Next Year in Jerusalem [antikvár]

INTRODUCTION: ONLY YESTERDAY As we sat around the table on New Year's Eve eating the traditional chicken soup, Hemdat, my father-in-law, read us excerpts from Only Yesterday, a story written by his father, Shai Agnon, the most influential figure in modern Hebrew literature. Usually the serving of chicken soup is accompanied by proclamations—who wants theirs without noodles, or who especially loves onion, carrots, or zucchini. This time there was silence: we sat mesmerized by Hemdat's voice and the story of Isaac Kumer, who spent long years in the Diaspora longing for the Land of Israel. Hemdat paused to explain phrases to my children and their cousins and smiled in all the places where we, the adults, were not certain of the author's intentions. I listened to the old-fashioned language and watched Hemdat's smile, and I could feel Isaac Kumer's yearning for the Land of Israel. I remembered the stories told by my grandmother, who spent most of her childhood making the journey from Russia to the Land of Israel on foot. This is how Agnon begins: