Chapter 61

I pressed through the multitude into the inner chamber. The throng was already exceedingly dense; people were putting on talleisim and tefillin, and several minyanim were already praying. With great difficulty I pressed forward until I reached my place, put on my tallis and tefillin, and prayed there beside the holy tziyun together with the congregation. I then spent time beside the holy tziyun, donned Rabbainu Tam tefillin, approached the holy tziyun, and engaged in hitbodedus and prayer. I also recited the Tikun Haklali with spiritual awakening, the prayer for Lag BaOmer, and so forth, verbal confession, petition, and prayer—especially for my son, may his light shine, the young ‘groom’ of the peyos ceremony.

And, in general, I prayed for the condition of the Jewish people, who were then enduring such a bitter and difficult condition, and so forth. Several minyanim of the congregation likewise completed their prayers with spiritual awakening. The tumult became greater, while from moment to moment the press of the congregation grew ever more intense, for people had already begun arriving in great multitudes from Tzfas, Tiberias, Haifa, and so forth. The crowding was already great, mighty, and vast. I went out into the large bais midrash, to my wife, may she live.

By then all the women who had been together with her had already gathered their belongings and carried them to guarded places, for they knew that now everything would be left unprotected and there would be great confusion because of the crowd: there was no designated place, for everything was open to everyone, and so forth. My wife, however, knew nothing of all the foregoing and was also preoccupied with the rejoicing and preparations. We awakened the children and dressed them, especially the young ‘groom’ of the peyos ceremony.

Our little child too awoke, and behold, he was ill as at first, for the sickness had returned, and so forth. We could not, however, devote attention to this, because we were compelled to attend to the matter of the peyos, and so forth. We had no one with whom to leave the children, since each person had his own occupation and concern; nor did I have anyone to assist me with making the peyos and distributing lekech [cake] and spirits, and so forth, for several people were needed for this.

My wife was therefore compelled to go together with me, carrying the sick little child upon her shoulders; the child who was the young ‘groom’ was upon my shoulders, and the other children walked together with us. I gave the child to Rabbi Avraham Chazan and the other members of our fellowship, and gave them a pair of scissors—called a sherl—so that they might merit the first cutting in fulfillment of the mitzvah. They cut a few hairs from the front or from the back, close to the place of the peyos. Each person likewise wished to merit the mitzvah and cut a few hairs, until, as a matter of course, only the peyos remained.

I took lekech and spirits from my wife, may she live, and gave them to each person who had cut a few hairs, as stated above. Afterward we went out to the courtyard. The musicians were already playing there, and men were dancing with the young ‘grooms’ borne upon their shoulders and over their heads; in the hand of each young ‘groom’ of the peyos ceremony was an exceedingly large candle, larger than he was, beautifully painted and ornamented, and so forth. Outside I encountered Rabbi Nosson, a grandson of Rabbainu, of blessed memory, and honored him with participation in the chalakah by having him cut a little hair, which he did. I gave him lekech and spirits, and purchased from him a large candle for three grush and a handsome cap for the young ‘groom,’ lit the candle, placed it in the hand of my son, may his light shine, as he sat upon my shoulders, and danced with him a little among the people.

I was compelled to give the musicians one shilling so that they would play in honor of the young ‘groom,’ in accordance with their custom, and I did so. I could no longer prolong this, however, or carry it out as prescribed, for my wife, may she live, pressed me onward, saying that the little child was in very grave danger—more so than the previous day, and so forth—and was purging and vomiting without cease. In sum, my broken, crushed, and aching heart was filled to overflowing. Amid this tumult and amid the preoccupation of this mitzvah, and so forth, I was compelled to enter the bais midrash. The pressure of the congregation was already beyond estimation, and there was no place upon which to set the sole of one’s foot. Tallow candles and oil lamps by the thousands were burning, and there was great heat and smoke, and so forth. We saw that this tumult, the smoke, and the confusion were not good for the sick child, and so forth.

I took the child into my arms. My wife gathered her belongings there upon the roof, among the rooms, and placed them inside one person’s room. She walked about with the child upon her shoulders, while we did not know what counsel to take or what to do. Our hearts were filled with grief, and there was not even anyone with whom to speak, for the tumult was great and mighty. My heart melted within me, for I saw that the child was literally wasting away, may the Merciful One save us, and that his end was near. No human heart can measure or estimate the anguish of my heart and soul; I became literally like an inanimate stone.

I gave the child to my eldest son, may his light shine, so that he should walk about with him, and so forth. I took my son, may his light shine, the young ‘groom,’ upon my shoulders and went with him to the grave of Rabbi Yochanan HaSandlar, of blessed memory, in accordance with the custom of going there with the children undergoing the chalakah, accompanied by harp and lyre, and completing the haircut there, and so forth. Thus I went, while my heart ached exceedingly, beyond all measure or estimation. There, in the presence of several people, I cut a little of the young ‘groom’s’ hair, and they blessed him.

Beside the tziyun of Rabbi Yochanan HaSandlar I spoke a few words: that Hashem, blessed be He, should look forth and see our aching heart, hard as an inanimate stone, and should have compassion, pity, and mercy upon us for the sake of His great Name, so that His Name should not be profaned among His creatures, and for the honor of the divine tzadik Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, may his merit shield us, Amen, and so forth.

Beyond this I could not utter even a single word. I only gazed with my eyes as though to say, ‘Look and see the brokenness and bitterness of my heart, vast as the sea,’ and so forth. I immediately returned and entered the Moshav Zekeinim by way of that place, hoping perhaps to find Rabbi Avraham Chazan, may his light shine, and ask his counsel as to what I should do. I did not find him, however, for they said that he had descended to the holy tziyun.