A Ladder for Shavuoth

A story for children 8-12, set when the Syrian-Greeks ruled the Holy Land

"Yossi, would you look around for feathers? I was decorating my tamborine with them, but I need more." Rivka tilted her head as she looked at her younger brother. At 12 years old, sometimes he was helpful, and sometimes he was a problem. Would he help her?

Yossi nodded. "I saw a nest yesterday in that big tree in the field. Maybe there will be feathers there. I'll look."

Image by Deena at Frocks in Stock by Firefly AI

"Thanks!" Rivka turned back to the laundry she was hanging out to dry. Just then, Yossi's friend Dani came over.

"Yossi, let's go play!"

"I told my sister I'd look for some feathers for her. I saw a bird's nest in the big tree in the field. Let's go climb it and look in the nest." The two boys ran off.

But they couldn't climb the tree. The big branch nearest the ground...lay on the ground. During the storm last night, it had fallen. The next branch was too high. The two boys stared at the tree. How could they climb it?

"I know!" Yossi danced from one foot to the other. "Abba has a pile of wood he's saving to bring to the Temple in Jerusalem on Shavuoth, in just a couple of weeks."

"Isn't it so the priests can burn your family's offering?" asked Dani.

"Sure," said Yossi. "But I think the lengths are good for a ladder. Abba's at the market today. We can take care of this before he gets back. He'll never know."

Dani scrunched his forehead in thought. "How could we make a ladder out of it, one that can be taken apart and burned? You can't carry a ladder all the way to Jerusalem!"

"I watched Tzion the Woodcarver make a ladder once," Yossi said. "It's how I got interested in woodcarving. He carved out notches that just fit the ends of other pieces." Taking a stick, he drew in the still-damp ground. "Like this. The pieces fit together."

Dani bit his lower lip. "Can we carve that well? Do you have tools?"

"Yes," said Yossi, "Tzion's teaching me, remember?" The boys ran to the shed, took tools and wood, and started carving. Dani, tongue between his teeth, did the first, rough shaping. Yossi, his forehead furrowed in concentration, made the pieces fit together. He labeled them with small letters so the boys would know how to fit them together.

By evening, they had a ladder that was long enough. They started to the field. They didn't hear the donkey clip-clopping or the gal-gal-gal of the wooden cart wheels on the dirt road.

"Yossi!" Abba sounded annoyed. "Where are you going? Did you finish your evening chores already?"

Dani looked at Yossi, then at the sky. "It's getting late, I better get home," he called as he ran off.

Yossi kicked the dirt with his sandal. "I'll do my chores when I get back. We were going to look at the bird's nest in the big tree in the field," he said. "Rivka asked me for feathers. She is decorating her new tamborine and needed more."

Abba sighed. "This is not a good time for ladders and feathers, or for tamborines. I heard bad news from Jerusalem." He looked around, finally noticing that Dani had gone. "Why did Dani leave his ladder?" he asked.

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Yossi sighed. "It's not Dani's. We made it."

Abba shook his head. "I can't worry about that right now. Put it in the wagon." As Abba and Yossi walked alongside the wagon, Abba sighed again. "It's the Syrian-Greeks," Abba finally said. "They're always tryin to make it hard for us to serve Hashem. Now they say that no one is allowed to bring firewood to Jerusalem. Only little pieces of wood for cooking fires are allowed. If firewood is not permitted, how can the priests burn the offerings to Hashem?"

"Does this mean we won't go to Jerusalem for the holy day?" Yossi asked.

"I don't know," said Abba. "I just don't know."

Yossi kicked a stone in the path. "This was my first year to go," he said. "You always told me that I would go with you in the year before I become a bar mitzvah, before my 13th birthday when I have to start keeping the commandments. You said this year would teach me what I need to know so that next year I won't feel like a stupid beginner."

Abba's lip curled into a tiny smile. "I didn't say stupid." he said. "Everyone makes mistakes when they begin, and often at other times, too. No one is perfect." They had reached the yard. Abba and Yossi began unloading the wagon.

"Now, where does this wood go?" asked Abba.

Yossi paled. He had to be honest, but it would hurt. "It's the wood you were saving to take to Jerusalem," he whispered. "The wood we can't take now."

Abba turned and looked into the distance. He turned slowly back. "Yesterday I would have been angry. Furious. But today...we can't use it for firewood. Our foreign rulers won't let us bring it to Jerusalem, to the Temple. It doesn't matter now." Head bent, he walked slowly to the house.

Abba was very quiet for the next days. Imma was quiet, too. Usually, this close to a pilgrimage holiday, when the Jews brought offerings for God to the Temple in Jerusalem, the house was a whirlwind of preparations. This year...nothing.

Yossi did all his chores without being reminded. He even started looking around for other ways he could help. He felt badly about having used the special wood, but he felt worse about the situation. Stories kept coming up from the city, brought by travelers. The Syrian-Greeks were punishing everyone who they caught breaking their rules. And those rules were meant to keep the Jews from worshiping God.

One day, looking around to find some new way to help his parents, he noticed that a spider had spun a web over the pile of special wood. He took a broom and started to sweep it clean. Suddenly he stopped and stared.

"Abba! Abba!" he called, running to where his father worked in the field. "I have an idea! If wood can become a ladder, a ladder can become wood."

Abba blinked a few times. "Huh?"

"We can bring a ladder to Jerusalem, right?" he asked. "It's not firewood. Maybe your brother in Jerusalem…"
"I don't have a brother in Jerusalem," Abba interrupted.

"I know, but the Syrian-Greeks don't. Listen!" Yossi danced from foot to foot. "We can take the ladder when we go to the city for Shavuot. We would have to go early, so it doesn't look like we're making a pilgrimage. If we are stopped, we can say you got word that your brother in Jerusalem, the one with lots of dovecotes, needed a new ladder. So you're bringing it as a gift for him. Then, once we're there, we can take it apart and give it to the priests so they can burn our offering."

"How do we explain the sheep we'll bring?"
"Another gift for your brother. Maybe bring all the family, and say it's for a special family event."

Abba was silent for a long moment. "You know, that just might work. I'll discuss it with Imma." He clapped Yossi's shoulder. "Let's go and tell her your idea."

Imma, Rivka, Yossi and Abba talked and talked, turning Yossi's idea over and over until they had a real plan. Abba set off to ask a neighbor to keep an eye on their home while they were gone.

Meanwhile, Imma and Rivka started preparing food for the trip. As she worked Imma said to Yossi, "You know, God always has a plan. Everything happens for a reason. You took wood you shouldn't have touched and made something specific, a ladder, out of it. But you were very sorry you disobeyed, right?" Yossi nodded.

Imma continued, "Abba and I didn't say anything, but we noticed how hard you have been working. We know it has been your way of saying you regret your actions. I think you learned a lesson.

"To me, it looks like God used that wood for two purposes: to teach you something about obeying--a lesson everyone especially needs to know with the Syrian-Greeks in charge. And also so you would come up with a way for us to still go to the Temple to serve Him." She nodded as she patted out the dough that would become crackers to take on the trip.

"Now," she said to Yossi, "Go start packing. We leave in the morning."

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This story is based on a story I wrote that was published in Olomeinu in May, 2000.