The members of the Jewish community in Krakow were very busy.
All the women were baking for an unofficial friendly
competition as to who would produce the most and the best
condiments for the upcoming celebration. Leading the friendly
rivalry was Rebbetzin Rochel Heller, wife of R' Yom Tov
Lipman Heller, the town's rabbi, who was supervising the
culinary preparations. In the crowded Jewish neighborhood,
the tantalizing aroma of baking filled the air.
R' Itzik the Gvir stood by the entrance of the new synagogue,
waiting impatiently for the old shammosh to finish
fumbling with the keys and unlock the doors of the new
building. To be sure, the pressure only increased his
fumbling but finally, the doors swung open and the two men
entered. The new parquet floor was polished to a high sheen
and everything was clean and beautiful, with no signs of the
work that had gone into this magnificent finished product.
The chandeliers and candelabras were all polished, and
gleamed. The aron kodesh was covered with a richly
embroidered poroches and all in all, it was an
impressive sight. R' Itzik smiled with satisfaction. Little
did he know what was awaiting him . . .
R' Itzik instructed the shammosh to securely lock up
the building and he now headed towards the home of the rabbi,
hoping to join the trustees who had already gathered at Rabbi
Heller's home.
As he walked down the road, he met a young threadbare lad, a
gentile, who began following behind him. R' Itzik stopped
short, turned around and asked the boy what he wanted.
"I know that tomorrow you will be celebrating the completion
of your new synagogue. I want to warn you that the Polish
population is planning a pogrom that very night. They intend
to kill you all." He stood there a moment, as if he wanted to
add something, but thought better of it and ran quickly away
before he would be seen by people who knew him . . .
Stunned, R' Itzik stood on the road, not knowing what to do.
He soon rallied and rushed over to the Rov's home. As he
entered, he was congratulated by all present, but he was
unable to receive the good wishes; all he could think of was
the massacre looming on the horizon.
R' Yom Tov sensed his unease and asked outright, "Is
something wrong, R' Itzik?"
"Yes," whispered the terrified Gvir. "I was just over by the
synagogue to give it a final inspection and everything looked
fine. But then, as I was walking here, a young
sheigitz began following me. I turned around and asked
him what he wanted . . . "
R' Itzik was too overwrought and had to catch his breath.
Everyone in the room looked expectantly at him. He took a
deep breath and blurted, "The Polish population are scheming
a massacre on the very night we are planning to celebrate our
dedication . . . "
The people in the room were stunned and speechless. The Rov
was the first to speak. "You seem to believe the boy. Why do
you think he came to you? What can he gain from telling
you?"
"He was dressed in rags. He was most likely mistreated by his
own people, while some Jew may have been kind to him once . .
. I don't know if he feels a debt of gratitude but in any
case, he certainly hates his own kind and wants to foil their
plans . . . "
"What can we do? We have no weapons, no means of defense, and
no place to hide!" the Rov said. The uplifted atmosphere in
the room suddenly changed to one of gloom and doom. The Rov
finally spoke up. "There is a wall surrounding the Jewish
quarter . . . "
R' Itzik shrugged. "Yes, but the gates are not strong and the
wall can easily be climbed. There is no doubt that we must
postpone the celebration and mobilize some outside help."
"No. I don't think we will need any help from the outside.
Who can we count on, anyway? Other goyim? I think, that
b'ezras Hashem, we will be able to manage ourselves.
We must formulate a plan . . . "
They sat there, thinking what could possibly be done without
weapons, without trained men. Suddenly the Rov rallied, his
eyes shining. "We don't need arms; We have the
Aibeshter Who will inspire us with a good plan. I have
an idea. Those goyim are very superstitious. We can
surprise them . . . " Everyone looked at R' Yom Tov, trying
to guess what he was hinting at but they just stared, unable
to fathom his meaning.
"You said that the walls can be easily climbed. Well, we can
climb them, too. We can dress up in our white kittels,
enshroud our heads in white taleisim, and stalk the
wall holding lit candles. The goyim will think we are
ghosts, arisen from the dead, and they will be scared to
death. They will think that the Jewish dead have risen from
the cemetery to defend us . . . "
The plan was heartily approved by all those present and they
began working out the details. All the men of the community
would be asked to participate in the masquerade.
The preparations for the dedication ceremony continued
innocently, just as usual, as if no danger loomed before
them. Men and women prayed fervently that their plan would be
effective. Only Hashem could ultimately save them.
On the night of the appointed celebration, all the Jewish men
climbed up on the wall at a designated signal. They were
dressed in white kittels and enveloped in their white
taleisim, each holding a candle in his hand. They
looked awesome in the pale moonlight.
Then, suddenly, they heard the murderous screams of an
approaching multitude. The mob was about to storm the gates
and some had even began climbing the wall when suddenly, all
was silent for a moment. Then their cries of "Death to the
Jews" turned to screams of terror as they beheld the white
figures on the wall, certain that these were skeletons arisen
from the dead. They began fleeing helter skelter, shrieking
in fright.
They panicked, running in all directions, while the white
figures leaped down from the walls and began pursuing them in
utter silence until they were sure they would not return.
Late that night, the Jewish population of Krakow commemorated
a double celebration: the completion and dedication of their
new beautiful synagogue, as well as the victory over their
enemies, all thanks to Hashem.
