Alexei's Doubts & The First Great Leap of Faith

 

Alexei had been instructed to proceed due east on the rutted road leaving his village. He held the reins and urged the horses forward in the dark. My Great Great (multiplied by a large number) Grandmother Mruczek, curled up on an old blanket, on the floorboards. The Baal Shem Tov was praying quite loudly, and fervently, it seemed to Alexei, in a language that was quite unknown to him. 

A couple of hours passed this way and Alexei was becoming increasingly irritated by the irrationality of traveling at night and the uncertainty about the destination or purpose of the voyage. Also, he was none too pleased with the incessant chanting. However, he couldn't even broach any of these subjects with the Baal Shem Tov until he finished his prayers. 

When the wagon became quiet, except for the sounds of the wheels turning, the springs squeaking, and the jolting on the uneven road, Alexei determined that perhaps he could ask his employer what their plans were. 

“Reb Yisrael,” he began, “where are we headed to at this hour and when are we likely to arrive?”

The Baal Shem Tov sighed and took a deep breath. He sighed once more and he cleared his throat. Then, he said nothing at all for so long that Alexei was convinced that there was no answer to his question forthcoming. Then, the Baal Shem Tov cleared his voice once more and began to speak. 

“Alexei, you shouldn't bother yourself with matters that are not of any concern to you. I told you, when I introduced myself to you, that you will need to follow my instructions without questioning. You will learn to trust me. For now, you need to act on that trust even before it is developed. So, this one and only time I will answer your questions. In the future, you will just do what needs to be done.”

A few minutes passed before the Baal Shem Tov continued speaking. “We will go from here directly to Moskve, in the heart of Russia. We will arrive there shortly before sunrise. We will be there for only a few hours, leaving by midday. From there, we will proceed to Liozna, in Lithuania, where a great sage will soon be born. We will have time for a meal there. We will feed and rest the horses in Liozna, as well. From there, we will make a quick stop in Safed, which is in the Holy Land, not very far from Jerusalem, which I presume that you have heard of. We will be arriving in Safed around one hundred and fifty years ago. In Safed we will complete our current mission. We will be back at your cottage, in time for your evening meal tomorrow.”

“But, Reb Yisrael, Moskve is thousands of versts from here!” Alexei exclaimed. Alexei didn't bother even questioning the rest of the impossible itinerary. 

The Baal Shem Tov sighed once more. “Yes, Alexei. But I know a shortcut. So, be quiet so I can meditate. I will let you know when we need to turn off this road.” 

The wagon proceeded, once again in relative silence. Alexei presumed that his employer had lied to him and had no intention of giving a straight answer to any of his questions.

The wagon was moving through a particularly dense forest. Trees crowded the road on both sides, with branches extending overhead, obscuring any view of the night sky. It was very dark, making traveling treacherous. 

They moved forward quite slowly and with caution. It was so quiet that Alexei was listening to the breathing of the horses and hoping against all logic that the horses could see where they were going because he certainly couldn't. Mruczek slept on and off, as cats are inclined to do. Alexei assumed that perhaps the Baal Shem Tov was also sleeping, except for an odd feeling that the Yid may have been watching him. Alexei had serious misgivings about the agreements that he had made with this very demanding employer. 

The pace of the horses had slowed to a crawl when the Baal Shem Tov spoke up. “Here, Alexei, just up on the left, we will find a narrow parting of the trees. There is a pathway just barely wide enough for the wagon. This is where we turn.” Alexei shook his head, bit his tongue, and followed the instructions. 

This pathway was smoother than the road that they had been on and soon widened some as well. The wagon rolled on until they reached a small clearing and a tiny shtetl. 

The Baal Shem Tov told Alexei to stop at the first small house and wait in the wagon for him. He disembarked and knocked on the wooden door. A bearded man opened the door and stepped out. The two men entered into a hushed conversation there, in the middle of the night, in a tiny shtetl, as if this was perfectly normal for both of them. Then, the Baal Shem Tov climbed back into the wagon, signaling that the voyage was to continue with a wave of his hand.

The wagon rolled through the shtetl and the pathway came to a wide rushing river, an abrupt ending at the remains of a bridge that had collapsed long ago. Alexei pulled the wagon to a stop.

“Nu?” said the Baal Shem Tov. “This is where we cross. I didn't tell you to stop.”

Alexei turned and looked directly at the passenger before speaking. The Baal Shem Tov stared back at him with piercing eyes, causing Alexei to doubt his own better judgment. Nonetheless, he spoke up. “Reb Yisrael, the bridge is washed out. We can't cross here.”

The Baal Shem Tov retorted, “We most certainly can. The bridge might very well be washed out for now but it was a perfectly good bridge fifty years ago. We will travel on that bridge. Just get the horses running fast enough and we will be on the other side in no time.”

