Page 36 - Devil's Arithmetic by Jane Yolen

"What is it, child?" Gitl asked. "Are you all right?
Does anything hurt?" And when Hannah managed to
shake her head, Gitl turned to her brother. "I swear,
Shmuel, city living does damage to the soul. When our
brother Moishe and his wife—may they rest in peace—
left for Lublin, they had happy souls. And their little
Chaya, so they wrote, laughed all the time. But this
grave little whimpering bird is out of a sorrowing nest.
Look at her. Look."
Shmuel put a protective arm around Hannah. "She
has been through a lot, Gitl. And remember how you
and I and Moishe were when our parents died, and we
so much older at the time, too. Besides, she is still not
recovered in her strength: Do not worry. She'll smell
the good country spring and eat new-laid eggs. She'll
help you with the housework and me with the plow.
We'll put weight on her and color in her cheeks. The
laughter will return."
"From your lips to God's ears," Gitl said. "For He
certainly knows there's enough sorrow in the world. In
the countryside as well as the city. Especially these days
when laughter is our only weapon."
Shmuel laughed. "Do not let Fayge's father hear you
say that. He insists only studying the Torah will do."
"I hear Reb Boruch is a solemn man," Gitl said care-
fully.
"Solemn! He would make a donkey look like a joker,"
said Shmuel.
"Shmuel, that is your father-in-law you are talking
about. The good rabbi of Viosk." But she laughed, and

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