The Stranger
She returns, covers the tub of dough, and prepares to light the oven. While she is thus busying herself, she frequently stops, overcome with heavy thoughts, and her hands droop. After the fire is lit, she sits down on the floor close to the tub and begins to cry softly and tremulously. In the open doorway an old woman appears, almost bent in two by the heavy pack on her shoulders.)
The Old Woman
A Mezuzeh on the doorpost—a Jewish house! (She kisses the mezuzeh.)
Fraidele
Jews do live here. Come in.
The Old Woman (beaming on Fraidele)
Such a bright Jewish daughter! Why do you sit on the floor? (She struggles with her load.) Na—can’t take the pack off my shoulders at all…huh!…huh!
Fraidele
Wait, I’ll help you.
The Old Woman
What a bright little daughter it is! Here we are! Ha—breaks my shoulder! Heavy—the bundle! Good people filled her up heavy for me.
Fraidele
We’ll have to cut the rope—too heavy to lift over your head.
The Old Woman
Hah—that’s the way they tied the pack to my shoulders! Stuffed it full of all the good things —and now pack yourself around with it! That’s it—cut the rope. Don’t save it.
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