Alexei opened his mouth but no words came out. He looked at the Baal Shem Tov, who seemed very sure of himself. He looked at the river that seemed deadly, equally sure of itself. He looked back at the Baal Shem Tov, who waved his hand in the direction of the nonexistent bridge. Alexei sighed. He crossed himself before snapping the whip to encourage his horses forward. As the road below the wagon disappeared, the horses and the wagon raised into the starry sky, sailing gracefully over the raging river.

A Cat and the Baal Shem Tov 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/the-baal-shem-tov-and-cat.html

How Mruczek - The One Who Purrs - Came to Live with Alexei  

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/how-mruczek-one-who-purrs-came-to-live.html

Alexei's Inheritance, Mruczek the Cat and the Mysterious Traveler 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/alexeis-inheritance-mruczek-cat-and.html

Alexei and Mruczek Learn to Read

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/alexei-and-mruczek-learn-to-read.html?m=1

Alexei's Doubts & The Great First Leap of Faith 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/alexeis-doubts-great-first-leap-of-faith.html

Alexei and Mruczek Learn to Read

 What plans that the mysterious traveling Yid might have for him were surely beyond Alexei’s imagination. As soon as the Baal Shem Tov was beyond the threshold of the cottage, Alexei began to question if the stranger had ever even been there. The entire incident - a strange Jew inspiring visions, pressing money on him, and eliciting promises of blind loyalty on his part - was frankly surreal. The visitor might have been a spirit or a demon. Alexei might have essentially created the encounter in a dream. 

The money that the Yid gave Alexei, however, was positive proof that the visitor had been of flesh and blood. When Alexei added the money that he had received from the Baal Shem Tov to his inheritance cash, he assuredly thought himself quite wealthy, for a young peasant. By the next day Alexei gave up on the internal debate about what all this strangeness meant, and set off to spend that money. 

Alexei went to the shoemaker and arranged for a very nice pair of boots to be made to fit his feet. Until then, he had always worn cast off shoes that, at best, sort of fit. From there, he went to the tailor and was measured for a suit, a totally new experience for Alexei. Alexei purchased a new hat and coat from a furrier. At the tavern, Alexei bought a pricey bottle of vodka, as well as a pouch of imported tobacco. On the way home, he bought a pregnant sow, in anticipation of tasty suckling pigs. Alexei overpaid for each of these luxuries. 

That evening, Alexei assured that his new sow was comfortable in a pen and then drank himself into a stupor. Mruczek watched with dismay that she would not be receiving any tidbits that evening. She satisfied her hunger with a rat from the rafters instead. Beggars can't be choosers. 

Although Alexei had spent quite a bit of money outfitting himself, the clothes and the boots were indeed comfortable. Alexei carried himself with broader confidence and a bit of swagger when walking through the village. He nodded to the men he encountered along the way, with a sense of equality if not superiority. He looked at peasant girls directly, with admiration, imagining how they each might look underneath their clothes. Any shyness and insecurity of youth on Alexei’s part had been quite banished. 

Days had passed for Alexei as such without concerns of any significance, particularly any concerns about the Baal Shem Tov and the contractual agreements. Therefore, when there was a knock on the cottage door, Alexei was surprised to see a new stranger standing on his threshold and unprepared for what was to unfold. 

The man at the door was immaculately dressed in the latest European style which was beginning to be popular in the urban centers of the Russian Empire. He was clean shaven and wearing spectacles. The man would have looked modern and dapper even in Saint Petersburg. He absolutely looked out of place in the primitive village where Alexei’s cottage stood. “You are Alexei, I presume. I have been sent to educate you,” this stranger said. Alexei opened his door, welcomed the man in, and offered him a cup of tea. 

Alexei also offered his guest some tobacco, which was readily accepted. They both sat at the table, smoking pipes while waiting for the water to heat for the samovar and their tea. 

While they smoked and waited, the guest introduced himself as Sergey and informed Alexei that he had been traveling for days by train, coach, and on foot. Sergey explained that an odd Yid with a peddler’s sack came to his house in Saint Petersburg and hired him. He was paid a year's salary in advance, and instructed to come without delay to this remote village for the sole purpose of educating Alexei. 

Nowadays, schooling is nearly universal and literacy is the norm. In those days, that was not true. Most of the common people lived their lives without ever learning to read. Alexei was of peasant stock and was as unschooled as most. He was a bit intimidated by the thought of learning something as esoteric as reading. But, what could Alexei do but acquiesce, as this was part of the Baal Shem Tov’s plan for him? 

