“Tell us what you are thinking, R’ Shmuel,” said R’ Avigdor. “I see that something is going through your mind right now”

S

omehow, everyone made it into the shul without getting seriously injured. Stones rained against the windows, sending shattered glass flying onto the masses huddled together in fear. Shouts from outside the shul rose ever higher.

“Bar the doors!” someone screamed.

Heavy wooden beams swung down, thudding across the large doors.

Davening began in earnest, the sound of people weeping, and some thuds as a few people fainted in fright, filled the air. When davening ended, the Jews rushed home, pushing past the gentiles still gathered outside to jeer at them.

R’ Avigdor sat inside his home, his cheeks still wet from the tears he cried during the day’s tefillos. He opened a sefer Tehillim. There was a sudden knock on the door, and then it swung open.

The gabbaim of the shul came in, their faces drawn.

“It’s time that we send someone to speak to the king.”

“I agree.” R’ Avigdor nodded.