I am so grateful for the opportunity to read to you again from The Tremble of Love.  It is my hope that our “meeting” here at this well of Love adds to the love holding our world now.

Set in what is now western Ukraine, The Tremble of Love, A Novel of the Baal Shem Tov illuminates timeless themes. Central to this story of one of history’s most revered and revolutionary spiritual leaders is the power of Love in the face of destructive forces. The reading featured below reflects the power of compassion in the face of suffering.

In this excerpt, Srolik, who has become a teacher’s assistant, is leading a group of boys through the woods to their small schoolhouse.  Below the video and audio recordings, you can find the text of the passage, preceded by additional context for the passage that is also shared in the video.

Audio only:

Srolik, 14 now, has become a teacher’s assistant.  In this scene, he and the boys he shepherds to their classroom have entered the forest they must traverse to reach their small school building.  Hunched against the assault of a whipping, bitterly cold wind, they are greeted by terrifying, grievous howls whose source they cannot imagine. The children want to run away in fear, but Srolik urges them to remain and to continue singing their “niggun,” the wordless melody he has taught them.   Leaving the younger children in the hands of the older boys, Srolik goes deeper into the forest alone.   The following unfolds upon his return.

Srolik said nothing, moving silently among them, placing his hands on their heads, warming their hands in his own, caressing their faces.

He wondered how to talk to them. Srolik stood before them without words until the words arose.

“Thank you,” he finally said slowly, his voice rising from deep within. “You are all—each one of you—very courageous. I could hear and feel your love and your tenderness.”

He usually spoke to only one or two at a time; he had never spoken to all of them at once.

“When I left you, I was afraid. I felt called to walk towards the source of the wailing without knowing what I was to do. I sang as you sang, hoping our niggun might bring blessing and comfort. When I drew nearer, I saw a man humped over a freshly dug grave surrounded by other new graves.

The grievous howling was so great it did not seem possible that it was coming from that lifeless body, cast over the grave like a worn coat. I took hold of the melody more strongly, telling myself what I had told you: to sing to someone suffering. I lifted my voice, imagining your voices braided with mine.”

Srolik paused, his glance resting on the boys one at a time before he continued.

“I learned that the man, a hunter, had lost his youngest child to illness three weeks ago. The same illness then took his four sons and his remaining daughter, leaving only his wife. The hunter had just finished burying his wife near the graves of his children. So great was his despair that, after covering her grave with a last shovelful of earth, he was preparing to take his own life.”

Srolik let out a long breath, looking directly at the boys who steadied him as he tried to steady them.

“The man’s sorrow had taken on a life of its own, joining with the universal sorrow that has no face or limbs, sorrow that roams desperately over the face of the earth bereft of love. Such heart-rending sorrow pours forth in our world all the time, but only sometimes are we able to hear it. When we entered the forest, we heard the unrestrained despair of a human heart feeling abandoned and believing life to be only suffering.”

Srolik paused. They all breathed in, then out, as one body whose heart beat a little less thunderously now.

“Unable to bear his pain, the hunter lost consciousness. The anguish of his soul found a voice and released itself into the forest. When our tender love touched that grief, it was transformed into grief a man can bear, grief that will open his heart rather than destroy it. This is the power of compassion.

Motke, short of breath but filled with urgency, asked, “What we hear now—are they the sobs of the hunter who did not die?”

“Yes, he weeps, Motke. Pain that we cannot contain escapes as our tears. That a man can weep is a blessing.”

“Will he cry forever?” surged forth from Samuel, his face revealing how greatly it saddened him to imagine this.

“No, dear one, he will not cry forever. Do not worry. He will not live locked inside of his own pain.
When a man’s or woman’s heart is broken, more love may enter.”

Srolik knelt and extended his arms, the youngest entering his embrace.

“Because we did not flee but approached the man’s torment, it was no longer the only force in the hunter’s life. The force of love was present as well. We were the messengers of that love—small lights in the complete darkness enveloping the hopeless father. Although it was the time for those he loved to be taken by Malach Hamoves, the Angel of Death, it was not yet his time.”

Srolik saw that weariness pressed the boys’ shoulders down and added weight to their eyelids. Just an hour earlier their shoulders had been lifted and tightened in terror, their throats constricted and eyes pinned open. Their bodies had endured a great deal. He wished he could touch and soothe each one of them.

“Despite the terror you faced, you were able to find and share your courage with each other, and with a man lacking all hope. Unimaginable power dwells in each of us, power that is magnified—made greater— when we unite. You have made a miracle today, the miracle of life raising life. It is our time, dear ones, to leave this place and continue to the cheyder. You have been lending each other warmth that is beyond the body.”

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A post on Amazon from an anonymous reader of The Tremble of Love.

“Not since reading Siddhartha when I was 16, have I felt this way about a book. Both heartwarming and uplifting, The Tremble of Love moves me to tears of understanding and a deepening inner peace..”

If you missed my previous two readings, you can find them here: 

Listen to Preface and Author’s Note Read by Ani
Ani Reads Opening to Chapter One

If you have not yet read The Tremble of Love, learn more here. You can find information about where to get hardcover, paperback, eBook or audiobook editions here

I shall be gifting readers, i.e., listeners, a short recording (video and audio) every other week. Please, if you are inspired by these recordings and by The Tremble of Love, A Novel of the Baal Shem Tov, share the word with friends and others who may be interested.  And if you haven’t yet, do join the inner circle of readers to make sure to receive coming recordings and other love offerings.

And for those who have already read The Tremble of Love, A Novel of the Baal Shem Tov, or are rereading the novel now, please consider leaving a review on Amazon (even if you got the book elsewhere) and/or Goodreads.  Reviews help the book reach more souls!

May we know and be the power of Love.

Ani