Without delay, Sergey began teaching Alexei the Russian Aleph Beis. Before long, the ah, beh, veh of the mysterious Cyrillic curling script began to develop order and started making sense in the bright young peasant's mind. Sergey was a good teacher and Alexei was a quick learner. 

Many a day, and late into the night by candlelight, Alexei studied. Mruczek would look on. Between meals and catnaps, she also learned to read a bit, which is a very rare accomplishment for a cat. While Sergey was a resident of the cottage, both the peasant lad and the cat absorbed an education. For Mruczek, Sergey was also another source for snacks. 

Alexei was reading a book one evening with Mruczek reading over his shoulder. The Baal Shem Tov entered the cottage, without so much as knocking on the door first. 

The Baal Shem Tov spoke to Alexei, without any formalities or customary niceties. “We need to be on our way, post haste. There is no time for delay. Hitch the horses to the wagon. I have an important meeting early tomorrow and we have many, many versts to travel before sunrise.” 

Alexei set right to the task at hand. Mruczek climbed into the wagon and found herself a spot on the floorboards. The Baal Shem Tov was already sitting in the wagon, wrapped in a wool tallis, waiting as patiently as possible, considering the urgency of the matter, for Alexei to get the wagon rolling down the road. The Baal Shem Tov reached down to give Mruczek a scratch and a knip. Mruczek, for her part, tugged on the fringes of the Baal Shem Tov’s tallis, before settling in for a nap.

 A Cat and the Baal Shem Tov 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/the-baal-shem-tov-and-cat.html

How Mruczek - The One Who Purrs - Came to Live with Alexei  

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/how-mruczek-one-who-purrs-came-to-live.html

Alexei's Inheritance, Mruczek the Cat and the Mysterious Traveler 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/alexeis-inheritance-mruczek-cat-and.html

Alexei and Mruczek Learn to Read

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/alexei-and-mruczek-learn-to-read.html

Alexei's Doubts & The Great First Leap of Faith 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/alexeis-doubts-great-first-leap-of-faith.html?m=1

Alexei's Inheritance, Mruczek the Cat and the Mysterious Traveler

 Alexei was a young man when my Great, Great (multiplied by a large number) Grandmother Mruczek came to live with him. She was fairly young herself. She was no longer a kitten although not quite a full grown cat. 

In human terms, you could say that she was a teenager. That is, she was around six months old or so at the time. This was shortly before her first pregnancy. So, in practical terms, Mruczek and Alexei were in similar stages of growth and maturity when they came to live together. 

Now, my human translator Yankl suggested that some readers might wonder why Alexei gave my Great, Great (multiplied by a large number) Grandmother such a masculine name. He could have, after all, called her something feminine such as Mruczka or possibly Kizia i Mruczek as these are common Polish names for female cats. 

Well, truth be told, for one, she was a fairly tough looking and muscular feline. Without a close examination, a casual human observer might readily have mistaken her for a Tom rather than a Queen. 

Of course, Alexei was well aware of mammalian gendering. He would have had no problem differentiating between a stallion and a mare, a bull and a cow, or a boar and a sow. Cats, on the other hand, require far closer examination and Alexei and my Great, Great (multiplied by a large number) Grandmother had not developed such a relationship that allowed for such close interaction and examination when he began calling her Mruczek. 

My Great, Great (multiplied by a large number) Grandmother did, however, have an impressive voice, meowing at the cottage threshold. Her voice captured Alexei’s attention and eventually his affection. 

The truth is that what people call us is of hardly any importance. As cats are fond of saying, we don't care what you call us…as long as it's not late for supper. 

The question that I find more intriguing, which, for some reason hadn't crossed Yankl's mind, no offense meant my translator but maybe he isn't all that inquisitive, is this; why did a Wallachian peasant whose Mother Tongue was Romanian give a cat a Polish name? That's always been a mystery for me. 

Of course, as I mentioned before, the mentshn, the Russians, Lithuanians, Poles, Ukrainians, Tatars, Romanians, and even the Yidden, lived in close proximity with one another. A significant amount of exchange and interaction took place even without these various people having a common shprakh. Alexei, as you will soon see, circulated among these mentshn and was, even as a youth, somewhat of a polyglot.

Anyway, my story continues…

Alexei, though young, was both intelligent and clever for a peasant lad. He had been largely on his own from before he had even turned ten. 

Alexei would run off for days or even weeks at a time. There was always plenty of work to do out in the world and he was good at finding himself a position. There were always stables that needed mucking out. For a while he was an assistant for a chronically drunk ferryman. He was a blacksmith's helper for a time. He was the chief pot scrubber and potato peeler at a lumbering encampment. 

Whenever Alexei returned home, no one seemed particularly concerned that he had been gone. He always came back with some newly acquired skills and a few coins in his pocket. After a while, he would head out on a new adventure. 

