Sima Mayer poured the last soapy bucket over the porch floor.
She scrubbed the corners with the sponga stick and watched as
the dirty suds streamed toward the hole in the center.
"Ta, I'm done," she said as she entered the dining room.
"Great! Come, Tuvi, let's go."
Levi and twelve-year-old Tuvi bounced down the five flights
of steps. They scrounged around in the tiny, dusty storage
room.
"Aachooo!" Levi sneezed as he moved the old suitcases aside.
"We really must throw out all the stuff we don't need. Every
year it gets harder to find the succa boards."
"Got it!' Tuvi called from behind the ancient green
chairs.
They pulled and pushed and finally released the boards from
their tight spot between the moldy wall and the broken
chairs. They dragged the whole pile outside.
"Okay, now for the fun part," Levi said with a smile.
"Yeah, and for the screaming part," Tuvi mumbled.
Levi shot his son a look as he secured a strong rope around
the wooden boards. When he was sure that the knot was tight
enough, he turned to Tuvi.
"I'll run up and throw the long rope down. You tie it to this
spot here," he instructed.
Tuvi nodded. "But you'll let me help you pull the boards up
this year, won't you?"
"We'll see."
"But you promised."
"Did I?"
"Yes, last year you told me that I'll be able to help when
I'm twelve years old. Well, I'm twelve now."
"Fine, I'll let you have a try at the end."
Three minutes later, the long rope was dangling over the
porch railing and down to the street below. Tuvi tied it to
the boards and Levi, way up on the fifth floor, pulled
carefully.
The boards passed the first floor, then, with much effort,
the pile climbed to the second floor...the third floor...the
fourth...
"YOU'LL BREAK MY WINDOW!" the shriek pierced the calm,
peaceful motzaei Yom Kippur night.
Tuvi dropped his face in his hands. "Oh, no! Didn't I know
it!"
Levi, his perspiring face sticking out from above the porch
gate, tugged harder. The dangling wood reached the fifth
floor. While he was grasping the pile with both hands, a
faded, flowered kerchief appeared in the third-floor window.
A bony, trembling finger pointed up, then spotted Tuvi down
below.
"YOU!" the woman screamed. "YOU'LL BREAK MY WINDOWS!"
Tuvi didn't need to hear any more. He ran into the building
and up the five flights of steps in three breaths.
"Ta," he complained, as his father was coming out of the
door, "every year she yells. Doesn't she want us to build a
succa?"
"Of course she does. She's just lonely and it bothers her
that we come so close to breaking her windows," Levi
explained.
"Doesn't she trust us?"
Levi shrugged. "Look, we have three more shifts. Let's finish
quickly so that we don't bother Mrs. Goldenberg anymore."
Father and son raced down the steps and tied a few more
boards together. They worked hard and fast and were
interrupted only by the occasional screaming and pointy
finger coming from the third-floor apartment.
"Last shift!" Levi announced. "Tuvi, run up and throw the
rope down. As soon as I've tied the ropes together, I'll be
right up to help you pull."
Levi came up just as the boards were reached the first
floor.
"Good going, Tuvi. Should I take over now?"
Tuvi shook his head, working too hard to talk. Levi bent over
the gate. He watched as the succa boards crept up to
the second floor. He saw the rope slightly shaking.
"Tuvi, you've done enough. Let me continue now."
Tuvi gave a final pull and held the rope tight as Levi got
ready to take over.
It must have happened while they both held it and both
thought that the other one had it. The heavy weight of the
boards pulled the rope down. Tuvi gasped and yelled. Levi
quickly grabbed the rope tight. The boards swayed dangerously
and CRASH! banged right into the third floor window.
The banging nails and low chit-chat of the neighbors came to
an abrupt stop. The street below and above became very
quiet.
"YOU! YOU BROKE MY WINDOW!"
The scream was so loud that Levi and Tuvi jumped back and out
of sight. The rope, still wedged in between Levi's fingers,
nearly slid off and with a jerk and muscle he didn't know he
possessed, the boards practically flew up to the fifth floor.
Tuvi helped his father lift the pile over the railing and
dropped it on the porch with a bang.
Sima and her mother, Pessy, came running from their post next
to the bubbling pots. The scream, sounding like a bird in
distress, came as they stepped unto the porch and into the
dark night.
"Uh oh," Sima groaned.
"Well, it's her fault!" Tuvi blamed in a fit of anger and
guilt. "For seven years she's been yelling that we'll break
her windows. She yelled so much that it finally happened. I
hope she's happy now."
"Tuvi, please!" Pessy admonished. "How about a little bit of
respect for your elders?"
Tuvi made a face and stomped into the house.
"Let me run down and calm Mrs. Goldenberg. When do you think
you'll be able to fix the window?" Pessy asked her
husband.
