The Strain [antikvár]

The Legend of Jusef Sardu"g ^Wnce upon a time," said Abraham Setrakian's grand-I I mother, "there was a giant."V^^^X Young Abraham's eyes brightened, and immediately the cabbage borscht in the wooden bowl got tastier, or at least less garlicky. He was a pale boy, underweight and sickly. His grandmother, intent on fattening him, sat across from him while he ate his soup, entertaining him by spinning a yarn.A bubbeh meiseh, a "grandmother's story." A fairy tale. A legend."He was the son of a Polish nobleman. And his name was Jusef Sardu. Master Sardu stood taller than any other man. Taller than any roof in the village. He had to bow deeply to enter any door. But his great height, it was a burden. A disease of birth, not a blessing. The young man suffered. His muscles lacked the strength to support his long, heavy bones. At times it was a struggle for him just to walk. He used a cane, a tall sticktaller than youwith a silver handle carved into the shape of a wolf's head, which was the family crest.""Yes, Bubbeh?" said Abraham, between spoonfuls."This was his lot in life, and it taught him humility, which is a rare thing indeed for a nobleman to possess. He had so much compassionfor the poor, for the hardworking, for the sick. He was especially dear to the children of the village, and his9