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you get such preposterous ideas?"
asked Dod Gershon.
"It's not preposterous at all!
Stranger things have happened in
the mountains of Tzefat."
"What kind of things?" asked
Michael.
"Oh, all kinds," she answered
vaguely. "Anyone who has lived in
Tzefat can tell you the most unusual
stories. But it's time to light the
candles now."
When they were lit, it was Doda
Shifra's turn to speak. "It's still
early for shul," she said. "Tehilla,
why don't you take Malka for a walk
and show her how lovely the
mountains look in the sunset? You
have plenty of time until we daven
Kabbalat Shabbat. Here are your
sweaters. It gets cool at night in
Tzefat! We'll meet you both later
on." And without giving them a
chance to say no, she pushed them
gently but firmly out the door.
"Keep your eyes open," Savta
Simcha called after them.
The girls had a rather silent
walk. They walked down Figtree
Court and across the road. They
walked past the famous Ari
Synagogue. They walked down the
long, long street of crooked steps
which led to the bottom of the
mountain.
It was very quiet. There were
no cars or buses, no hustle or
bustle; only people going quickly to
shul. They could almost hear the
sound of Shabbos gently settling
down on the city of Tzefat.
"I think we'd better go to shul
now," Tehilla finally said. "It's
getting dark."
They turned back and began
the long climb up when Malka
stopped suddenly and gasped,
"What ... what's that?" The two
girls stood still and listened.
The air was full of strange but
somehow familiar sound, like a
windy song blowing through the
mountains. They turned to see
where the airy melody was coming
from, when through the hazy,
dimming light they saw it ... a
wispy figure in a long white dress. It
seemed to be floating softly and
gently up the mountain.
"Oh," gasped Malka again,
"what is it?"
hurrying into the crowded, well-lit
shul.
"Gracious," whispered Doda
Shifra from behind her siddur, "you
girls could be a bit more ladylike, on
Shabbos at least!" The girls didn't
say a word. The just held hands
tightly all through the tefilla.
Later in the evening, after
dinner, when they were still sitting at
the table, Tehilla asked, "What kind
of ... uh ... strange things have
happened in Tzefat, Savta Simcha?"
"Oh, all kinds," answered Savta
Simcha cheerily while cracking a
peanut. The girls were still holding
hands under the table.
"Were there every any ... uh
... ghosts, or things like that
around here?" asked Malka.
"Singing ghosts," added Tehilla.
"Singing ghosts? Dear me, no,
or at least I've never heard of any.
What is the matter with you two
girls tonight? You have been acting
quite strange yourselves!"
So the story came out. They all
listened quietly as Tehilla and Malka
told the story of the wispy, white
lady and the thin, windy song. "Do
you think we should call the
police?" asked Malka.
"I doubt that it's necessary,"
said Dod Gershon. "Whatever it
was it seems to have disappeared.
And maybe it was just your
imagination."
"Oh, no, it wasn't!" both girls
answered together.
"Perhaps it was the Shabbos
Queen," said Savta Simcha very
matter-of-factly. "These are her
mountains, you know. And Friday
night is her night."
"And you can't greet her and
say Shabbat Shalom if you're angry
with each other," added Doda
Shifra. "Shalom means peace,
•remember?"
Dod Gershon smiled. "Maybe
the Shabbos Queen's first name is
Simcha," he suggested.
"If you mean me, you are
wrong," Savta Simcha said very
definitely. "I am not very good at
climbing mountains anymore. I even
tumbled down a hill in Beit Lechem
and got a black and blue barley
bump for my trouble!"
."But you're good at making
peace," said Dod Gershn.
I don't know, but let's not wait
to find out!" Tehilla grabbed Malka's
hand and dragged her away as fast
as their legs could carry them. In
no time at all they were at the top
of the stairs, huffing and puffing and
"And you're wearing a white
Shabbos dress," thought Michael.
"Well, whoever that wispy lady
was, she certainly did make Tehilla
and Malka friends again, and that's
the main thing." As they all got up
to leave the table, Doda Shifra and
Savta Simcha looked at each other
and smiled.
That night in bed, the girls were
busy discussing things again. "I
was thinking about the song that
wispy lady — if she was a lady! —
was singing down the mountain,"
said Tehilla. "Maybe Savta Smcha
was right. Maybe it really was the
Shabbos Queen. I think the song
she was singing was Lecha Dodi!"
Sunday morning, Savta Simcha
picked a basketful of ripe figs from
Doda Shifra's trees. She wrapped
them up and packed them carefully
in her big black bag, right between
the barley and the raisins.
"Don't forget to set aside
terumot and maaserot from all your
fruits," said Dod Gershon.
"Gracious me, how could I
possibly forget something like that!"
Savta Simcha replied.
"I bet I'd forget," said Malka.
"In Wintergreen City, there is no
mitzva to set aside terumot and
maaserot."
"That's all the more reason I'm
sure you'd remember to do it here!"
said Savta Simcha. "No one wants
to miss a mitzva — especially an
Eretz Yisrael mitzva!"
Dod Gershon handed Savta
Simcha several stems of perfectly
shaped hadassim from his garden.
"They're a present for Uncle
Nechemya to use together with his
lulay. Keep them wrapped in moist
paper so they won't dry out," he
warned.
"It's a good thing Michael and
Ezra are still on vacation and will be
coming with me," she said as she
struggled to close her bag. "They'll
be a great help."
"I hope so," Dod Gershon
replied. "You look like you could
use a little help. That bag is getting
heavier and more crowded all the
time!"
"Oh, then they can't carry my
bag. I'll take that. But sometimes
Sumsum does get a bit heavy on
my head. Perhaps they could take
turns holding him."
"!Really, Simcha, you are too
much! Ezra, you keep an eye on
Savta Simcha and help her with
that bag. And Michael, you keep an
eye on Ezra and make sure he
stays out of mischief."
"You sure need a lot of eyes in
this family," thought Michael.
"Be well, everybody, and I'll
see you all at the kiddush!" Savta
Simcha announced. "Tehilla, don't
forget to bring your grandmother;
and Malka, you bring yours!"
She put on her floppy pink hat
and checked to see if Sumsum was
safely seated on top. "Come on,
boys," she said, "I'm ready to go!"
And Savta Simcha was off again. Cl
Reprinted from Savta Simcha and
The Seven Splendid Gifts, Feldheim
Publishers.
THE DETROIT JEWISH NEWS
L-9