Hunched, crooked, and in constant pain, she lived in the shadows of society—unwanted
and unloved. Yet hope stirred in her heart when she heard a certain rabbi would be
at the synagogue.
She heard the whispers, saw the disapproving stares. She accepted that she was tainted,
different—other. She never thought it could be any other way.
Broken, bleeding, and left for dead, a traveler struggles to accept help from the
unlikeliest of people.
After a lifetime without sight, he knew most people were blind toward him, too. At
best, he hoped for a few coins tossed his way out of pity. Why should this day be
any different?
He was tormented in mind and body, no longer fit for human company. Some said he was
barely human at all. But even in his darkness, he could see the light.
The law said she must live apart, alone. And for years she did. She was untouchable,
and she could not touch another person—certainly not a rabbi.