Alexei certainly wasn't much older than twelve when he joined up with a troupe of entertainers traversing the Russian Empire. He traveled far and wide, caring for the horses as well as training dancing bears. 

Alexei was on the road for several years and by the time he returned to the region of his birth he was nearly an adult. On this occasion, however, he soon learned that his circumstances had been greatly altered. 

A few months earlier Alexei’s mother had become quite ill and had passed away. Alexei's father, Georgi, arranged for her burial and mourned her to the best of his ability, before returning to his routine of working alone in the forest as he had become accustomed to. Georgi was cutting trees alone in the woods when his axe slipped and he injured himself. Georgi dragged his broken body back to the trail where he bled out.

So Alexei learned of the passing of his parents from the villagers upon his return to the region of his birth. The peasants urged him to speak with the village priest who had overseen Georgi's last rites and Alexei's inheritance while he had been gone. 

Alexei went to the church where he found Father Kiril. It was early in the day so the priest was still relatively sober and his vision was still fairly clear. After blinking a few times, he recognized Alexei and managed to remember who he was. Alexei approached Father Kiril, removed his cap, and kissed the priest’s hand. 

Father Kiril invited young Alexei into his office. Father Kiril sat in a plush chair behind a large desk. Alexei sat on a stool on the opposite side of the desk. Father Kiril filled two glasses with vodka, one glass for himself and one for Alexei. Father Kiril placed a large accounting book on the desk and began to speak of the material matters concerning Georgi's estate. 

The priest patiently explained to the boy what resources his father had, how the priest had managed these resources while Alexei was absent, and what was presently due to be transferred to Alexei as his inheritance. It all was a blur for Alexei, and not only because of the vodka. Much of the information was difficult for Alexei to follow because he was illiterate and only had a rudimentary understanding of the simplest of math. 

Alexei came into possession of his family's cottage, a pair of horses, a carriage, several goats, a small flock of chickens, a few ducks, and a small bag of coins. The priest explained to Alexei that it was customary for someone in his position to tithe to the Holy Church. As Alexei was uncertain about the math involved, Father Kiril gracefully offered to help him figure a proper percentage of the coins that would remain with the priest. Then, Father Kiril offered the young man his blessings and walked him to the door. 

So it was that Alexei was committed to the maintenance of a home and the care of the fowl and livestock that came with it. This was a big change for a youth who had traveled the Russian Empire with a circus and dancing bears. 

Alexei wasn't sure what to make of all this domesticity but it certainly, for the moment seemed to be his fate. He fiddled about in and around the family cottage, contemplating his situation. When my Great, Great (multiplied by a large number) Grandmother Mruczek came meowing at the door of Alexei’s cottage, she certainly could see that the young man needed her assistance. She also smelled chicken roasting, which is always an incentive for a cat to develop a relationship with those of the humankind. 

The following day, while Alexei was busying himself outside of the cottage, a foreign looking, oddly dressed man with a long and bushy beard, carrying a peddler’s sack - in short, a Yid - arrived tsufus, on foot. Alexei offered the traveler a cup of water, which the Yid accepted. The traveler held the cup in his hands and muttered a bracha in what surely sounded cryptic to Alexei, a prayer to the Most High.

This Yid, of course, was the Baal Shem Tov. After he quenched his thirst, he placed a hand on Alexei’s shoulder and proceeded to utter a blessing for the youth. Alexei shuddered. He remembered seeing this odd Yid before. Alexei remembered seeing this traveler talking to his boss while he was shoveling manure. That night, his boss gave him a new blanket and a loaf of bread. Alexei remembered seeing the traveler on the ferry and that he pressed a gold coin into Alexei’s palm as he exited the boat. He remembered seeing him at one of the circus sets in a small, out-of-the-way village where the bear that Alexei was handling performed with particular grace. When the Baal Shem Tov removed his hand from Alexei’s shoulder, the lad fainted. 

When Alexei came to, he was sitting on a chair inside the cottage. The Baal Shem Tov was attending to the lad. A damp cloth was being applied to his forehead. Mruczek was sitting on the floor beside Alexei, watching over him with concern. 

When the Baal Shem Tov felt assured that Alexei would be alright, he spoke to the young man. “I blessed your father Georgi for the service that he provided when he was just a boy. He was prosperous because of the blessing. I have kept an eye on you, over the years, to assure that you were safe and prosperous yourself. Now that you are becoming a man, it is time that you and I enter into a contract.”

The Baal Shem Tov gave Alexei a small pouch of coins of various denominations. He told Alexei that the money should be considered a deposit. 

