Free DISOWNED by Gabriella Murray

who will be left to hold our people together?"  This question tormented her deeply. More and more these days, it gripped her heart. While Rivkah was baking, cleaning, or just sitting beside her, she would turn to her swiftly and ask her, "who?"
       "Don't worry so much, grandma. God will provide for his people."
       "It's easy enough to say that. But it doesn't satisfy me. Before I go, I want to know definitely!"
       "Go lie down and rest."
       "I'll be lying down plenty when the time comes," Devorah breathes heavily then. A long sigh, that turns into a lament."And it's coming soon too. I'm telling you that."
       "Don't talk that way!"
    "Why not?  What's the big problem?  It's coming soon, and that is that. When you're a religious person, if God loves you, when the time is coming, he lets you know.  Then you can get ready to meet him."
       "You don't have to get ready."
      "We all have to get ready. It's good to get ready," then she smiles. "Like we get ready for Sabbath each week. If you get ready for Sabbath like you're supposed to, then God tells you when it's time to get ready for other things too."
    Rivkah's eyes fill with tears.
      "No crying for me either! Just take good care of my kitchen.  Do you hear?"
      "Yes."
       "Very good care. I'll be watching."
    "I will."
       "If there's nobody left to hold up the whole Jewish people, then at least let me know, Rivkah, there's somebody left to keep my kitchen clean."
       This grandmother's kitchen is no small legacy either, Rivkah realizes right then. It is a room to grow into, a kitchen to remember, to take with you wherever you go. How can you forget the rigor of it, the tastes, smells, order, the incredible cleanliness? How can you forget the blessings it brings? 
    People came back to this kitchen after weddings, circumcisions, funerals, shivas. A kitchen like this makes demands on you. But if you don't make use of it, who else can you blame for the hunger you feel?  And for the hunger of all of the wandering Jews?
       Two weeks later, at the end of November, with a cold wind outside and a light snow beginning to fall, Rivkah and her grandmother work silently together in the kitchen. Rivkah is putting some dishes away in the pantry when she suddenly hears Devorah call.
    "Rivkah," the call comes from the bottom of the universe.
     A wild chill goes through Rivkah's every bone.  Without turning around, she knows what is coming.  "Don't go, grandma," she pleads.
       "I have to," Devorah barely mutters from somewhere else already, from some place deep within.
       Rivkah turns and runs to catch her grandmother who is swaying back and forth. Now the entire universe is turning, collapsing. A mighty earthquake is taking place.
    "Grandma," Rivkah calls louder.
       Devorah falls into Rivkah's arms with the weight of a mountain coming down. Rivkah practically collapses under the shock of it, and then, like a small ant pulling a huge load behind it, pulls her grandmother onto the couch in the next room. 
    By then Devorah's breathing is shallow. An enormous light is growing dim. Rivkah feels it as she holds her. The whole world is falling apart inside her arms.
    Stretched out on the couch now, Devorah's breaths come further and further apart.
       "Pray for me," she gasps finally and then with an odd smile, opens her eyes wide.
    Without any control, Rivkah starts praying, and puts her hand over her grandmother's face.
    "Close your eyes, grandma."
       Her grandmother closes them.
    Rivkah keeps praying, and holding her grandmother in her arms.
     It is almost nighttime before anyone else comes in. When her grandfather walks in, he lets out a piercing cry."Dubbie!"
       But by then, Rivkah can barely hear him. For hours she has been sitting in the middle of prayers that have been pouring by themselves from her lips.
       "Put her down, Rivkah."
    By now the prayers themselves are praying Rivkah.
    "Rivkah, do you hear me?  Put