Shabsi lifted his head from the ground and saw something rising from the dirt. So tall, so powerful
S
habsi never burned the scrolls. When it was dark, he raced into the forests surrounding the yeshivah and began to pace back and forth. His heart burned with fiery emotions. He would never be good enough. Never. It would always be people like Shimshon who would steal the admiration and respect of others. He was too strange, too small, too pathetic.
Shabsi angrily brushed away a tear rolling down his cheek.
Well, if you can’t be the hero….
Shabsi bent down and began to trace a form on the dark, forest ground. He took out the scrolls, his mind concentrating so intently as he murmured the words etched upon the parchment, that the sights and sounds of the forest vanished entirely from his consciousness.
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