Chapter 36

Immediately after Purim we began attending to Pesach, cleaning the house little by little; the children helped somewhat. I also attended to the baking of the matzos, which I wished to bake in Bais Yisrael. I knew beforehand that I would encounter hindrances in securing the first oven-batch, and I hastened to arrange it. He told me that on Erev Rosh Chodesh Nisan it would be my turn to bake the first oven-batch of the morning, in the first shift. It pained me to forgo my customary early journey to Rachel’s Tomb on every Erev Rosh Chodesh—especially in the month of Nisan, when it is the eve of Rosh Hashanah and there is a greater obligation to visit the graves of tzadikim, and especially because it was also a day of prayer and spiritual awakening called for by the rabbis. This would certainly be a great loss for me.

Nevertheless, because of my desire to bake matzos with proper kashrus, in accordance with law and ordinance, I relinquished the journey. My wife and I hurried with great alacrity, went outside the city to Meah Shearim early in the morning, took the flour, and went to the oven to bake. But he put me off with the claim that it had already been prepared for someone else and that this was not my day, and so forth. In sum, I had battles with him, and this caused us great suffering and anguish. Meanwhile, my wife and I cleaned all the implements and the oven. Everything was already prepared, and they had almost begun baking our matzos, when the householder who wished to bake at that time arrived. Yet it availed him nothing, for they had already begun baking ours; he could accomplish nothing and was compelled to wait for another time. It was a miracle for us that he had not arrived one moment earlier. Had he arrived one moment earlier, we would have been displaced in his favor and all our toil would have been in vain. Blessed be Hashem, we completed our baking in peace and traveled into the city with the matzos.

It was already afternoon. I immediately returned to Jaffa Gate in order to travel to Rachel’s Tomb. When I arrived at Rachel’s Tomb, however, it was—“Ben Poras Yosef” [“Yosef is a fruitful son,” a conventional invocation against the evil eye]—so filled with people that I could not approach even the outer building. Even entirely outside there was a solid line of people. Nor would the policemen allow me even to press my way into the line outside in order to see the building, and I was compelled to stand far off, opposite the line, which itself was exceedingly long. I was greatly astonished at the sight, for in all my days I had never seen anything like it at Rachel’s Tomb. I understood that even if I remained standing until evening, I would be unable to enter because of the multitude. I therefore stood there in the second row, far even from the wall of the outer building, and recited the ten chapters of Tehillim—the Tikun Haklali—and certain prayers, and so forth. I returned home and went to the Western Wall. There too was a great multitude, and I prayed Minchah and Maariv, and so forth.

Amid all the confusion before Pesach concerning the removal of chametz, and so forth, and the preparations for Pesach, and so forth, the matter of obtaining a house for hitbodedus nevertheless continued to bore into my mind. I exerted myself greatly to persuade my wife to turn over to me the cooking room (called the kikh [kitchen]) for my service of Hashem and hitbodedus, while she would cook in the small outer room through which one entered. After much effort and promises concerning livelihood, and so forth, and so forth, and after many requests and supplications to Hashem, blessed be He, concerning this, I secured her consent through great miracles.

I then devised a plan with her: I would construct in the kitchen an overhead platform, called a boidem [storage loft], to hold the books that had been printed through me. (My intention was also to obtain a place for hitbodedus where no one would be present, in the aspect of “one who is awake at night,” and so forth.) I sought a carpenter to do this, but he wanted a great deal of money—more than a pound. My wife also told me: “Even after all this, it will not be strong, for the weight of the load will break it.” She therefore advised making two, one beneath the other, so that the weight would not rest upon one alone.

Several days later I learned that one of the Sephardic members of our fellowship, a friend of mine, was capable of this work. I called him on Friday to inspect it, and he agreed with my wife’s proposal—to make two. He said that he would not charge too much, especially because he wished to perform a mitzvah for me; beams, however, would be required. He said that he could obtain beams cheaply from a house on Jewish Street that had collapsed.

I went to Rabbi Yaakov Zev and borrowed half a pound from him. I then went with the aforementioned carpenter and purchased two beams; for the wooden boards, we used what was available in the house. On Sunday he made the two overhead platforms, one beneath the other, and immediately afterward I placed the books upon them. I also reserved a place for myself for the service of Hashem and hitbodedus. I cleaned the kitchen and set up there my bed, a table, and a cabinet (sideboard) with books (apart from the bookshelves), so that I could study and labor in the service of Hashem. I began sleeping there and carrying out my service, and so forth. I was exceedingly happy over this, for Hashem, blessed be He, had provided the remedy before the blow: ultimately, after a long time, the aforementioned house was taken from me, yet there remained to me a place of refuge for the service of Hashem. It was a miracle beyond nature that my wife agreed to give me the kitchen. It was still difficult for me because of the water that stood there, but I had no remedy for that. Nevertheless, I did not abandon the aforementioned house, and I continued carrying out my service there.