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gogue, they said, and it must be maintained. Then a strange compromise
was found: to enlist the old men for morning prayers. Two carriages
brought them from the old age home, and after prayers Hirzl served
them breakfast.
"They're going to find fault with my report again," he remembered.
"You must ignore their arguments. It's a
bilbul
and nothing more,"
Hirzl hurriedly put out the fire.
The Rabbi smiled. He had often heard her use the Jewish expression
bilbul,
but this time it was spoken in a tone of contempt that made him
laugh.
The next day he was also apprehensive. Hirzl served him vegetable
soup and cheese pie, but not even the dishes he was fond of could calm
him. The sight of the sleek merchants sitting in his office and drawing
circles and question marks on the balance sheet, refusing to believe him
and forcing him to rise from his chair and produce the receipts for them
- the feeling of insult he remembered from the past year - once again
seared him. He strove to forget, but the effort merely heightened his
sense of insult. Finally he went outdoors and fled to the river, and for
two solid hours he sat next to the water.
In the evening six board members came together. Hirzl opened the
door, and they came straight into the office. The Rabbi showed them
right away that there were many debts, and the treasury was empty. If
the congregation did not make an effort, it would be a disgrace before
the neighbors. He gave each of them a copy of the balance sheet and
waited for their reactions, which were not long in coming. One of the
merchants immediately suggested firing the synagogue janitor and the
two practical nurses in the old age home. The views of the merchant
Kaufmann were even more extreme. He reiterated his long-standing pro–
posal, to close the synagogue and to open it only on the High Holy
Days. Of course he ignored the well-known compromise which had been
reached with great labor: the prayer quorum from the old age home.
"The prayer quorum must also be discontinued," suggested the mer–
chant who had earlier suggested firing the janitor and the two practical
nurses. "Why force old men to get up early? To whom does it do any
good? Why torment them? They would be better off resting."
The Rabbi knew those arguments by heart. They were raised again
every year. But now, for some reason, they paralyzed him. He sat and
looked at the merchants as though they were not his familiar tormentors
but new people who had just arrived. The words he had prepared in his
mind during the past days gradually evaporated, and as in a dream he felt
weak and stifled. "What does the Rabbi have to say?" All eyes were