“This,” continued the BeShT, “is what I expect of you. You will keep your horses healthy and your wagon will be well maintained. You will need to be ready at a moment's notice to travel, any time I come here or send for you, day or night. Wherever I tell you to go and whatever I ask you to do, you will do without questioning. For this, you will be compensated well, in this world and also in the World to Come.”

“In the meantime, young man, until I need you, you must dedicate your time to learning how to read and write. I will be sending you a tutor. He will be here in a couple of days. If you were literate you wouldn't have let that drunk priest steal half of your inheritance!”

“I will be going now,” concluded the Baal Shem Tov, and he headed to the door. Then, he paused and began reaching about among the many pockets of his bulky clothes until he retrieved what he was looking for. He bent over and gave Mruczek a schtickle of herring. Again, the BeShT spoke to Alexei. “And, take good care of this ketsl and she will take care of you.”

With that, the Baal Shem Tov was on his way. Alexei was under contract to be at the BeShT's beck and call. Mruczek, my Great Great (multiplied by a large number) Grandmother was assured a secure forever home. 

And here I must break off the telling of this tale, for now. I am due for a very long cat nap. Tomorrow is another day. 

A Cat and the Baal Shem Tov 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/the-baal-shem-tov-and-cat.html

How Mruczek - The One Who Purrs - Came to Live with Alexei  

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/how-mruczek-one-who-purrs-came-to-live.html

Alexei's Inheritance, Mruczek the Cat and the Mysterious Traveler 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/alexeis-inheritance-mruczek-cat-and.html

Alexei and Mruczek Learn to Read

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/alexei-and-mruczek-learn-to-read.html

Alexei's Doubts & The Great First Leap of Faith 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/alexeis-doubts-great-first-leap-of-faith.html?m=1

How Mruczek - The One Who Purrs - Came to Live with Alexei

 

I know that these stories I am about to tell you may sound like fantasies but these are indeed true histories. I know this because I listened attentively to my mother even when I was very young. My ears were always perked while I nursed. My mother would speak to her kittens, feeding our minds while she was filling our bellies. 

You see, I am a direct matrilineal descendent of Mruczek. Mruczek was the cat that lived with Alexei, the Baal Shem Tov’s driver. Because of this, Mruczek traveled extensively with the BeShT. Of course, that was many cat generations ago but cats have ancestral memories longer than tails. 

It is true that cats often know little of their paternal lineage because there is always some uncertainty about our fathers. In fact, sometimes in any litter, the kittens may have several different fathers. When a cat is ready to be a mother, the inner forces of nature and the mysteries of the night are what determines short-term liaisons, with little or no concern for discretion. Beyond genetics, our fathers generally have little, if any influence on our upbringing. We all know, however, a great deal about our maternal lineage.

I am able to relay this particular tale to humankind because my human friend Yankl is gifted with the capacity of understanding cats. This is a rare and sensitive nature among humankind. Kol Hakavod! Much respect. 

As well as being a sensitive being, Yankl is also literate and skilled at writing. As such, this is, to the best of my knowledge, the first time that a cat's perspective has ever been relayed in print. I cannot thank Yankl enough for his efforts. I have insisted that he be given proper credit right in the beginning, even though he humbly protested that he is undeserving of such praise.

Mentshn and cats have lived in close proximity for a very long time. Sometimes they even live together. There is a certain synchronicity to the relationship. Each, in some ways, serves the interests of the other. There is an unspoken and fluctuating social contract between the feline and the humankind, built on something beyond understanding for each of the species. On the whole, very few of either species can be said to really understand the other, but sometimes we come closer to mutual understanding than one might expect. 

Likewise, amongst the mentshn, the Russians, Lithuanians, Poles, Ukrainians, Tatars, Romanians, and even the Yidden often live side by side. They meet in markets and taverns. They brush up against each other, generally without fully understanding one another, similar to the way cats and mentshn interact. When a cat has an unexpected interaction with a human, one never knows if one will be greeted with a petting and a treat or with a swift kick and maybe something worse. A cat's life in this world seems to be quite similar to that of the Yidden amongst the nations. 

So, to learn how my Great, Great (multiplied by a large number) Grandmother Mruczek came to live with the Wallachian peasant Alexei, I suppose we first need to examine how a young peasant came to own a house as well as a wagon and horses. For this, we need to rely on what she overheard from mentshn which is not as reliable as information directly from a cat. Mentshn, I am sorry to say, have a tendency to embellish. 

And, it seems that Alexei’s good fortunes stem from a somewhat unintentional good deed by his father Georgi when Georgi was quite young and a shepherd boy.

In those days, it was not uncommon for young peasant boys to be given a significant amount of responsibilities over the herds. The herds would wander great distances, verst after verst, fattening themselves for the eventual slaughter that is their fate. The boys would supervise the herds, days and nights for weeks on end. No one supervised the boys. The children were unschooled and largely lacking in any moral upbringing as well, motivated more by self interest rather than social standards. 

