1600, Posen
Prologue
In the city where the Maharsha lived there was a very wealthy man whose name was Meir. He owned the majority of the food carts in the city square and lived inside a beautiful mansion.
“I own more wealth than half of the people in Posen, but nothing is more valuable in my eyes than you,” Meir would tell his only child, a daughter by the name of Rus, every single day.
Meir’s wife had died. His daughter, Rus, was the apple of his eye and the source of all happiness in his life.
*******
The fateful morning started off like any other. At the break of day Meir rolled out of bed, dressed hurriedly, and donned his tallis and tefillin for a quick prayer. Gone were the days when he would make it a priority to join the minyan in the shul. His drive to build his business overshadowed many of his religious obligations.
