"How pleasant it is to dwell in Succoth!" exclaimed Mr. Assimilation, a well dressed man whose mien, manner and speech bespoke him a prosperous gentleman of means. His lot had apparently fallen in pleasant circumstances, and he and the surrounding world seemed to live in perfect harmony and agreement.
It was a delightful afternoon, one of those rare afternoons in October, when mature nature unfolds both her strength and glory. The sky was clear and spotless, the air pure and invigorating, the atmosphere animated with the sprightly chirping of whispering birds and the artless prattle of children playing on the closely-mown lawn. We, the elder man-folk, sat chattering and gabbling in our comfortable and beautifully decorated Succah, and the remark of Mr. Assimilation was rather appropriate and could hardly be contradicted by anyone.
However, I ventured to suggest that we,traders and city dwellers as we are, missthe most delightful and interesting significance of our feast which is essentiallya harvest feast (chag ha'asif"); and that,as one of our modern preachers well said,it is indeed a most pathetic and touchingscene to contemplate the ghetto Jew, farfrom field and meadow, from green leafand blooming flowers, celebrating a harvest feast. Moreover, think of this ghettoJew, whose life was one of extreme woeand misery, of daily mourning and wailing, observing with solemn rites andprayer a feast of nature, a season of rejoicing ("zeman simchathenu").
"Well," said Mr. Misogynson, the bachelor of our group, "it is indeed pleasant to dwell in Succoth away from the society of women and their kind. In fact I believe that on this account it is still "a season of rejoicing"; distinguished from all other feasts by granting us the opportunity and privilege of leaving house and
wife, and of enjoying the broader and less sentimental company of men without the intervention of romantic and visionary females."
At this Reb Chaim, the "chasid" of our circle, began to shake his head to and fro, to protrude his lips, and to raise his eyebrows, manoeuvres used by him usually as an introduction to some kind of protest or disagreement. Finally he opened his mouth and spoke: "Methinks that ye find it easy to talk so volubly with your lips of the pleasure and delight of dwelling in tabernacles, as long as your garments are warm, and the earth is quiet; as long as the heavens are not darkened and hidden from your eyes by clouds, and lightning doth not frighten you, and thunder maketh not your heart tremble and move out of its place. But ye shall see that as soon as the rain shall come down from heaven, and penetrate into the tabernacle, and moisten your rainments; as soon as the storm shall break forth from his hiding place and roar like the young lions after their prey, as soon as the marvellous voice of thunder shall be heard; and the cedars of Lebanon shaken; then shall ye in truth faint and be troubled, ye shall flee and hasten away to seek shelter in the house of your fathers built on a firmer basis and a stronger foundation, and rejoice in the comforts of a warm chamber, the wife as a fruitful vine by the side of the house, and the children like olive plants round about the table."
"Well," said, Reb Chaim," I cried extending my hand. "You have struck the right note. It is true we are commanded to dwell in tabernacles, but God never commanded us to sit in the Succah in rainy days or in stormy weather. And if I understand you correctly, my friend, you had in mind the words of our sages, blessed be their memory, who speak of the Succah as the symbol of "goluth" (exile).