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Palestine,” Abe said.
    Haim nodded. “Then you probably couldn’t,” he agreed. “As for me, I could not survive anywhere else.”
    â€œIt’ll be a hard life—”
    â€œWhat else is new?” Haim’s voice grew soft. “What is hardest is saying good-bye to the man who raised me like a father.”
    â€œBeing your father helped me to overcome the loss of my own.”
    â€œSo you will go to America and become a rich man. You will come visit me in Eretz Yisroel and all my neighbors will be impressed with your importance.”
    â€œWell, you will need money to go to Palestine,” Abe said. “I don’t know how to advise you, little friend.” He frowned. “I don’t know the procedure—”
    â€œDon’t worry,” Haim reassured him. “There have been pioneers before me. The Zionists here and in Palestine will guide me.”
    â€œDid they say how much passage was?”
    Haim gave him the figure. “Also something to live on until I know my way around a little, but all I’ll take from you is the fare.”
    â€œDon’t be foolish.” Abe quieted him in a peremptory tone. “Maybe you do not need my guidance any longer,but for food and clothing you’d do best to rely on me and not your fellow halutzum.”
    â€œBut you will need money for your own journey.”
    â€œIn America a man can find work to make his own way. Who knows if there is any work in Palestine?”
    â€œOf course there is work.”
    â€œThe kind that pays? Right here I could plant a crop, and that’s work, but it doesn’t pay until the plants grow. What would I eat until then, without money in my pocket to buy food?”
    â€œPerhaps you are right,” Haim reluctantly admitted.
    â€œPerhaps,” Abe chuckled. From the leather pouch around his neck he extracted a sheaf of worn rubles. “Take this.” He handed over the money.
    â€œBut this much?” Haim asked, astounded. “It must be all you have.”
    â€œIn the first place it is not mine but ours,” Abe said. “We earned it together. In the second place it is much less than half of our savings.” He winked. “I am six years older than you, so I should get the lion’s share, yes?”
    Haim laughed and then grew quiet. Both men watched the fire for a while, until Abe broke the silence.
    â€œWhen do you leave, little friend?”
    â€œThere’s a train to Odessa at seven this morning,” Haim began, then blushed, embarrassed at Abe’s chortle.
    â€œYou are so anxious to leave?” Before Haim could say anything, Abe continued, “Do you know what I think? I think that probably I will not wake up until well after dawn. Before then you should go find your Zionist friends and begin your journey. What do you think?”
    â€œI think that the thirteen years since I stood in your doorway, a ragged orphan boy, seems like only one day,” Haim murmured. “You really will not come with me, Abe?” He filled his voice with hope.
    â€œI won’t.” Abe wrapped himself in his blankets against the cool night air. There will be no way for us to write, hethought. After tonight it will be good-bye forever. He looked heavenward to pray for Haim’s well-being. The stars against the velvety sky seemed more brilliant than usual.
    â€œGood-bye, little friend.”
    â€œGood-bye, father.”
    Abe had to smile. Never had the boy called him that before. He went to sleep willing the stars to be diamonds in Haim’s pocket. He went to sleep with the blankets over his head to muffle the sound of his only family’s departure.
    Haim waited for Abe’s breathing to become regular. He was either asleep or pretending to be. What difference did it make, anyway?
    He had no idea what to take with him on his journey and so decided to take nothing. Whatever he needed he would get in Palestine or do