Long, long ago, there lived in the old town of Sidon a happy couple
named Abraham and Ada. Although they loved one another very much, still
there was something wanting to complete their happiness. They had been
married for nearly ten years, but they had not been blessed with a
child. Ofttimes Ada would sit in her room and weep. She prayed every
day to God to fulfil her desire by giving her a son or a daughter.
Abraham did his best to comfort her by telling her that all would come
right in time. Nevertheless, he felt very sad when he came home and
thought of the future. He would have given anything to have had a
little son who might be taught the holy religion which he loved so
well. The neighbours in their street were none too kind and they
slighted Ada. This made her grief more bitter.
Did not the people often say in Abraham’s hearing that children are a
token of God’s blessing? Was it not true that the house which lacked
the merry laughter of little innocent children was under a curse or
spell? Did not the holy Law teach that it was a religious duty to marry
and to have children? Would it not be better, he argued with himself,
to divorce his wife, if, after being married for ten years, she had no
child? She might marry another man and have children and so find her
happiness. All these thoughts flashed again and again through his mind.
At last when the anniversary of their tenth marriage day arrived,
Abraham said to his wife,—
“Let us visit to-day our true friend Rabbi Simeon, the son of Jochai.”
When they came before the famous master, Abraham, with tears in his
eyes, said,—
“O good Rabbi! My dear wife has been faithful to me and loving during
the past ten years. It has pleased our Heavenly Father to withhold from
us the blessing of children. I fear this is on account of my many sins.
It seems to me that our home henceforth will not be as happy as it
should be; my wife grieves over her barrenness and I fret because she
is unhappy. Is it not my duty to set her free?”
Whilst Abraham was speaking, his wife wept. She knew that if he sent
her away from his heart and home, her life would be utterly miserable
and unendurable. Her genuine sorrow touched the heart of her husband,
who turned to her and exclaimed,—
“My dear and sweet wife! be calm and do not grieve, for we must ever
submit to the will of Providence. Do not think that I am not ofttimes
sad, because we have no child to cheer your long days. If I could only
give you some substitute, I would most gladly do so. Listen, dearest! I
now faithfully promise to allow you to choose whatever you like best in
our home and you may take it with you to your father’s house as a
keepsake when you leave me for good. This will always be a visible
token of the deep affection and true love which united us during the
past ten years.”
The Rabbi watched his guests with sympathetic eyes. He knew that
Abraham had made up his mind to divorce his worthy wife. Nothing would
make him waver. With a merry twinkle in his far-seeing eye, he began to
address them, saying,—
“My dear children! I can only pity you, for I am deeply grieved to see
how you are about to lose one another. Before you finally part,
however, let me advise you to invite this day your good friends to a
farewell banquet, even as they gathered around you ten years ago at
your marriage feast. Love united you and in love prepare to separate,
if it must be.”
The wise master was in hopes that all the old ties would be revived by
the presence of the family circle of friends and that love would still
hold them together. Abraham and Ada promised to follow the advice of
the Rabbi and they returned home.
Ada at once sent to all their friends and provided a most liberal
banquet. Her husband sat beside her as usual, and she took care that
his wine-glass was constantly refilled. Good cheer made the company
very happy, and Abraham determined to spend a jolly evening for the
last time in the company of his wife, whom he really loved.
Ada had carefully prepared her plans. Her husband had toasted each of
his guests, and soon the excellent wine which he drank sent him into a
deep sleep. Without a moment’s delay, Ada beckoned to her servants to
come to her. She told them to lift up the armchair in which her husband
sat asleep and to carry it at once to her father’s house in a
neighbouring street. The company looked on in surprise, and guessing
the meaning of what they saw, they took their departure.
Meanwhile Abraham, fast asleep, had been carried to his new quarters.
He was put in a beautiful room, with Ada at his side waiting for him to
awaken. At dawn the effect of the wine began to wear off and he awoke.
Looking around with great surprise, he exclaimed,—
“Where am I?”