This "studying morality" was always accompanied by a special, bitter-sweet melody, which reminds one of the Tefilat Zekha from before "Kol Nidrey". It serves to drive away all the distractions of "this world", the temptaions of human weaknesses, bad habits such as gossip, slander, pride, envy, hatred, narrow-mindedness, etc. It was a kind of meditaion, a way of looking into ones heart, a contemplation of ones own daily actions.

After meditations, we stood up for evening prayers. This was not just another prayer, rather a great, burning supplication to God. You prayed with heart, with feeling, and with purpose. Every word was clearly articulated, with a special melody which reminded one of "Oy, meh hayah lanu"; of "Exile of the Divine Presence", of the dark exile of the Jewish soul...in this sublime moment, one felt as though one was not alone, but rather a part of a greater whole, which follows its own well-trodden path, never turning aside from the Sanctification of the Name no matter what the temptation. Because in essence, the Jewish Way stands in defiance of the Way of the World, with its glorification of "might makes right".

It was good indeed to sit all day in study. It was good to sit and study "morality", which helped you to contemplate all your deeds; it was truly a pleasure to pray when "kol atzmoti tamornah elokim"; and it was good to stand pressed close together with your fellow students, listening with ears perked up to the wors of the "Old Man", telling one of his "morality tales".

Indeed, he would speak so softly, mysteriously...but those who already knew his manner of speaking, would catch his meaning and know where he was leading to. One had to be an understander of meanings within meanings...he taught us to always be on guard, always to consider "that which elevates and that which debases", because man has the ability to raise himself to the highest level, because he is made in the image of God...on the other hand, God forbid, there is no limit to the depths to which he can sink.

And how good it was, on Purim and Simchat-Torah, to celebrate and to dance together till the great morning. The always-serious yeshiva-boys, the strictest Masoratics, would all at once be transformed into a group of jokers and pranksters. To the joy over the downfall of the evil Haman, and the even greater joy of the completion of the Torah, there was simply no limit.

They would sing and dance with fire and excitement; eyes lit up and cheeks aflame. The hundreds of yeshiva-boys formed one great, living chain. The joyful singing rang out over the quiet streets of Slobodka, all the way to the other side of the River Vilyeh:

We wait

We wait in anticipation

For the Lord, blessed be He

To liberate us from our exile

I had completely forgotten about my brother in Warsaw, who had been so concerned over my "future". I was now far from him not only in distance, but in my whole Jewish outlook. I had thrown myself into my studies with all my youthful fire. I now thought about nothing else. To my father, I wrote letters full of apologies, asking him to forgive me for my "childish actions". I assured him that now I had experienced the meaning of learning, of morality, and the future that lies in Jewishness.

My father also asked me for forgiveness. In his letters, he spoke to me from the heart: told me about his constant, nagging worries, that his children had to be raised in a state of need and deprivation; that he had to spend his whole life dependent on the charity of his employers; his "I" was never a whole "I". And he asked that I would forgive him for the rage that overcame him on "that night of Passover". He wrote more....that my mother, God bless her, was in good health and sends her heartfelt greetings. And whenever she could find someone to whom she could dictate a letter, she would write me herself. Sometimes there would be a parcel with a three-rouble note inside. The letter would say, "use it in good health; good luck in yours studies, and write often..."

And so it went for two years in Slobodka. I made, in fact, great progress in my studies. At the same time, I observed the commandment of "gam mizeh al tanakh yadkho"...I quietly read Yiddish and Hebrew literature: the classics, Mendele Mokher Seforim, I. L. Perets, Sholom Aleykhem, etc. I also better aquainted myself with Russian literature, such as Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, Gorky, Chekov, etc. When I came across a hard word, I would look up the meaning in my Yiddish-Russian dictionary. I also regularly read the Jewish papers, which came from Warsaw, such as "Der Haynt", "Moment", and "Ha-Tsefirah". From the press, I gained understanding not only of what was happening in the Jewish world, such as the news of the infamous Beyliss Trial, but also about events in the wider world. And I found for myself a kind of balance between the Jewishness of the yeshiva, and with the so-called "worldliness" which came from outside the yeshiva. They began to co-exist within me in peace and harmony....

For this I was very much indebted to a fellow Zastavier, whom I had met for the first time there in Slobodka. This was Aharon-Yaakov Zeygermakher, a grandson of the Kamenetz rabbinical judge. He was a good few years older than me, already a "resident" in Slobodka. In fact, he had gotten married with the beautiful, aristocratic, learned daughter of one of the managers of the Yeshiva (Mayerovitsch, if I remember correctly), with whom he had fallen in love. (Now he is a Rabbi somewhere in England.)

Of Aharon-Yakov it could be truly said, that as noble as he was in outward appearance, just as noble was his heart....to put it simply, "a good soul". He showed me a great deal of kindness and faith, like a true brother. In all my times of need, he stood beside me (which was no small favor, considering his "connections" with "the inner circles" of the Yeshiva.).

From him, I learned that in order to be a whole Jew and a whole Man, one must not only be able to swim in the sea of Talmud, but also in the sea of Life. This was altogether different from my brother's "philosophy". My brother in Warsaw, who wanted to save me from "the darkness", as he called it, had essentially not understood that Jewishness and Worldliness were inseparable....intertwined with each other, like body and soul. But my friend, Aharon-Yaakov Zeygermakher, the noted yeshiva-boy of Slobodka, better understood the essence of Jewishness than my hot-headed brother.

I had hoped, that for the high holidays I would be going home to spend some time with my parents, with family. The thought of this made my blood flow more strongly in my veins. Oh, how happy they would be to see me! And with renewed vigor, I re-applied myself to my studies.

But suddenly, all of my hopes and dreams were washed away. It was on account of the great conflagration, the World War which broke out in the year 1914. This tragic event not only made an end to my beautiful dreams, but irrevocably changed the whole face of the earth. This wild, violent storm tore me away by the roots, like a young tree, tossed me about on its angry waves, hurling me up and down like a cork. It was only by some kind of a miracle that I came out of it in one piece....