one of the worshipers said. There was just a handful of men gathered before the altar, reading from prayer books. “I think he went to meet with a contractor to get the kitchen back into shape.”“Do you know when he’ll be back?” Lido asked.“I’m not his secretary. He comes. He goes. It’s a free country, no? The faster the damage is repaired, the sooner everyone will come back to worship. Look at us,” he lamented as he cast his gaze at the meager handful of men sitting near the altar. “We usually have twenty men or more, but because of the bombing …”“Do you know anyone here who works with sculpting tools?”He looked confused, then said, “Oh. Yes.” He motioned for us to follow him toward a built-in closet. After opening the door, he reached into a small box and grabbed a handful of stone-carved four-sided tops. “Rabbi Tubman used to work in the jewelry trade. He makes the children dreidels for Hanukkah. They’re lovely, no? And because they’re made of stone, they’ll last forever, a real keepsake for the young ones.”
