I remained a Jew thanks to the Schpol Grandfather.

How do I come to mention the Schpol Grandfather? What has the Schpol
Grandfather to do with it, you ask?

The Schpol Grandfather was no Schpol Grandfather then. He was a young
man, suffering exile from home and kindred, wandering with a troop of
mendicants from congregation to congregation, from friendly inn to
friendly inn, in all respects one of them. What difference his heart may
have shown, who knows? And after these journeyman years, the time of
revelation had not come even yet. He presented himself to the Rabbinical
Board in Wilna, took out a certificate, and became a Shochet in a
village. He roamed no more, but remained in the neighborhood of Wilna.
The Misnagdim, however, have a wonderful _flair_, and they suspected
something, began to worry and calumniate him, and finally they denounced
him to the Rabbinical authorities as a transgressor of the Law, of the
whole Law! What Misnagdim are capable of, to be sure!

As I said, I was then six years old. He used to come to us to slaughter
small cattle, or just to spend the night, and I was very fond of him.
Whom else, except my father and mother, should I have loved? I had a
teacher, a passionate man, a destroyer of souls, and this other was a
kind and genial creature, who made you feel happy if he only looked at
you. The calumnies did their work, and they took away his certificate.
My teacher must have had a hand in it, because he heard of it before
anyone, and the next time the Shochet came, he exclaimed "Apostate!"
took him by the scruff of his coat, and bundled him out of the house. It
cut me to the heart like a knife, only I was frightened to death of the
teacher, and never stirred. But a little later, when the teacher was
looking away, I escaped and began to run after the Shochet across the
road, which, not far from the house, lost itself in a wood that
stretched all the way to Wilna. What exactly I proposed to do to help
him, I don't know, but something drove me after the poor Shochet. I
wanted to say good-by to him, to have one more look into his nice,
kindly eyes.

But I ran and ran, and hurt my feet against the stones in the road, and
saw no one. I went to the right, down into the wood, thinking I would
rest a little on the soft earth of the wood. I was about to sit down,
when I heard a voice (it sounded like his voice) farther on in the wood,
half speaking and half singing. I went softly towards the voic