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The Carob Tree
Far off, perched on a lonely height in the Judean hills, grows a carob tree.
Gnarled and twisted, but still alive, it stands as a sentinel, watching, century
after century, over the approaches to Jerusalem. Few know if its existence;
still fewer of its story.
It was in the days of the Romans, during the siege of Jerusalem, that the story
of the tree begins, at a time when the Romans were scouring every hill and
valley to find trees suitable to make battering rams to break down the walls of
the Jewish capital.
On the height where this tree now stands lived a Jewish farmer and his son. The
people roundabout called the farmer the "Man of Rock", for he was as strong and
sturdy as the rock upon which he had built his home.
For many days this single warrior and his son safeguarded the road to Jerusalem.
From this steep hill, they fought like tigers against the Romans. In vain the
invaders bit their lips in shame and anger; two single Hebrews blocked the path.
They gathered their forces, and with hundreds of soldiers they surrounded the
mountain. The people of Jerusalem saw all that transpired on the distant hill,
and from afar they sent their prayers to the "Man of Rock" and to his son. The
"Man of Rock" knew that he would not be able to hold out much longer against the
Romans. He therefore called his son and said to him: "Tonight we shall break
through to Jerusalem. Cleanse yourself, gird on your sword, and prepare!"
By devious paths father and son arrived in Jerusalem. The Romans vented their
wrath upon the hill, destroying everything they found there, uprooting the trees
and sowing salt over the land. Titus ordered that the hill remain forever
waste, that man not set foot on it, and that neither plant nor tree ever rise
there. Titus' order was proclaimed throughout the camp and the news reached
besieged Jerusalem as well. The "Man of Rock" and his son heard the order and
their hearts were saddened.
In one of the fierce battles, the "Man of Rock" was mortally wounded. He was
removed from the field of battle, and his son tended him at his bedside. The
wounded hero lay prone, his flaming eyes regarding his son with love and pity.
"My days are numbered. How good it is that I shall be allowed to close my eyes
in holy Jerusalem. In my ears, however, there drums the order of Titus to put
our hill to waste; to destroy every tree and every plant. Let not this evil
come to pass!" He gathered the last bit of his strength, and fixed his eyes on
the distance: "I see from afar our home that is destroyed, and our trees that
are hewn. I shall know no peace in the grave if you, my son, will not
cultivate this place."
The boy fell at his father's feet, placed his hand upon his heart and swore:
"So long as I live I will not forget the hill. I shall remember it, shall
remove its sorrow and plant on it a tree." The father's face lit up. Once
again he fixed his eyes on the distance, regarded his son with a look full of
love and died.
The walls of Jerusalem were battered down. The Temple was set aflame. The
heroes of Judea fell in battle, and those that survived were taken into
captivity. Guards were still kept on the hill of the "Man of Rock" to see to it
that the order of Titus not to plant in that place was carried out.
But the boy kept faith. In a hidden cave he raised a carob sapling and guarded
it carefully. On the eve of the 15th day of Shevat, when rain clouds hovered
over the mountains, the boy stole away from under the very eyes of the Roman
guards, and made his way to the hill. It began to rain and the valley and hills
became flooded. The boy made his way through the water. Stones impeded his
path. He fell but went on. Soaked and trembling with cold, he climbed on and
on, by way of hidden paths, carrying the young sapling in his frozen hands,
pressing it to his warm heart.
By dawn the boy had reached the top of the hill, the scene of his childhood.
With his nails he dug into the rocky soil, and planted the carob sapling. The
sun of Tu B'Shevat rose on the mountains. Rays of gold flooded the destroyed
city, its hills and bare rock, and lit up the form of the boy coming down the
mountainside. At that moment the Roman guards spied the lad stealing away and
shot at him with flights of deadly arrows.
The boy died, but the seedling took root and grew. The carob tree sent out
leaves and branches. It spread its leafy crown over the hill, and struck deep
roots into the soil of the Homeland.
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