Meir finally found his tongue and began to speak to Agnes, Hanz, and Max, his twin brother.

“The truth is that I always knew I was adopted. Before my bar mitzvah my father told me that I was adopted and that because they weren’t sure if I was born to Jewish parents I had to decide if I wanted to be a Jew or not. Of course, I chose to be a Jew.”

“Conveniently, he left out that fact that he had abducted you before the adoption!” Agnes sneered, her face contorting into a mask of hatred. “He’s a kidnapper, a thief, and a heartless human being!”

“Don’t speak about my father that way!” Meir clenched his fists tightly. “There must be more to this bizarre story!”

“I swear to you there’s nothing else that I’m not telling you! He abducted you, plain and simple!”

“Besides, he’s not your father, remember!” Max chimed in. “Those Jews poisoned your mind. Come back to us, brother, return home and embrace your new family.”

Max stepped forward and held out his arms to hug Meir. A huge golden cross dangled from a chain around his neck.

Meir took one look at the cross and a shiver traveled up his back. At that moment he didn’t care if these people were actually telling the truth; he knew that he could never, ever run away from being a Jew and accept this impure faith.

“Someone stop him!” Agnes’s scream echoed around the palace as Meir darted from the room and ran faster than he had ever ran in his life.

Hanz was hot on Meir’s trail. The chase went on through the vast network of hallways and Meir found himself becoming dizzy. He stumbled into a crowd of waiters carrying several platters and caused food and wine to splash everywhere.

Hanz howled with rage.

Meir spotted the open entryway and rocketed outside. Hanz’s steely hand latched onto the back of his shirt and he stopped suddenly and rolled onto the ground. The giant bodyguard was flung across his back and he landed face down in the grass.

Hanz grabbed at his nose with both hands. He sat up in the grass in intense pain, unable to stop Meir.

“You’re going to pay for that!”

Meir unhitched the horse from the wagon and swung himself onto its back.

“Give Agnes Richter a message from me.” Meir dug his heels into the horse’s sides so that he was turned in Hanz’s direction. “I will never, ever be a son or grandson to her. The people I love do not live here, they live somewhere far away. I am a Jew and that won’t change!”

Meir slapped the side of the horse’s neck and galloped away in a cloud of dust.

(Excerpted from Mishpacha Jr., Issue 744)