The post The Haunted Lyra: A Jewish Tale from Greece appeared first on Story Tour.
There was a carpenter in the city of Salonika who was called upon by the chevra kadisha to make a coffin for a man who had died. When the coffin was finished, there was one board left over. The carpenter decided that the wood was so fine and beautiful that he would use it to carve a lyra. That night, however, he had a dream in which the dead man for whom he had made the coffin came to him and warned him not to fashion the wood into a musical instrument. The carpenter recalled this dream when he awoke, but paid no attention to it, as he did all dreams.
That day he started to carve the lyra. He worked very slowly, perfecting it over a period of weeks. When he was finished, he saw that the lyra was very well made indeed, and he was proud of himself. He polished the wood and strung the lyra and looked forward to the time that he might play it once he had made a bow. That night the dead man came back to him in a dream and again warned him not to play the lyra. But upon waking, the carpenter again ignored the dream.
That day he carved the bow and polished its wood until it shone like that the lyra. It was late at night when the bow was finished, so he decided not to try it out until the next day. That night the dead man came back to him once again, and said he was warning him for the last time not to play the lyra. But when the carpenter awoke, the first thing he did was to pick up the lyra and run the bow across its strings.
A haunting melody rose up, as if on its own, and no sooner had he played but a single song than the room grew dark, “and there was a thick darkness” (Exodus 10:22). The darkness was twice and twice again thicker than the darkness of any other night. The carpenter ran to the window, opened it in confusion, and peered outside, “”And lo, and dread, a darkness, a great one, fell upon him” (Genesis 15:12).
Suddenly a great force from behind, like invisible hands, shoved him out the window. Before he knew it, the carpenter found himself tumbling down, and an instant later he plunged into something soft and treacherous, like mud. With horror he realized it was quicksand, relentlessly sucking him under the earth. It had already reached his arms when he understood how imminent his danger was, and he thrashed about wildly, but it was too late. The quicksand dragged him under as he drew his last breath.
The son of the carpenter found his father’s body lying on the floor of his workshop, a lyra in his hands. That night the same dead man who had warned his father came to the son in a dream and revealed all that had happened and told him “He that mocks the poor insults his Maker” (Proverbs 17:5).
The very next day the son burned the lyra, and as it went up in flames, he heard the voice of the carpenter crying out as if from a great distance. Then he knew that somewhere his soul was no longer tortured.
May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)
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Tell it to your children, and let your children tell it to their children, and their children to the next generation. (Joel 1:3)
