Amid the shouts of glee Shmendrik now waved aloft a large bottle of grape-juice.
The children could contain themselves no longer and dashed forward.
“Shah—shah! Wait only!” He gently halted their onrush and waved them back to their seats.
“The glasses for the wine!” Hanneh Breineh rushed about hither and thither in happy confusion. From the sink, the shelf, the window-sill, she gathered cracked glasses, cups without handles—anything that would hold even a few drops of the yellow wine.
Sacrificial solemnity filled the basement as the children breathlessly watched Shmendrik cut the precious cake. Mouths—even eyes—watered with the intensity of their emotion.
With almost religious fervor Hanneh Breineh poured the grape-juice into the glasses held in the trembling hands of the children. So overwhelming was the occasion that none dared to taste till the ritual was completed. The suspense was agonizing as one and all waited for Shmendrik’s signal.
“Hanneh Breineh—you drink from my Sabbath wine-glass!”
Hanneh Breineh clinked glasses with Schmendrik. “Long years on you—long years on us all!” Then she turned to Sophie, clinked glasses once more. “May you yet marry yourself from our basement to a millionaire!” Then she lifted the glass to her lips.
The spell was broken. With a yell of triumph the children gobbled the cake in huge mouthfuls and sucked the golden liquid. All the traditions of wealth and joy that ever sparkled from the bubbles of champagne smiled at Hanneh Breineh from her glass of California grape-juice.
“Ach!” she sighed. “How good it is to forget your troubles, and only those that’s got troubles have the chance to forget them!”