Rivka Elitsur is known for her beautiful children’s stories steeped in Jewish traditions and moral values. Without being overtly didactic, she manages to adapt traditional Rabbinic tales for children, or weave traditional motives into some of her modern works. Using these traditional tales and motives in her writings, she grants them additional meanings to those familiar and traditionally accepted.   יונתן וסבאקטן   , Yonatan and Littlegrandpa ( to read English translation click  Yonatan and Littlegrandpa - Translation ) is one such story.

Yonatan is a small child. He lives in his ancient family home. While spending time alone, high on a tree in his garden, he looks down and sees his grandfather sleeping on the bench below.  With no one else to play with, Yonatan wishes that his old and tired grandfather were a little boy, who could join him in his play. Magically, his wish is granted; Yonatan removes an invisible pile of rocks from the old man’s back, and there appears Littlegrandpa, a boy of his age. Littlegrandpa wakes up and spends time playing with Yonatan. Gradually though, he becomes  bewildered. The garden is the one he knows, but he notices changes that puzzle him. The sapling, that he remembers just planting, has disappeared. In its place stands a large tree. Littlegrandpa cannot find his tools, the tool shed, the goats’ shed or the kids that his father gave him the day they were born. When he enters his childhood home, he recognizes the place, but is surprised to see different curtains, tablecloth and rug. What is familiar though, and comforting, is the smell of the Shabbat cake coming out of the kitchen. While entering the kitchen, expecting his mother and a piece of cake, he is startled to find a strange woman (Yonatan’s mother). Overwhelmed and at a loss in this known/unknown world, he rushes around the house and outside in a frantic, futile search for his parents. The loss of his childhood world, not recovered with his childhood self, sinks in. He is heartbroken. Realizing that the experiment “didn’t work”, Yonatan’s transfers the rocks onto Littlegrandpa’s back, and Grandpa returns to his current elderly self. Now, Yonatan is relieved and accepts his old Grandpa lovingly as he is.

The analysis of the story offered here, is based in part on work done several years ago with a group of  Grade Six and Seven students in a Hebrew day school in western Canada. This group can be described mostly as Heritage language students (children of Hebrew speakers). Elitsur’s story has been used a few times with adult learners of Hebrew as well, but not yet in a Bet level Mini Ulpan. The issues dealt with in this complex story, the way it draws from the Talmudic text and uses its motives creatively can provide the adult learners of Hebrew with fulfilling artistic and thematic stimulation as well as a glimpse into of the riches of classical Jewish texts. Through this story, students can get an idea of the extent to  which Modern Hebrew literature draws inspiration from its classical heritage, a phenomenon not limited to children’s literature, but apparent in the adult Hebrew culture in general.    

The inspiration for the story  is, no doubt the famous Talmudic tale about Rabbi Honni, the Circle Maker (Bialik & Ravnitsky, 1936. p. 6. , to read English translation click  Honni the Circle Maker - translation). Honni comes across a man planting a carob tree. The man tells him that the carob bears fruit only after seventy years. Since the man will surely not live to enjoy its fruits, Honni wonders why he is still planting it. The man answers that his forefathers planted for him, therefore, he is planting now for his children. Honni falls asleep, and a rock rises miraculously and encloses him. He sleeps for seventy years. When he wakes up, he finds the man's grandson gathering the carob fruits. Honni goes back home and asks for his son. His son, he is told, died, but his grandson is alive. Honni goes on to Beit Hamidrash, the academy/house of learning, and introduces himself to the Rabbis. The Rabbis, who know of him and who respect and study his transmitted wisdom, do not believe him. He is unsettled and hurt. He grieves in a world that does not recognize him any more, and does not give him his due respect. He prays for mercy (death) and dies. The tale concludes with the Aramaic saying: ‘Either companionship or death’.

            The practice of intertextuality is an integral part of  the tradition of transmitting and imparting Jewish teachings. Borrowing from texts of previous generations and creatively applying what is borrowed to new situations and ideas is common. Rivka Elitsur is doing the same in her story. . The story can be defined as ambivalent children’s literature (see above, p. 7)[RH1] . She uses motives taken from Honni’s tale, but manipulates them cleverly beyond their original meanings in order to treat issues of old age, image, transmission of traditions and values, on different levels. Her framework is indeed a children story, but the treatment of these problems is complex and sophisticated enough to appeal to the adults. She also follows another age-old tradition of telling, what on the surface may seem a simple tale, but in fact conveys deep meaning and wisdom. The young child cannot, of course, detect the borrowed themes and motives and the transformation of their meanings. Reading closely, the adult reader of such a well textured children’s story, who is versed in classical Jewish texts, can detect its motives and realise its complex, layered make up. Similarly, young adults and adult learners of Hebrew, who are presented with the two stories, the old and the new, can greatly benefit from them on various levels. In the Bet level, students are certainly able find the parallels and the differences between the two stories and discuss them. 

