Now we're to the mountain, and to
road, and over our heads the tree branches wave
autumn colors. Light flashes through.
"Let's fly now.
"Where would you like to fly this time?
fly to the Promised Land?"
fly to the Promised Land, Grandpa!
Let's fly somewhere new!"
right, all right. Where?"
"Let's fly over the
"Good idea. Ferdeleh! Put on
your magic wings!"
As Ferdeleh slowly pulls the wagon
up the moun-
tain road, magic sparks begin to fall from shimmer-
"We're going to fly."
My face is alight with anticipation,
looks back and seems to nod, and Grandpa now
makes magic with
his voice and hands. "Ssssss . . .
we're leaving the ground . . .we're
flying . . . we're
flying . . . we're flying over the trees . . . we're flying
through the clouds... we're flying over the ocean!"
see an angel. Grandpa."
She's sitting on a cloud... see her?"
finds her. "Yes! I see her now.
Good afternoon, dear angel. How do you
"She's flying away! Good-bye, angel!"
During this, slowly, slowly the wagon slows. Fer-
cannot make the grade, and stops. But there's
no change of rhythm to the magic
of our flying as
Grandpa and I get off the wagon and go around to
back to push.
"Look down there, Grandpa! People in
"Hello, you down there
sailing on the seal" chants
the wagon to help Ferdeleh up the
steep bit of the hill. The wagon is heavy,
horse is old.
"I bet they're very surprised
to see a horse and
wagon flying, eh. Grandpa?"
looks ruefully amused ... as he tires him-
self, pushing the wagon. "They
must be very surprised.
The captain of a
small fishing boat... a painter, in
a smock, sitting on a painter's chair,
before a painter's
easel, sketching the landscape before him, is very sur-
prised to see the old man and boy pushing a horse
and wagon into his scene.
He calls out excitedly to-
ward us. "Perfect! Please don't move! Just
I want to paint you!"
mister," says Grandpa, "but we're flying."
painter takes a moment to let that sink in ...
and we fly on, pushing the
wagon up the hill.
A tablecloth flutters. Red-cross
Grass, dandelions, and daisies.
Grandpa is spreading the tablecloth on the grass.
places a bottle of wine, a bottle of milk, fruit,
sandwiches, tin plates,
napkins for a picnic. Then,
high there in the open air, he says the prayer.
And after, I study the leaves. "How do leaves
change colors. Grandpa?"
Grandpa drinks wine. "God
too, picks up various colored leaves. "He
sends autumn down here and
says, 'Paint the leaves
... paint them red and brown and yellow and deep
purple.'" The wine has made him mellow. "And au-
tumn blows love
into the leaves and changes their
out some leaves and touch them softly. "Au-
tumn blows on them?"
Grandpa creates a mood of love, his fervor grow-
whispers, kisses, caresses . . . makes
love! Autumn makes love to the leaves,
and they feel
so good; they turn red and brown and yellow. When
women feel love, they change their char-
acters . . . they become good and
When leaves feel love, they change their colors."
love you and Ferdeleh and Mamma. Does that
make me good?"
makes you feel good, doesn't it? Loving some-
one always makes you feel good,
and when the Mes-
siah reveals Himself, all men will love one another, and
they will feel good and become good!"
the Messiah coming, Grandpa?" I am im-
patient that the Messiah isn't
The thought of the Messiah begins to transport
Grandpa. He tells me the secret, whispering. "The
Messiah is here. Now."
I think my Grandpa is about to create a miracle,
He gets to his feet and starts
to dance. "This minute.
But He cannot reveal Himself yet." Grandpa
and chants and dances, turning with his arms out-
with evangelical joy. "When no one
will be hungry, He will reveal Himself!"
"When no man will be rich and have too much, and
will be poor and have too little, He will re-
complete awe I watch my Grandpa. God made
manifest on the mountain, again.
Burning bush and
burning autumn leaves.
mighty will no longer oppress the weak,
and peace and justice will reign over
God's earth, He
will reveal Himself!"
his spell, snaring himself and me
in his enchantment; for Grandpa too is entranced,
wonderful whirling dervish, white beard flowing.
"When men leam
love, He will reveal Himself!"
The mountain's crowning
cross rises above him.
Grandpa starts to sing in Yiddish, "What will
when the Messiah comes?" stamping, clapping. "What
happen when the Messiah comes? . . . There will
be a great holiday and joy
will transform the world."
The old man turns on the
mountain. What weight
and power in his hands. Completely enraptured is the
sparrow and the squirrel. And when tomorrow comes,
can we be the same?