"Tomorrow, first thing after davening."
Pessy nodded and left the house.
The visit wasn't pleasant. Pessy knew it wouldn't be. She
came up with a sigh and a pounding headache.
The morning came bright and early. Levi knocked on Mrs.
Goldenberg's door, quietly took the window measurements and
was back half an hour later with the supplies. Pessy joined
him and shlepped along her children.
Mrs. Goldenberg scowled at the line of people that followed
Levi into her apartment.
"Humph," she snorted as she closed the door behind them.
As Levi worked, Tuvi helped and Mrs. Goldenberg pulled up a
chair close to them. With hawk eyes, she followed their every
move. Pessy, naturally sociable and mature for her age, and
certainly not one to be left out, dragged a heavy dining room
chair and sat right next to Mrs. Goldenberg.
Sima, standing by the doorway, took in the scene and chuckled
softly.
"If I wouldn't know any better, I'd say this looks rather
cozy," she thought.
She walked into Mrs. Goldenberg's kitchen and was appalled at
the disarray and dirt within. She rolled up her sleeves and
without a word, got to work.
Back in the dining room, Pessy was asking Mrs. Goldenberg
about herself. As usual, she received one syllable answers.
Mrs. Goldenberg was known as an old, lonely woman who
rebuffed all efforts made by her neighbors to befriend and
help her. Occasionally, Pessy would bring down a potato kugel
for Shabbos. Mrs. Goldenberg would show no sign of
appreciation. She would snort and humph and close the
door.
"So tell me, Mrs. Goldenberg," Pessy tried again, "how many
years have you been living here?"
"Forty-seven."
"Wow! that's quite a while. Are you happy here?"
Mrs. Goldenberg turned her wrinkled face toward her young
neighbor. "Happy?" she asked. "I used to be happy."
Pessy nearly bit her lips when she saw how Mrs. Goldenberg's
eyes suddenly became moist. Abruptly, the old, tired eyes
focused on Levi.
"Why didn't you listen to me and stop pulling the boards up
with a rope? Every year I warned and every year you didn't
listen!"
"We're sorry," Levi apologized.
Tuvi's anger quickly filled his chest and threatened to blow
out of his throat. He controlled himself and asked through
his teeth.
"Tell us, Mrs. Goldenberg, how did your late husband bring up
the boards to build his succa?"
Pessy's face turned a bright red while Levi shot daggers with
his eyes. How inconsiderate and immature was their son's
behavior.
However, to their surprise, a strange far-away look came into
Mrs. Goldenberg's eyes. A soft, lopsided smile turned her
sad, sullen face into one of peace and calmness. She was
quiet for two minutes as Levi, Pessy and a defiant Tuvi
looked on silently.
"You know, my husband used to shelp the boards up just like
you," she said with a slight tremor in her voice.
Levi and Pessy exchanged a long glance. Now things were
finally clear to them.
Later that morning, after the window was fixed and the two
kitchens were spotless, Levi, Pessy, Sima and Tuvi sat around
the kitchen table for a late breakfast. Pessy Mayer's eyes
were focusing everywhere but on her family. She was
distracted and quiet.
"Poor Mrs. Goldenberg," Sima said suddenly.
Three pairs of eyes turned on her and asked for an
explanation.
"She must be so lonely," she said softly. "And imagine, she
has to watch everyone around her building a succa, but
she can't even have one of her own! She must feel
terrible!"
Pessy nodded. Levi agreed and Tuvi was busy thinking.
Suddenly, he jumped up. "I've got it! Ta, will you help
me?"
"Fill me in, first," Levi laughed.
The family listened to Tuvi's plan. That afternoon, they
implemented it.
*
Succos that year was a joyous occasion for many Jews,
especially Mrs. Goldenberg. On her porch stood a succa
that hadn't seen the light of the sun in many years. With
tears streaming down her cheeks, she had watched as Levi and
his son, Tuvi, had pulled the boards up with a strong rope.
With a flutter in her heart, she handed them the nails and
screws as they hammered and built.
Now, on the first night of Succos, after she had gone
upstairs to help Pessy serve the meal to her many guests,
Mrs. Goldenberg came down to her lonely apartment followed by
five men, including Tuvi. She showed them to the succa
on her porch. First they sang and danced. Mrs. Goldenberg
brought out the special kindel she used to bake for
her family for Succos. The men ate and thanked their elderly
hostess who had prepared such great sleeping accommodations
for them.
Mrs. Goldenberg fell asleep to the sound of gentle snoring on
her porch. She felt happy. Things were still not the same as
they used to be. However the succa on her porch
confirmed the fact that she was now part of the kind family
upstairs. She turned over and sighed contently.
And it all began with the window that finally broke.
