A Walk to School

Samual thought it was just a school day.

The morning sunshine was bright, and the early birds were flying overhead as he walked to the synagogue.

“Good morning, Samual,” said Mrs. Bernstein as he walked past her yard. She was in her garden, tending to the Crocus, Daffodils and many other flowers. Their scent was almost overpowering, but still nice.

“Good morning, Mrs. Bernstein.”

“Your big day is coming up. Isn’t your bar mitzvah next week?”

“Yes, it is. I’m headed to Hebrew school now to study.”

“Good, good. Study hard. I’m sure you’ll make your parents proud.”

I hope so.”

He waved goodbye and kept walking. He would try to study hard, but most of it was boring. Samual had pretty much given up on the idea of becoming fluent in Hebrew and was just concentrating on memorizing the pronunciation of the words he’d need to read from the Torah and haftorah during the ceremony. Then there were the endless lessons in Jewish history. He knew that was important to the rabbi, but really wasn’t the future more important? Who really cared what the Maccabees did 2,000 years ago? He didn’t.

He was just approaching the steps of the synagogue when the black van came screeching in a hard right turn around the corner in front of him, roaring down the road. He saw three flags flying from the back. The one nearest him bore a swastika.

The side doors of the van opened as Samual threw himself flat. Gunfire erupted and he saw a man with an AK-47 spraying the front of the synagogue as the van raced by. Then the van was speeding away, and he lay there shaking. No, it wasn’t just a school day, and Samual realized his history had finally caught up with him.