            The story deals deeply with difficult human problems and dilemmas. Before delving into them, it would be worthwhile finding the motives appearing in the Talmudic tale and their reappearance, now transformed, in Elitsur’s story:

On its surface, Elitsur’s story deals with values, traditions and their transmission to further generations. Continuity is apparent; the tree planted by Littlegrandpa, is enjoyed by Yonatan; both Yonatan and Littlegrandpa treat nature (the birds) kindly; the smell of the Shabbat cake if familiar - the Shabbat is kept through the generations, even though the bakers, those practising the tradition, keep changing.

Honni’s tale too, deals with continuity and the passing of traditions. The man planting the carob accepts the course of time, of life and death. He is happy to leave his offspring a heritage which they will enjoy without his physical presence beside them. Honni find this difficult. He hears the discussion in Bet Hamidrash revolving around the questions he had debated in his days. The Rabbis quote him with respect and admit to virtually sensing his presence. But he is not satisfied with virtual existence; he wants their acknowledgement of his physical presence. He tells them, “I am Honni”, but they do not believe him. They are connected to the past, but at the same time autonomous, self reliant They can carry on with their investigations into previous teachings and develop them further in a way compatible with their times. Honni’s teachings are alive, but he himself has no place in the current generation. Honni has difficulty departing and letting the new generation continue in its endeavours, just as the person planting the carob tried to teach him.

In Elitsur’s story, Yonatan, the younger generation, shows the potential, not only of carrying on but developing tradition  further. Even  while  climbing a tree which he received from his grandfather, he finds a better way among its branches. He has received the traditions and values of his family and culture but is capable of applying them to his times better than Littlegrandpa could have done.

שניהם היו זריזים ומהירים, אך יונתן הגיע ראשון, כי הכיר היטב את כל הענפים שאפשר להאחז בהם...

Both were agile, but Yonatan arrived first, because he knew well all the branches that one could hold to.

Honni has difficulty accepting the fact that only his heritage is passed on, but his life is not eternal. He surrenders to reality with much grief, and asks for his death.

Littlegrandpa too, cannot find his place in Yonatan’s world. He is bewildered and grieving, but unlike Honni, he is not conscious of the time travel. The one conscious of it, Yonatan, realises that,     זה לא הצליח   it didn’t work, and reluctantly amends the violation of the natural course of time and returns the rocks of years to Littlegrandpa’s back.

In her story, Elitsur deals with our ambivalence towards old age; she opposes the idea of miserable, futile, futureless existence in contrast to one filled with respect, appreciation and gratitude. At the onset of the story, Yonatan looks at his sleepy inactive Grandpa with pity. Later, when he discovers the invisible rocks on his back  מסכן סבא... איזה משא כבד! Poor Grandpa… what a heavy load!  he exclaims. His image of old age is negative. He sees the rocks on his grandfather’s back as an insufferable burden, and readily removes them. But his grandfather’s image of himself, we realise at the end of the story, is different. When he wakes up from his nap on the bench, there is no indication of bitterness in his conduct. His self image is positive. He does not impress us as a person who regards his passing years as a burden. Rather, he is the elder, who is content with his valuable life and the heritage he succeeded in passing on. The real Grandpa was not involved in Yonatan’s failed dreamy experiment to turn back the wheel of time. He has no difficulty accepting his old age. Unlike Honni, who is clinging to times not his own and demanding acknowledgement and not accepting the ability of future generation to carry on, Yonatan’s grandfather is relaxed and accepting. Like the man planting the carob, he has transmitted the values and traditions (ie., the tree, kind treatment of nature, the Shabbat) to the next generations and is not troubled or dismayed by his life approaching its end.

It is Yonatan though, who has to learn this lesson.  By the end of the story, Yonatan understands that Littlegrandpa cannot live outside of his time. He cannot co-exist with him and take part in his new world. Now, self-reliant, he is ready to allow Littlegrandpa to transform back into his old-age self. When Yonatan wakes up from his dream, he can see his grandfather differently than he saw him before. His grandfather is a happy man who smilingly invites Yonatan to join him in enjoying the Shabbat cake (the transmitted tradition) and his company as he is, and as long as he is around.

Elitsur’s story emulates the lesson learned from the man planting the carob. It encourages  a sense of reliance on future generations to carry on independently, be autonomous in  developing ideas derived from the cultural heritage, without the physical presence of previous authority. The transmission of wisdom is not attached to the person. It can survive a person’s death. Accepting old age and death is about admitting that      לא עליך המלאכה לגמור It is not incumbent on you to finish the task, as Rabbi Tarfon says. One cannot achieve it all in a life time, but has to let others carry on.