“Could you ask him a question for me?”
“What is it you’d like to know?”
“I need to know . . . (here Josef paused and took a breath) who my father is.” There it was. He had said it. If anybody could answer the question, he felt sure it was Rabbi Scholomo. It was worth all the shame and embarrassment if only he could get an answer.
The rabbi shook his head again and looked directly at Josef. Now the man’s face showed no sign of a smile, but his eyes were full of kindness. He placed his hand on Josef’s head. “It seems you can speak after all! I am sorry your question is too hard for me. I have no answer. But from what Eliel has told me, you will be a fine scholar some day. You will find answers to difficult questions. I think you will make a name for yourself.”
Josef did not know why, but he felt tears coming into his eyes. Was he going to be a cry-baby now? Would this be how the great rabbi would remember him? But he couldn’t help it. He knew he was a bastard. He would never find out who his father was. Tears fell off his cheeks. Eliel put his arm around Josef and walked him to the main door. “Are you going to be all right?” he asked. Josef nodded. “Can you get back to the house by yourself?” Josef nodded again and went out.
•
Josef was glad he had not seen Mosche in the schoolhouse. He, Josef, had met the great rabbi face-to-face. He had had his chance to ask him anything in the world, and what was the result? He had started to cry. He had appeared utterly foolish. Josef hoped Mosche had not been in the audience, or if he was there, had left without seeing him. If Mosche didn’t say anything about it, then Josef wouldn’t mention it either. But the rabbi would always remember.
The next day was Friday, the day of the wedding. In spite of his shame and disappointment, Josef was excited. He had agreed to meet Mosche early in the morning to watch the wedding ceremony.
It began at dawn. A local rabbi and a group of men went to the house where the groom was staying. They called for the young man to come out. Some of the men in the crowd carried lighted torches and others had various kinds of drums and horns. The rabbi and the groom led a procession through the city streets, while those who followed waved their torches and played raucously on their instruments. Little boys ran behind the procession. Their sleepy siblings and elders watched and cheered from windows and doorsteps. The marchers arrived at the courtyard of the synagogue, left the rabbi and bridegroom there, and turned back toward the bride’s house.
The bride and her attendants soon emerged from the house. A new procession formed, more sedate than the previous one. As the bride and her escorts approached the synagogue, the rabbi led the bridegroom forward to meet her at the entrance of the courtyard. He took the bride’s hand and placed it in the groom’s. Immediately their friends watching from the street began throwing small coins and grains of wheat at the young couple. Three times they chanted, “Be fruitful and multiply!” Then the pair walked hand-in-hand to the door of the synagogue and stood for a few minutes while the rabbi spoke to them.
Josef watched in fascination. He nudged his friend and whispered, “They don’t look much older than you.”
Mosche nodded. “The girl is probably fourteen or fifteen, and the boy a little older.”
“Does everyone get married so young?”
“Most people do.”
“Why were people throwing things at them?”
“It’s supposed to make them have lots of children.”
“Do they get to keep the money?”
“No, it goes to the poor. Watch what happens next.”
Two men walked up to the groom and threw a hooded garment over his head and shoulders. One of them took the young man into the synagogue while the other led the bride out of the courtyard.
“Where’s she going?” asked Josef.
“Back home to change her clothes. She’ll look much different next time you see her.”
“What about her husband?”
“They’re not married yet. He has to wait in the synagogue until his bride comes back. It’ll take her a couple of hours to get dressed (here Mosche grinned), so he’s got lots of time to say his prayers.”
“I need to deliver some things for my mother,” said Josef. “I’ll come back when I’m done.”
At mid-morning Josef returned to the Jewish quarter. The main street had filled with people, rich and poor together, families with many children, old men and women, everyone speaking eagerly of the upcoming festivities. It seemed the entire Jewish population of Worms was assembled along Jews’ Alley. But where was Mosche? Josef made his way to the gate of the synagogue but saw no sign of his friend. Well, that was all right. He would find a place along the street where he could see what was happening. They could talk about it later.
Josef found a spot and waited only a few minutes before he heard music in the distance. It was not blaring horns like he had heard at the groom’s parade early in the morning, but gentle, sweet tunes more appropriate to a bride. As the musicians came into view, Josef could see pipes and flutes and fiddles of all sorts and sizes. Some of the musicians danced and some skipped in time with the music. Following them came a group Josef supposed to be the bride’s family. They wore broad smiles on their faces and rich, brightly-colored clothes. Next came the bride’s attendants, beautiful young women and girls dressed in flowing silk gowns. In the middle of the procession was the bride’s litter—Josef had never seen anything so splendid.
Four men carried between them a little cabin balanced on two long poles. The cabin was open on all sides but had a shimmering pale blue canopy over the top, with silver fringes hanging from the edges. The platform, bride’s chair, canopy, and even the poles on which these things rested were decorated with colored ribbons, flowers, and greenery. The bride sat motionless, looking a little frightened, amidst all the splendor. Over a plain white robe she wore a pale silk cape trimmed with fur. Garlands of white myrtle hung from her neck, and a loose white veil covered her hair.
Josef could not take his eyes off her. She was beautiful! He stared, unblinking, at the bride as she went by and barely noticed what came next in the procession. Perhaps it was some of the groom’s friends. He thought he saw men carrying boxes and chests. Josef recovered himself enough to observe, at the very end of the procession, a small group of elderly men. They wore black and walked slowly, with great dignity. These must be the scholars, he thought. Yes, there was the tall man with silver hair and some of the others he had seen in the synagogue. And there was Rabbi Scholomo. Josef put his head down, hoping the rabbi would not notice him.
The procession wound its way through the streets, eventually arriving at the synagogue. Many of the onlookers drifted in that direction once the parade had passed them. Josef followed at a distance. He wanted to see as much as he could without being noticed. From a high place off the street, he could just make out near the synagogue door the young rabbi who had been with the couple that morning. The rabbi greeted the bride as she emerged from the cabin, took hold of her cape, and led her inside.
The rest of the ceremony and festivities Josef heard about later from Mosche. Inside the synagogue, the rabbi escorted the bride to a small platform in the middle of the room where the groom was waiting. The rabbi began by throwing ashes over the heads of the young couple, in remembrance of the destruction of the temple in Jerusalem. Four men took the groom’s prayer shawl and made a canopy over the couple. Then the rabbi spoke the marital blessings. He asked two onlookers to be witnesses as the groom placed a ring on the bride’s finger. After reading aloud the marriage contract and reciting seven benedictions, he offered the pair a glass of wine. Each took a sip. Then the bridegroom threw the wine glass against the wall, shattering it.
The groom’s friends cheered loudly, picked him up, and carried him to the wedding house where he was staying. His new wife, left behind in the synagogue, was expected to follow in a more stately fashion.