“Your mother-heart.”
He pronounced the words softly, with a sigh and an abject countenance. Yet still she did not understand. Could it be that he referred to her two children, who had died on the same day,—a Sabbath day? His looks were sad indeed, yet how could she behold in them grief for her children or condolence with her? She spoke once more, quite drily:
“Even now I do not understand you.”
Then he told her the tale of a great misfortune that had befallen a mother, and the even greater heroism she had displayed. He spoke with deep sorrow and emotion in his voice and his eyes peered into the distance as if they beheld there a vision of a divine miracle. This was her own grievous misfortune,—her own heroism, but he told it as a tale that had once occurred,—as a miracle that had once taken place.
There was once a Jewish woman, the wife of a renowned Talmudic sage, and she had two sons of wondrous beauty. Little sons, yet already great hopes. Their father was gifted, yet it could easily be seen that they were still more gifted. Whoever beheld them surrendered to their charm. The sight of them brought joy to all hearts and caused warmth to surge throughout one’s being. And the mother was at a loss for thanks to God for the precious gifts that he had sent to her. When suddenly a plague assailed the town in which she dwelt and on a Sabbath day both her sons died while their father was at a House of Study, reciting the Holy Law before his fellow Jews. In order not to spoil her husband’s Sabbath when he came home, she laid her two sons out in a distant room, covering them with a black shroud, and then sat down to await her husband’s coming, dressed in her Sabbath clothes and on her face a Sabbath air. And when her husband came he could not read from her bearing that a thunderbolt had struck their home, destroying its most treasured possessions.
Accustomed to see his children at the Sabbath table, he asked “Where are our sons?”
The first time she told him a lie and her voice was calm and reassuring:
“Soldiers marched through the town with drums and music, and the children were anxious to see the gay parade. They begged so prettily I could not say them nay, and let them go together with the old servant.”
Her husband eyed her in astonishment.