, but he embraced the stove and sighed from the bottom of his heart. Perhaps he said: This house is warm and bright, and my own house, where I have a sick wife and sick children, is cold and dark.
Next morning came Judah and Issachar and Zebulun. Judah and Issachar took books and began to study. Zebulun stood beside the stove and did not take a book in hand and did not extend the four cubits of the Holy One, blessed be He, but it could be seen that he drew satisfaction from his brethren’s study.
Now let us look at the doings of Dan. Not only did he come into the Beit Midrash carrying utensils like an ignoramus, but he made use of its supplies like a boor. After warming his bones he filled his utensils with embers, so as to bring them to his wife, who stood in the market with frozen fingers.
It did not take long before all the sons of Jacob came along, Joseph and Benjamin, Naphtali, Gad and Asher, Jews of our town whom I have thought fit to call by pleasant names in keeping with their pleasant deeds, although their actual names are ugly, like Shimke, Yoshke, Veptchi, Godzhik — and other names of that sort.
My dear brothers, I wish to give you the news — if that can be considered good news — that we hold public prayers every day. And have you ever seen a place where one man of Israel finds satisfaction, where ten more men of Israel would not follow him? And when there are ten, they hold public prayers, with one of them leading. It is not my custom to lead the prayers; first, because I have adopted several practices of the Land of Israel and a version of the text that is not in use here, and I am afraid I might confuse one version with another, and second, because most of the worshippers, alas, are mourners, and they have preference in leading the prayers.
Let us take some time to speak in praise of Israel’s prayers. Most of the day, people sit side by side and study the Torah. And when the time for prayer arrives, they set aside their books, wash their hands, recite the prayer of incense, light a candle on the lectern, and say Ashrei, Kaddish, and the Eighteen Benedictions, and so forth. Up till now the Holy One, blessed be He, has conversed with them through His Torah; now they converse with Him through prayer.
Sometimes a Jew comes from the market, warms his hands, bows, and says Ashrei. His voice is weak. It is difficult for the mouth that has spoken all day in the tongue of the Gentiles to utter a Hebrew word, so his speech comes out broken. And that is not alclass="underline" his heart is beating like a lizard, because he has been standing in the market all day without earning his expenses but when the time has come for the afternoon prayer he has left his trading, though perhaps just when he is standing in the Beit Midrash one of the uncircumcised has come to the market and would have let him earn a copper, and he has left all his affairs and gone in to pray.