to open
the door to welcome Elijah the Prophet. It would be a fine thing if
Elijah the Prophet did come, as my mother had said, with a bag on his
shoulders, and if he said to me: "Come, boy." And who else would be to
blame for this but my mother, with her "fall asleep, fall asleep." And
as I was thinking these thoughts, I heard the creaking of the door. My
father stood up and cried: "Blessed art thou who comest in the name of
the Eternal." I looked towards the door. Yes, it was he. He came in so
slowly and so softly that one scarcely heard him. He was a handsome man,
Elijah the Prophet--an old man with a long grizzled beard reaching to
his knees. His face was yellow and wrinkled, but it was handsome and
kindly without end. And his eyes! Oh, what eyes! Kind, soft, joyous,
loving, faithful eyes. He was bent in two, and leaned on a big, big
stick. He had a bag on his shoulders. And silently, softly, he came
straight to me.

"Now, little boy, get into my bag, and come." So said to me the old man,
but in a kind voice, and softly and sweetly.

I asked him: "Where to?" And he replied: "You will see later." I did not
want to go, and he said to me again: "Come." And I began to argue with
him. "How can I go with you when I am a wealthy man's son?" Said he to
me: "And as a wealthy man's son, of what great value are you?" Said I:
"I am the only child of my father and mother." Said he: "To me you are
not an only child!" Said I: "I am fretted over. If they find that I am
gone, they will not get over it, they will die, especially my mother."
He looked at me, the old man did, very kindly, and he said to me, softly
and sweetly as before: "If you do not want to die, then come with me.
Say good-bye to your father and mother, and come." "But, how can I come
when I am an only child, the only one left alive out of seven?"

Then he said to me more sternly: "For the last time, little boy. Choose
one of the two. Either you say good-bye to your father and mother, and
come with me, or you remain here, but fast asleep for ever and ever."

Having said these words, he stepped back from me a little, and was
turning to the door. What was to be done? To go with the old man,
God-knows-where, and get lost, would mean the death of my father and
mother. I am an only child, the only one left alive out of seven. To
remain here, and fall asleep for ever and ever--that would mean that I
myself must die....

I stretched out my hand to him, and with tears i