Yeshiva University - Masmid Yearbook (New York, NY)

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M ASM I D 13 Child Lif e By Eli Levine SCHMULIKEL was lying huddled up in his easy bed, staring into the dis- tance through the open window. The moonlight, cast into patterns by the leaves and twigs of the large tree that stood in front of the house, flooded the small, neatly-ar- ranged bedroom. Schmulikel made a mo- mentous and important decision. As he reached his resolve, the Cheder, the creaking table with the high benches beside it, the faces of his classmates, and the grim counte- nance of the all-powerful Rebe, arose as clear images in his mind. The Rebe is a learned man — he knows everything — is a little bent, his small beard is turning grey right under the chin, and there are numerous wrinkles around his eyes and the corners of his large mouth. But the Rebe ' s pretty, black-eyed Susanna with her smiling mischievous face set in behind the jet black locks of her small curly head, makes up for her father ' s severity. Susanna often peeps in through the door, glances at the boys and sometimes at him only — at least he thinks so — smiles shrewdly and then quickly dis- appears into the garden, behind the house. Schmulikel ' s thoughts turned to the Rebe and his stringent warning made that after- noon to the two rows of his timid Talmid- im: Woe to him who stays away from Cheder on Lag B ' Omer. The students lis- tened painfully to his ringing voice and turned away their heads. Although Schmu- likel had ample reason to be convinced of the Rebe ' s determination, he could not resign himself to the idea. For weeks he had been preparing his small troop for the Champion- ship battle with the Yankel Select Eleven. While Schmulikel was thus meditating, a gentle breeze began to sway the tree in front of the window. The objects in the room be- gan to dance in the alternating light and shadow. Now, he made out a cat ... a dog . . . elves and sheidim marching straight at him. He pulled the coverlet over his head. There was a valley behind the pillow . . . the valley was infinitely deep and full of a variety of colors ... it began to shift and sway . . . Schmulikel became dizzy . . . vague forms ap- peared before him . . . the Rebe . . . Yan- kel .. . Susanna . . . curly hair . . . war in the forest . . . glory . . . and finally Susanna again. He finally fell into a sound sleep. The rays of the morning sun were already streaming in through the window when Schmulikel began to stir. He heard his name called and recognized the voice of Shmerel, his lieutenant. I ' ll be right out shouted Schmulikel. In a few moments he was outside, where his group of soldiers were eagerly awaiting him. Attention! called Schmulikel. About face! Forward march! Schmulikel ' s house was at the town line so that his light brigade was soon out in the fields. At about noon Schmulikel gave the com- mand to halt, for they had reached the woods. The forest was a grand scene. The sturdy oaks and the white birches were fully decked in their shining green vestments that became them so well, while the slender chestnuts, straining upward in all their glory of young life, were fanned by a gentle breeze. Into the woods, and let ' s pick berries! rang Schmulikel ' s voice. With a jubilant cry of Hoo! Hoo! Hoo! Hurrah! the boys spread out among the bushes and were soon deeply engrossed in their work. In another part of the forest, not far away, Yankel ' s men were similarly occupied. His men had arrived earlier and they had almost filled the jugs brought along for this purpose. As soon as both parties had finished pick- ing, there began a feverish preparation for the coming battle. Schmulikel ordered his men to dig trenches and to collect lumps of earth and small stones. The war finally began. Missiles were flying on all sides. The fight was long and bitter. Yankel ' s Select Eleven exerted themselves to the utmost, but Schmu- likel ' s daring and intrepidity spurred on his men to even greater effort. He finally com- manded his men to leave the trenches and fight the enemy hand to hand. And it was here that the real fun began. In triumph Schmulikel headed both troops on their way home. Schmulikel felt uneasy. The growing darkness, the mighty forest looming in the distance like a huge monster.

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12 M ASMID Jewry. His former opponents did penance for their sins. Jews flocked from all lands to see the new Messiah. Women and chil- dren, men and boys recited the Zohar in the streets. The Christian world looked on with silent amazement and hushed expectation. Jewish business was neglected and every- where people were selling their lands and pro- perty in preparation for the awaited trip to Palestine. The printing presses of Amster- dam could not keep pace with the demands for the new prayer books which were adorned with cuts of Sabbatai and King David. The frenzy gripped the most sceptical. All over, Jews went wild with the joy of the antici- pated redemption. Comet-like this great burst of flame de- scended below the horizon, and disillusion- ment took the place of former ecstasy. Yield- ing to force, Sabbatai turned to Mohammed- anism, married a Turkish wife and took many of his followers with him into the folds of Islam. Many continued to adhere to the fiction and others, still under the in- fluence of the furor of the times, were easy prey for the several imposters who followed in his path. The question now arises, what has become of the Messianic idea in our own day? All those forces which resulted in speculation yes- terday, have almost ceased to exist today. Those same factors which subordinated the spirit of our people, and magnified the degree of their gullibility have also gradually faded. The hope for a supernatural emancipation has almost disappeared, and in its place has arisen a destructive scepticism which denies even the likelihood of a miraculous redemp- tion. Very few Jews of today would put faith in a date forecast on the basis of Ge- matria. The drift from the supernatural is peculiar to all religions in our modern age and is not confined to our own. Yet release from these supposed bonds of supernatural- ism by modernistic tendencies has not de- stroyed the innate human belief in a higher power beyond the extremes of human reach. There always remains in the most material of beings that natural attraction toward the supernatural, which is the source of all reli- gion and all faith. No industrial, economic, or political revolution can alter the charac- teristics of the human heart and though cer- tain feelings may be relegated to the field of superstition, and as such supposedly discard- ed, nevertheless their roots are never de- stroyed, and only the proper iformula is needed for their resurrection. The Messianic hope still lives, deep down in the hearts of the Jewish people. Its mani- festations have gradually receded into the past... It lives in that halo of legend and story bound up with every struggle and every outcry of our people. It still lives in the hearts of our oppressed, and it lives in the memory of those who were witness to the horrible massacres of our people on the other side of the water. It lives as an ever- lasting monument to the highest ideal of pa- tience and faith, ever exhibited in the annals of history. It lives as the beginning and as the ending, the root and essence, the apotheosis and epitome of the spiritual idealism of the Jew.

