DISOWNED Read Online Free Page A

And what will happen then?"
       He looks up for a sharp moment. "Rivkah, there is one thing to remember.  Only God's will can ever happen for you. Whatever comes, you must say thank you."
     

 
     
    CHAPTER 3
     
     
     For now, most of the time Rivkah stays downstairs in her grandmother's kitchen, working at her side. Day after day she is right there helping, cleaning, sweeping, cutting vegetables and running back and forth to Ruthie's corner store. The preparation for Sabbath takes days.
    "Grandma, I need more time with Uncle Reb Bershky."
    "Why? What's so great about Uncle Reb Bershky? There's no greater blessing than to cook for others." Devorah checks the vegetables and moves around the room, putting things in order, taking out pots, preparing the dough. "If you want to bring Messiah, knead this flour into dough."
       Together she and Rivkah roll the dough for the strudel. Their routine is firm and immovable. Devorah opens and closes the huge steel ovens in the walls. Rivkah kneads the dough into Challah on the long wooden table. After kneading the dough, they start peeling carrots for tzimmes, a pudding of carrots, raisins and prunes. 
    "We are giving honor to the King," Devorah sings a little. "God is the King. Sabbath is his bride. A huge celebration is being made ready. Honor for the King, honor for the King." She keeps humming this over and over. "If even one person goes away from the Sabbath table hungry or disappointed, we haven't given real honor to the King. Only do everything perfectly and God will give you the wisdom you need."
    For as long as she is needed Rivkah stays there helping, but the minute she is finished, she runs out the side door to the alley way. Some bluebells are blooming unexpectedly beneath the hedges. They are blooming by themselves, uninvited. Rivkah stops for a moment and smiles at them.
      "Hello, hello," she whispers, "what in the world are you doing here?"
    Today, before Rivkah goes out the side door, Devorah comes over to the window where Rivkah is standing.
       "What's the big rush?"
       "Grandma, look, it's almost spring."
       "So? Rivkah, I have no idea what will come of you, but how can it be good?"
       Rivkah tries to shrug the old lady away.
    "I feel it cannot be good. We are all in danger, and no one knows it. I know it though."
       "I'm sorry."
       "And what good is it if you're sorry, tell me?  Does it make our exile easier?"
       "No." Rivkah knows that all Jews have been in the exile for centuries. This has been God's decree. They are in exile for their sins, and for the sins of their fathers. For the mitzvahs they have refused to perform.
      But Rivkah is not thinking of the exile right now. She is thinking of the new flowers outside that are just starting to bloom. She wants to spend some time with them in the garden.  She longs to go over, collect potato shavings and put them into the earth to help the tiny flowers grow.
    Devorah leans over to the windows and pulls the curtains over it shut.
       Little trickles of sweat break out on Rivkah's forehead. "Why are you closing the curtains? Look, it's spring!"
       "So what? Spring or winter, I'm on this earth for a reason! How about you?"
    Rivkah reaches under her grandmother's arm to the counter and throws the potato shavings in a basket. "Of course I'm here for a reason." She tosses the shavings around.
       "Leave the potato shavings alone." The hard, steel will of her grandmother intersects with the waves of doubt and fear that are forming inside her these days.
       Suddenly Rivkah puts the basket down. "I do what I can, grandma. The rest I leave over."
       For a second Devorah's mouth turns up into a smile. A crazy wild smile. Rivkah jumps away from her and then just as fast, the grin is gone. Devorah's face is somber. "We're naturally selfish, all of us. Grasping, stupid."
       "Not everybody!"
       "We're born that way. Such gifts we have been given, and we throw them