Leah's Journey Read Online Free

during hikes across the field. A hurt animal was always brought to David Goldfeder, and women came to him often and placed their worries before him. With gentle talk he sorted out their fear and grief, just as he had sorted the papers that he now gathered together in his worn folder.
    Again Moshe and Henia glanced quickly at each other and then at Leah. Clearly, it was a question they had wanted to ask her but were unwilling to. There are defined borders to the territory of grief and they did not want to trespass.
    “What are those papers you are working on, David?” Henia asked as Leah remained silent, staring straight ahead.
    “Affidavits. Affidavits that our society has obtained from Jews in America. These papers will make it possible for some of our people to settle there. It’s a new world over there across the ocean. A new society. A new philosophy of life.”
    “All worlds are the same,” Moshe said. “There was a new philosophy here in Russia. Ah, yes. The brotherhood of man under the fatherhood of communism. But it would seem that the brotherhood is an exclusive one and Jews are not invited into the fraternity. In your United States there is the brotherhood of democracy, but such noble sentiments will do nothing to prevent pogroms there. The only answer is Palestine, Zion. The only answer is to build our own state, establish our own society, protect ourselves.”
    “And when the Arabs of Palestine attack your settlements, your state, your society, what will you call that?” David asked. “Ah, you will not call it a pogrom because pogroms belong to the old world, to the Diaspora. You will have another name for such attacks, but it will be the same thing. Jewish blood will be shed. Jewish children will die. Jewish lives will be in constant danger and the British will not care just as the Czar did not care and the Comintern did not care. Would I grieve less for my Chana Rivka or my brother Aaron if they had died at the hands of an Arab instead of at the hands of drunken Russians?”
    “Stop!” Leah shouted and paused for a moment as though surprised at the harshness of her voice. “Please.” Her tone was soft now, falling almost into a whisper. “Stop all this talk of killing. Please. No more. No more.” She drew the needle fiercely through the blue cambric and cried out in pain as it pierced her finger and a tear-shaped drop of blood fell on the collar of Yaakov’s shirt. She threw the garment aside and ran from the house, slamming the door behind her.
    The three remaining in the room stared at each other and at the door.
    “Go talk to her, David,” Henia said. “You were so fond of each other as children. You always understood her.”
    “Yes, I remember,” David said thoughtfully. “I will talk to her. But in a while. Let her be alone now. It will be all right. You’ll see. It will be all right.” He repeated the phrase with practiced ease, not thinking about its reality but offering it as comfort to himself and to those who waited for placebos of reassurance. “Believe me, it will be all right,” he said again flatly and turned to a few forgotten papers, absently fingering the thin documents of hope.
    *
    A light mist drifted up to the streets of the Jewish quarter from the harbor and Leah felt it settle coolly on her face and dampen her hair. The familiar salt smell was pleasant and she opened her dress slightly at the throat and let the moist air settle on her skin. Her pleasure at the evening cool surprised her. She had thought herself numb to all feeling, relieved of sensation. She was a newcomer to the landscape of grief and did not know how to sift through the sands of sorrow and grab small footholds of life, grains that could be fashioned into strength. The events of the past month had paralyzed Leah with the ferocity of their impact, their terrible finality, and she had burrowed deeper and deeper into a cavern of fear. She had retreated into the shelter of Moshe’s home, taking