Identity Theft Read Online Free PDF Page B

Friday nights. Spies were encouraged to poke around the homes of
Conversos
on
Erev Shabbat
, Friday evenings, hoping to catch someone honoring the Fourth Commandment. Lighting Shabbat candles, saying the Jewish blessings, and singing the songs I grew up singing on Erev Shabbat were forbidden under the threat of death.
    “Tragically, we had grown careless; we’d relaxed our caution. Three days later they came for my father. He was arrested and brought before an inquisition. The Church then tortured him until he confessed to the wretched crime of lighting Sabbath candles.
    “My father was given a choice. He could repent of his deceit and take a part in a
verguenza
—a ‘shaming,’ in which he would be stripped to the waist in freezing temperatures (it was winter). He would then be paraded through the streets, led by monks and mocked by the crowds, suffering countless other indignities all along the way. The other option was to be burned at the stake.
    “We knew additional punishments would be imposed once my father accepted the
verguenza
. They would expect him to turn in other
Conversos
who were secretly living as Jews, but he had been humiliated enough. Hadn’t he already denied his faith, in public, for our protection? And now these Christians wanted to add insult to injury. No, it was too much. He would not!
    “When my father declared he would not recant, he was taken back into custody and sentenced by the religious magistrates, apparent followers of this Christ, to be burned alive. Yes, my father would be tied to a stake and endure the inconceivable agony of burning to death as the fire slowly, painfully, consumed him.
    “All this in the name of their religion!
    “When the day came, my family watched. We did not want him to die alone. This was it. The
religious police
were going to kill my father—take him from me because we lit candles. They brought him out with his hands bound behind his back. He was tied to a stake. He said not a word. Even when the flames engulfed him, burning his living body, he would not scream. He was telling us, without words, ‘
Don’t give in…don’t compromise…be strong
…’ and then, my father died.
    “After my father was murdered and all our property confiscated, we did what we should have done in the first place. We made the journey to Gibraltar and sailed on to Morocco, where we settled into a thriving Jewish community in the city of Tangier. I miss my father deeply and I will never forget his courage. I live to honor his memory and to honor Judaism, for which he laid down his life.
    “Oh, and by the way, please don’t call me Christophe. My name is Jacob.”
    “Ariel, I can’t handle much more of this. I studied the Inquisitions in college, but that was just words in a book. This is different. Those poor people! How could Christians act this way?”
    “Patience, David, patience.”
    At this point, my mind had ceased trying to determine whether I was imagining all this or really talking to an angel and traveling through time. My emotions were fully gripped by what I had just seen. All that we Jews had ever wanted was the freedom to make a life for ourselves, but it seems there was always someone seeking to prevent that and to persecute us. I thought,
My God, Hitler didn’t have to look too far back in history to find a pretext for killing Jews. He needed only to look at the Church
. And then it hit me.
    “No Ariel! I can’t! I won’t watch it! Take me back! It’s too much…”

Chapter Five

H ORROR !
    The lights dimmed, but this time I wouldn’t watch. I sought to get up in order to escape and found that I couldn’t. I was literally glued to my seat. I yanked and jerked, but nothing worked. I was stuck there. Finally I resigned myself. On the screen were the words:
    1945 CE , Bergen-Belsen Concentration Camp
----
    And a young boy began to tell his story of horror.
    “My name is Tuvia Lebowitz. I am sixteen years old. Today, I am free. But while my body is