The daughter of a hajan marries a Muslim posing as a Jew and has children by him. When she and her father realize the truth, they pray to God for a solution. Soon afterward, their house falls in killing her children and her husband, a curious solution since children are considered Jews if the mother is Jewish.
In a certain town lived a hajan and his beautiful daughter who kept house for him. Every day, while she kneaded bread for the family table, the caretaker of the public oven would come by to see her. "God made you for me," he would say longingly, but she paid him no attention. With each passing day his love for her grew more intense until, unable to stand her indifference, he stopped coming altogether. Then he disappeared, and no one knew where he had gone.
Some time later, a stranger appeared in town. This man, a hajan from a distant city, came to raise money for his yeshiva that was in serious financial trouble. The people said:
Where will he stay?
Wherever he likes.
And what would be better
Than the house of our own hajan?
This hajan remained for a long time. Soon people began to talk about his wisdom, kindness to the poor and infirm, and his knowledge of the Holy Scriptures. "Marry one of our girls,' the people urged, "and stay with us the rest of your life." And they said:
Who is the best person, Who deserves him most?
The daughter of the hajan, of course!
They became engaged, the ketuba (marriage contract) was drawn up, and finally they were married amidst great rejoicing. At the end of the first year, she gave birth to a boy, the second year she and another boy, and the third year, a girl.
All went well with husband and wife. But one sleepless night, long about midnight, the woman awoke, and saw her husband praying on his knees. To her horror, he prayed like a Muslim. A thorn pierced her heart. She decided to say nothing to her father until she was sure that what she had seen was real, and not a dream. She forced herself to stay awake the next night, and the next night, and the next night. Each night she saw her husband get up to pray.
Finally, in desperation she went to her father's house. "Baba," she said, "something awful has happened between me and my husband. Every night for the past three nights I have seen him praying like a Moor. Now I remember that he looks like the Moorish caretaker of the public oven who used to say to me, "God made you for me."
"You are married to a Moor," the father said, "no doubt about that, and your children are Moors, too. I think it is best not to talk about it with other people, and let God help you. Meanwhile, I want you to spend the night here. Tell your husband to stay with the children, that I am not feeling well, and you have to take care of me. His daughter did as she was told, and soon returned to her father's house.
That night, father and daughter climbed to the roof to ask God for a solution to their troubles. While they were praying, they heard a great clap of thunder, and saw the house fall in. At dawn, everyone came to see the scene of the tragedy, now reduced to rubble, and found the dead bodies of the Moor and the three children.
The next day they were buried. For a whole week, the people mourned for them, and commiserated with the family. Although the hajan and his daughter appeared to be overcome with grief, in truth, they were happy that God had saved them from a terrible predicament.
|
