I’d never seen the inside of a carpenter’s shop before — and this wasn’t just a carpenter’s shop. It was Papa’s shop!

Dovid

We passed three shops, then four. At the fifth door on the left side, Papa stopped.

“Here,” he said, pointing at the closed door, “this is it.”

I looked at Papa hesitantly. I didn’t want to do anything that would upset him again. I wasn’t the seven-year-old he remembered. No — the years had passed and I had taken care of so much by myself. Even when the melamed in cheder was upset at me, or when Mama needed help with the little girls on the train. I had grown up, but somehow, Papa couldn’t see it. He thought I was still seven, as I had been when he left Kovno to follow the Alter to Chevron. I knew I needed to show him.

“Can I—?” I asked, pointing to the door. The excitement inside me was mounting, but I didn’t let it show. I’d never seen the inside of a carpenter’s shop before — and this wasn’t just a carpenter’s shop. It was Papa’s shop!

“Yes, Dovid.” Papa smiled, his smile big and wide, his own excitement shining through. “Go ahead. Open it.”

I stepped toward the door and pulled. The room inside felt dark as my eyes adjusted. But there were lamps lit throughout the shop, and slowly I could see once again.

“Papa?” Elka asked, clutching Papa’s hand. She seemed nervous, like she didn’t know where she was. She is such a baby, my sister, even though she thinks she’s so big. What’s there to be scared of?