At that time the Lamedvovniks, the secret society of Righteous Men, was very active in smuggling Holy Books throughout the Russian Empire. This enterprise would, on occasion, call for a Lamedvovnik to hide books in a secret rendezvous spot, a remote location away from centers of human habitation, to be retrieved later by another member of the association. 

So it was that Yisrael Ben Eliezer was on such a secret mission. This was before he had revealed himself to be the Baal Shem Tov. He was just one of the 36 Lamedvovniks disguised as a common wanderer among the Yidden of the Russian Empire. Yisrael Ben Eliezer placed a bundle of books carefully hidden in the predesignated location. 

Georgi, who was on his own, unsupervised, with nothing but time on his hands, happened to see Yisrael Ben Eliezer at work, a Yid, oddly dressed as far as an unworldly Wallachian peasant boy was concerned. Georgi reasonably assumed that a great treasure was being hidden, perhaps a vast stolen wealth of money, gold, and jewelry. After Yisrael left the bundle unattended, Georgi circled around to acquire it for himself. 

Young Georgi untied the bundle and stared without comprehension at the strangeness of the hidden treasure. He knew almost nothing of books, in general. The letters in these particular books he had certainly never seen, as they were written in Lashon HaKodesh and not Cyrillic. He felt almost as if he had been tricked, unearthing a treasure with no particular value. And then, Georgi felt a large hand on his shoulder. He turned in trepidation to see the bearded face of Yisrael Ben Eliezer looking down at him. Georgi considered running but he was being firmly held in the grip of this mysterious Yid. He surely, at this point, expected a beating because the life of a peasant child was harsh like that. 

But, looking into the kindly eyes of the Baal Shem Tov, Georgi perceived that a beating might not be his fate. The strange bearded man pulled Georgi into his arms in a bear hug and whispered into his ear, speaking fluently in Romanian, Georgi's Mother Tongue. 

“You have indeed found a treasure, but not one that you can immediately spend. This bundle has no monetary value and yet it is of great value for the entire world, greater than diamonds or gold.”

“Now, listen carefully, for this you must do. It is your task to guard this bundle of Holy Books. In two or three days another man, with a beard like mine and dressed like I am will arrive. You will assure that he gets the bundle and that these books are protected and secure until he does so.”

When Reb Yisrael finished saying this, he placed his hands on the boy's head and muttered words in the Loshen HaKodesh before speaking again to the boy. 

“I am going to give you a coin now. When my comrade arrives, he will also give you one. Understand that if you fulfill my instructions, you will be blessed and your descendents will also be blessed, in your honor for this service.”

Yisrael Ben Eliezer pressed a coin into the palm of the shepherd boy. The coin was nearly the equivalent of what he would earn as a shepherd for the entire season. Georgi's life had been unquestionably altered by a chance encounter with the Baal Shem Tov. 

Georgi went on to live the life of a fairly typical peasant, we can suppose. He worked hard, on and off. He drank when drink was available. He brawled on occasion in the taverns and the alleyways, as peasants might be inclined. And, of course, he periodically lusted after peasant girls. So, at a young age he married one of these and she bore him a son whom they christened Alexei. 

We do not know what became of Georgi or his bride. The lives of peasants were generally short, difficult, and without much significance. However, he did have more than his share of luck at times and managed to acquire a small house as well as a wagon and a couple of decent horses. And these came, in due time, to be the inheritance of Alexei. 

And, this is where Alexei was living when my Great, Great (multiplied by a large number) Grandmother Mruczek found the smell of food wafting from an open doorway of a modest dwelling in a backwards corner of the Russian Empire. And, here she chose to linger and meow at the threshold until Alexei invited her in. And here she decided that this was where she would stay.

Now, you need to understand that cats, on the whole, like to sleep around eighteen hours a day. Telling all of this to Yankl has taken a great deal out of me. It is time for me to enjoy a sardine or two and then settle into a cat nap. 

Perhaps tomorrow, I will tell you about how Alexei became the Baal Shem Tov’s driver and some of their adventures. 

A Cat and the Baal Shem Tov 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/the-baal-shem-tov-and-cat.html

How Mruczek - The One Who Purrs - Came to Live with Alexei  

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/how-mruczek-one-who-purrs-came-to-live.html

Alexei's Inheritance, Mruczek the Cat and the Mysterious Traveler 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/alexeis-inheritance-mruczek-cat-and.html

Alexei and Mruczek Learn to Read

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/alexei-and-mruczek-learn-to-read.html

Alexei's Doubts & The Great First Leap of Faith 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/alexeis-doubts-great-first-leap-of-faith.html?m=1

The Baal Shem Tov and the Cat

 

The world rests on the merit of 36 Righteous Men in each generation, from nearly the beginning of time and even now. The 36 are represented by the Hebrew letters Lamed (ל) and Vov (ו) and are referred to as the Lamedvovniks.

