"A little too what?" asked Moshe. They looked each other straight in the eyes, and both burst out laughing.
. . . . .
When Hershke Mamtzes brought the first few boards and beams, Moshe said that, please God, it would be a Tabernacle for once. I wondered how he was going to make a Tabernacle out of the few boards and beams. I begged of my mother to let me stand by whilst Moshe was working. And Moshe not only let me stand by him, but even let me be his assistant. I was to hand him what he wanted, and hold things for him.
Of course this put me into the seventh heaven of delight. Was it a trifle to help build the Tabernacle? I was of great assistance to Moshe. I moved my lips when he hammered; went for meals when he went; shouted at the other children not to hinder us; handed Moshe the hammer when he wanted the chisel, and the pincers when he wanted a nail. Any other man would have thrown the hammer or pincers at my head for such help, but Moshe-for-once had no temper. No one had ever had the privilege of seeing him angry.
"Anger is a sinful thing. It does as little good as any sin."
And because I was greatly absorbed in the work, I did not notice how and by what miracle the Tabernacle came into being.
"Come and see the Tabernacle we have built," I said to father, and dragged him out of the house by the tails of his coat. My father was delighted with our work. He looked at Moshe with a smile, and said, pointing to me:
"Had you at any rate a little help from him?"
"It was a help, for once," replied Moshe, looking up at the roof of the Tabernacle with anxious eyes.
"If only our Hershke brings us the fir-boughs, it will be a Tabernacle for once."