“No, no, we haven’t won the lottery — not a physical one at least. We’ve joined our new teacher, Reb Hirsch Leib, who has started a special learning group for people like us who never got the chance to shtei — mean, uh, excel and delve into our holy Torah.”

“Lies! I know how hard it is to make a living out here in this accursed place. It’s impossible to survive as it is, even more so if you’re spending time studying instead of working. Tell me the truth already!”

“This is the truth, sir. We’ve just cut back on certain things to make our learning possible.”

Yankel stepped forward and took off his hat.

“Do you see these holes? I was supposed to get a new hat this winter, but because I’m working less, I’m holding off for now. And look at my boots…”

“Your big toe is sticking out!”

“Precisely. As you see, we’re not richer than before, but just willing to sacrifice to learn Torah. We eat a little less, make do with less, and thank G-d that the hours we do work have been sufficient tohelp us survive.”

“Your wives must be miserable.”

“They’re very proud of us, actually. For them, this is a dream come true. They’re happy to exchange the pleasures of This World for those of the Next.”

“Let’s see how long this will last.” Jan snorted. “There’s only so long a man can go with holes in his hat and rips in his boots. You’ll soon see lack of food and basic things like adequate firewood will force you to leave your silly studies and get back to work. What you’re doing is unheard of — no man in the world has ever done something as ludicrous as this, especially at your advanced ages!”

“We’ll see. Have a good day.”

And the men walked off, soon absorbed in their discussions about that day’s lesson. Jan’s gaze followed them as they disappeared, and his heart burned with anger and jealousy. Who do these Jews think they are? Taking time during the harshest periods of the European winter to laze around studying their ancient scrolls, acting as if they have some sort of Divine protection, and are somehow superior to the gentile workers who would starve if they did not spend every waking moment grinding at the bit to earn some meager income!

Jan turned to the book on his shelf that contained his ledgers, detailing all the money owed and paid to him by the village’s residents. His finger traced the list of Jewish names… Aha! Tzvi Shafirovitch! He had not paid his rent for two months. How in the world had he not noticed this before?

Jan summoned his servant with one whistle and sent him hurrying to call Tzvi the Jew to his home. A few moments later Tzvi was standing in Jan’s living room.

“Is everything all right, have I done something wrong?” Tzvi pulled at his long, white beard nervously. “I, uh, I’m actually late for work. As you saw before, my friends and I were just learning, so we have not had time to do any work today. The last carriage out of town is leaving in five minutes, and I really cannot afford to miss it. Can we meet when I return?”

“No, we cannot. And speaking of affording things, why don’t we talk about that a bit more, old man? I see here in my ledger that you haven’t paid me any rent for a very long time! How dare you!”

“I’m so sorry, money has been very tight recently, I’ll hopefully have it by—”

“Ha! ‘Money has been tight recently.’ And we both know exactly why; it’s because you’ve all turned into a group of lazy slobs, warming yourself by the fire of that little house of worship you gather in. Instead of working like real men, you shirk your duties and hide.”

Jan stood up, towering over Tzvi. He gripped Tzvi’s coat lapels tightly and said in a rasping whisper,

“I think I know how I can… motivate… you to work more…”

to be continued…

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 886)