The Lamedvovniks live mostly hidden among us. They generally appear to be simple people, laborers toiling for their daily bread. When necessitated, they may be smugglers of holy books or of vast fortunes of precious stones or gold coins. Sometimes they were miracle workers. At times they would gather in secret places, clearings in deep forests or on mountain tops, forming minyans with prayer that moved mighty forces on Earth and even the Heavens. The world depends on the Lamedvovniks. 

Yisrael Ben Eliezer showed promise even as a child. He learned quickly. He brought joy to those he met along the way. As a young man, he taught small children. However, he didn't reveal the fullness of his powers until his 36th (לו - lamed vov) year. It was then he began to publicly perform miracles. This is when he became known as the Baal Shem Tov, the Master of the Good Name, or the BeShT (בעש״ט).

The Lamedvovniks were dependent on the Baal Shem Tov, even as the world depended upon them. The BeShT taught and led those that secretly taught and guided the world. 

This new role that Yisrael took on as the guiding light and touchstone of the Lamedvovniks necessitated extensive traveling at a moment's notice over verst after verst of unmeasurable distances in all sorts of weather and often through days and nights beyond counting. The Baal Shem Tov needed a loyal driver. 

The Baal Shem Tov placed himself into the hands of a Wallachian peasant, a gentile by the name of Alexei who served as his wagon driver, on whom he was at times totally dependent. And, although Alexei would never admit it, he was very much dependent on a feline companion. 

This particular cat was usually called by the Polish names Mruczek (The One Who Purrs) or Puszko (Fluffy) by Alexei, even though Alexei’s Mother Tongue was Romanian. The Baal Shem Tov always called the feline Ketsl although the cat was certainly well past being a kitten. The cat, of course, answered to any name, especially if the person was offering a schtickle of herring. 

A Cat and the Baal Shem Tov 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/the-baal-shem-tov-and-cat.html

How Mruczek - The One Who Purrs - Came to Live with Alexei  

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/how-mruczek-one-who-purrs-came-to-live.html

Alexei's Inheritance, Mruczek the Cat and the Mysterious Traveler 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/alexeis-inheritance-mruczek-cat-and.html

Alexei and Mruczek Learn to Read

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/alexei-and-mruczek-learn-to-read.html

Alexei's Doubts & The Great First Leap of Faith 

https://21stcenturybogatyr.blogspot.com/2026/03/alexeis-doubts-great-first-leap-of-faith.html?m=1

Diaspora in the Stars; The Planet Birobidzhan Story

This is the preface for

 The Luftmenschen of Planet Birobidzhan 

 

Tayere khaveyrim, dear friends,

The Luftmenschen of Planet Birobidzhan is a work of fiction. The setting for most of this book is very far away and in the distant future. Although this book is largely about Jews on other planets, one need not be a Yid (a Jew) or a luftmentsh (a spaceman) to read this story any more than one, for instance, would need to be a Hobbit or an Elf to read a book such as Lord of the Rings. 

This book is a future history. To gaze into the future, we will also need to gaze into the past.

Planet Birobidzhan was settled by exiles separated from the Home Planet for a long time. The exiles developed their own unique culture and speak primarily Yiddish. Some awareness of Yiddishkeit is certainly helpful to understand this tale. To make this story more accessible, I have included a glossary. 

This is a story of displacement, exile, and entrapment by fate. This is also the saga of the few that strive to break free from those entanglements. This story is told from various vantage points, with different voices. The tale spans hundreds of years.

Where to begin? Long before the Yidden came to the gallus in the stars, we lived on Planet Earth where we were also often displaced. But, that is not really the beginning, either. 

The very beginning is described in Bereshis, what others call Genesis. "When God began to create heaven and earth - the earth being unformed and void, with darkness over the surface of the deep and a wind from God sweeping over the water - God said 'Let there be light' and there was light." 

All humanity, we are told, derived from one mother and a single spark. We even all had a single shprakh. What that language was, we do not know. 

Humanity dispersed globally. Each region developed a unique Mamaloshen, I suppose. Farsheteyt? I can't say that I really understand, but the shprakh of each of us became babbling in each other's ears. 

Our Father Abraham originated in Ur Kasdim. Abraham developed a personal relationship with God. Because of this, our bashert became distinct from the rest of the mentshen of Planet Earth. The relationship with the Creator is our inheritance, but that inheritance is not evenly distributed amongst the Children of Abraham. 