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14 M ASM I D and the constant buzzing of insects, weighted his heart with fear of the next day. The fear grew into dread, as real as that of a person to be hanged on the morrow. He began to walk faster, and all the boys walked faster too. Then he began to run, and all the boys ran with him, for the ominous stillness of the night had gripped the hearts of the young boys. When Schmulikel reached home, a good supper was awaiting him, but he could not eat, for he imagined the Rebe ' s harsh look directed at him. He wanted to tell his mother of the dreadful thing he had done, but could not. With gloomy forebodings Schmulikel went to bed. In his sleep he dreamt of the Rebe . . . that he was the Rebe ' s favorite, winning triumph after triumph . . . that he, himself, was Rebe . . . good and kind to Shmerle and Berel and to Susanna . . . Susan- na was demure and pretty ... a queen of the grass and trees . . . She was leaning over his chair, fondly whispering in his ear . . . But suddenly Yankel appeared on the scene, dis- guised as the Rebe . . . And his look was very harsh and stern. In the morning, on his way to Cheder, Schmulikel was still under the influence of the ghastly dreams that he had had at night. When he thought of the Rebe his heart would palpitate like a freshly slaughtered chicken. He would not go to the hateful Cheder . . . he woulJ run away to distant lands where no people lived . . . and he would roam about in these sunny climes, plucking rose-cheeked ap- ples from the trees . . . and one bright day he would turn around . . . and lo! Susanna would be behind him ... red and smiling . . . My dear Susanna how do you come here? I could not live without you, and I fol- lowed you into these lands of Eden. Please don ' t drive me away. Your life is my life and your country is my country . . . Then they would come across a wild tribe of ancient time and he would be their king and Susanna would be their queen . . . And one day they would return in pomp and triumph, and the Rebe would bow before them . . . But he, Schmulikel. would descend from his stately carriage, raise the Rebe, and say; It is all right ... I forgive you . . . Absorbed in these bright fancies, Schmulik- el reached the Cheder. The mere sight of the house, the dilapidated roof thatched with straw, were sufficient to dispel the flimsy webs of his imagination. He breathed deeply, mumbled a few words of prayer, and entered the gates of Hell! The same table . . . the same benches . . . the faces of the students were tense as if about to witness an execution. Come here Schmulik! commanded the Rebe. Schmulikel came over to the Rebe ' s chair like a lamb ready for slaughter. Where were you yesterday? Where was I yesterday? The glorious fight of the last day, the triumph that he had, and the fact that he was commander-in- chief of two armies, made him ashamed of his weakness. Boldly looking up at the Rebe. he answered that yesterday was Lag B ' Omer. a holiday, a field day. The Rebe ' s anger was aroused. The pupils knew it. Schmulikel knew it, but he was not afraid any more. Boy, he ' ll get it , whispered Chatzkel to Chaim-Yankel who was sitting near him. And how, Kemo Shekossuv! answered Chaim-Yankel. Without much ado or ceremony, the Rebe invited Schmulikel to stretch himself out on the table. Schmulikel, inspired by the mar- tyr ' s zeal, was taking the punishment very lightly. The inexplicable fear which had pos- session of him before entirely left him. Sud- denly he heard light steps coming from the garden. He felt a jerk at his heart. The door opened, and Schmulikel ' s worst fears were realized. He groaned. A big lump arose in his throat and he felt like choking. He had not minded the beating, but now he could not bear it any longer, for Susanna was there witnessing his shame. He dared not turn his face to look at her. He was sure that she too sympathized with him. Yes . . . Susanna . . . he could imagine her sorrowful face full of sympathy and pity. He did not feel the heavy strap descending on his back: he for- got the Rebe and the schooLmates: his mind was on Susanna ... He once had met her alone ... in the garden behind the house . . . the creepers were languishing . . .Susanna was sitting under the shadow of an apple tree . . . A red rose was adorning lier curly black locks . . . and he, Schmulikel. was there . . . A gallant prince paying court to the Queen of Spring. ( Continued on Page 35 )