e, and wept. 'Go,' said He, 'I cannot listen to
thee.'... But she exclaimed... 'Dost Thou no longer remember the tears I
shed before I gave birth to my Joseph and Benjamin... and dost Thou
not remember the day when they buried me yonder, on the borders of the
Promised Land... and now, must mine eyes behold the slaughter of my
children, their disgrace, and their captivity?'... Then God cried: 'For
_thy_ sake will I remember thy children and spare them.'..."

"Would you like to know," Gudule suddenly cried, with uplifted voice,
"what this _Sechus_ is like? It has the form of an angel, and it stands
near the Throne of the Almighty.... But, since the days of Rachel, our
mother, it is the _Sechus_ of a mother that finds most favor in God's
eyes. When a mother dies, her soul straightway soars heavenward, and
there it takes its place amid the others.

"'Who art thou?' asks God, 'I am the _Sechus_ of a mother,' is the
answer, 'of a mother who has left children behind her on earth.' 'Then
do thou stand here and keep guard over them!' says God. And when it is
well with the children, it is the _Sechus_ of a mother which has caused
them to prosper, and when evil days befall them... it is again the Angel
who stands before God and pleads: 'Dost Thou forget that these children
no longer have a mother?'... and the evil is averted...."

Gudule's voice had sunk to a mere whisper. Her eyes closed, her head
fell back, her breathing became slower and more labored. "Are you still
there, children?" she softly whispered.

Anxiously they bent over her. Then once again she opened her eyes,
"I see you still"--the words came with difficulty from her blanched
lips--"you, Ephraim, and you, my little Viola.... I am sure my _Sechus_
will plead for you... for you and your father." They were Gudule's last
words. When her children, whose eyes had never as yet been confronted
with Death, called her by her name, covering her icy hands with burning
kisses, their mother was no more....

Who can tell what influence causes the downtrodden blade to raise itself
once more! Is it the vivifying breath of the west wind, or a mysterious
power sent forth from the bosom of Mother Earth? It was a touching sight
to see how those two children, crushed as they were beneath the
weight of a twofold blow, raised their heads again, and in their very
desolation found new-born strength. And it filled the Ghetto with
wonder. For what were they but the offspring of a gambler?