What we know of Abraham's immediate family, and those that follow, we learn from the Tanakh, the assemblage of texts that others call the Old Testament. 

Father Abraham's wife was barren. Mother Sarah, in her old age, offered her servant as a surrogate to bear children. The servant and Abraham's first son are left to fend for themselves in the wilderness because Sarah's reasoning was displaced with jealousy. 

I am quite uncertain about how it all ends. Our prophets offer veiled suggestions, but no conclusions. We have no scriptures describing an Apocalyptic End Times as those of other peoples. 

The middle is quite garbled. Most of our tale here is likely closer to the end than the beginning. Es tut mir layd for a lack of greater clarity. 

Our story seems to backtrack and twist in on itself, full of doubt and uncertainty. That rambling is, perhaps, a continuation on the trajectory that reaches back to the very earliest days of the Jewish People. Ikh vis nisht. 

I suffer from a condition of nostalgia, a dissatisfaction with the present. I long for something better. This life of mine is an anachronism. Maybe that explains it. Ikh vis nisht.

A disjointed sense of time and place is not an exclusively Jewish condition. It may be a widespread human phenomenon. A condition of nostalgia and displacement does seem particularly pervasive amongst the Yidden. 

Questions of lineage fill our Tanakh with instances of displaced lines of inheritance, periods of exile, and separation trauma. 

Brothers fought within wombs for dominance. Birthrights were traded for bowls of soup. Children were conceived through subterfuge and seduction. Moshe was raised by Pharaoh's daughter. Hadassah married the King of Persia. 

These sorts of plot twists repeat throughout our Tanakh, reappearing amongst the Nations in barely camouflaged folk tales such as Hansel and Gretel, Snow White, and Cinderella. The Roma fortune tellers use Tarot Cards to retool the Tanakh for those lacking a tradition of literacy. 

Family roots are taken very seriously by Yidden. Perhaps our historical obsession with assurances of ethnicity derives from the obvious lack of lineage purity. We are, after all, of many hues and physical types, mixed and blended. 

We mirror this concern with our dietary laws, obsessing on separations. We refrain, for instance, from mixing milk and meat. Nonetheless, the meals that we perceive as Jewish borrow heavily from our Russian, Polish, and Ukrainian neighbors, representing a confluence of cultures. 

We tend to blend our foods. Our kugel, gefilte fish, kneidelach, chopped liver, tzimmes, and cholent all reflect our tendency to bring some order out of chaos, imitating the act of Creation. Our foods are as mixed up as our bloodlines. 

Wherever we migrated, we carried our burdens and contradictions with us. We carried Eretz Yisrael with us into exile. We carry the habits, values, and customs absorbed in exile from one Diaspora to another. 

This was our fate on Planet Earth and continues to be so as we transit across galaxies. 

I hope that readers find this introduction and explanation of sorts to be of some use.

A hartsikn dank, a heartfelt thanks, for your indulgence. 

The Luftmenschen of Planet Birobidzhan is now available wherever books are sold! 

The novel can also be bought, at a discount, through this direct purchase link:

https://shop.ingramspark.com/b/084?params=6TtjgjBTrFtcK4tvxeCbUN4hTvy9rOoAq8aeNsNXURN

Zvi Baranoff has written both fiction and non fiction for decades and has had pieces published in several independent publications. The Luftmenschen of Planet Birobidzhan is his first published novel. He lives in rural southern Oregon, where he anticipates remaining for the foreseeable future. 

The Luftmenschen of Planet Birobidzhan

 

The Luftmenschen of Planet Birobidzhan is a work of speculative fiction, a future history of social and science fiction. This is a story of displacement, exile, and entrapment by fate. This is also the saga of the few that strive to break free from those entanglements.

Kabbalists have spoken of traveling great distances in a troika or on foot or in a meditative state through divine intervention. The Baal Shem Tov, for instance, was famous for such feats. So, the rabbis found the idea of folding space/time to be quite plausible. After all, isn't that exactly what the great sages of blessed memory had done? 

Wormholes were theorized for a very long time. The first time one was discovered was in the middle of the 21st Century. The scientists were blown away. The rabbis shrugged. 

The wormhole opened the option to settle new worlds. When the tenuous connection to the Home Planet was severed, those who had emigrated to Planet Birobidzhan were then on their own. 

The Luftmenschen of Planet Birobidzhan is now available for purchase worldwide, wherever books are sold! 

The retail price of this hardcover book is $24.95 but if you use this direct purchase link you can buy the book for ONLY $18. 

https://shop.ingramspark.com/b/084?params=6TtjgjBTrFtcK4tvxeCbUN4hTvy9rOoAq8aeNsNXURN