Succoth (The Festival of Tabernacles) was approaching and we had plenty of fun building a small booth of reeds under the open skies. We decorated the booth with plenty of coconut and cane branches and put garlands and small colorful electric bulbs inside it. Grandma set a table and many chairs in its inner side and even a canopy for anyone who wanted to spend the night there.

It almost triggered a fight between my uncles and aunts before nightfall. They all debated the matter and even argued as to who would sleep in the booth.

"But why," I asked Grandma. "What is so special about sleeping under the open skies?"

"Sit down and I'll tell you what is so special about it," she responded with a mischievous smile.

I took a chair and sat in front of her in anticipation of her tale.

"Do you know," she began, "that prior to Succoth, we spend nights praying and asking for the absolution of our sins of the past year. Well, you must also be aware that on the last days of Succoth, our Mighty God continues his evaluation of each one of us and signs the book of life, in which each one of us shall be rewarded or punished according to one's behavior. If you have caused pain to anyone or sinned, and haven't tried to repair the damage that resulted, you shall be punished, it is said. And if instead you have spent the entire year doing good deeds around you and fulfilling God's commandments, you shall be recompensed."

"This isn't the right time to tell the child those things," Grandpa admonished her from the corner of the booth. "She is too young to understand and you shouldn't scare her with that now!"

Indeed, he must have noticed the change of color in my face when Grandma started talking about sins. Although I was only six years old, I had committed a few, such as lying to her, hiding a few matters from her which I knew would result in punishment for me if she ever found out.

I had also done a few bad things such as playing doctor and nurse with our neighbors' children. Once, I lined them up and told them to let me put eye drops in their eyes. The bottle I used originally contained eye drops, but when it was emptied, grandma threw it in the waste bin. I spotted it, picked it up and filled it with cold water and liquid soap. After mixing it by shaking it, I started instilling a few drops of this mixture into the eyes of the poor children. They were all crying in pain and their eyes were sore and red. Remarkably, they never told their parents, perhaps because I was the granddaughter of the local rabbi whom they feared and respected, and the event was forgotten. I was aware however that I had done a bad thing and I promised myself never to repeat it.

"Please keep on," I said to Grandma, who showed some hesitation.

"Are you sure that you want to hear the rest?" she asked.

"Yes, I must know if I need to correct my behavior." I replied with a frown on my face.

"Well, the night prior to Simhat Tora (Rejoicing the Bible), we commonly try to remain awake and spend the night under the open skies, because on this specific night, it is said that God opens the Gates to Heaven."

"What do you mean Grandma? There are gates in heaven? What do they look like?" I asked her, completely puzzled.

"Of course there are Gates to Heaven," replied Grandma in a serious tone of voice. "When they open, you only have a few seconds to make a wish that will be granted for the rest of your life."

"Did you see the Gates of Heaven, Grandma?" I asked again, overwhelmed and curious. "What did you wish?"

"I was never lucky to be awake when it happened," replied Grandma, a little dismayed. "However, people who have had the opportunity to make their wish were rewarded on the spot. Some asked for gold and diamonds, others for health and wealth and other stuff they hoped to get."

"What would you wish to have if you had the chance to see the Gates of Heaven opened, Grandma?" I inquired.

"Grandpa's recovery," she stammered, almost imperceptibly.

"You know what Grandma? I shall avoid sleeping tonight and the coming nights until the last day of Succoth and wait for the Gates of Heaven to open and make the same wish as you just did." I replied. "Please help me bring my mattress and lay it down on the floor under the skies. I promise you to stay awake the entire night and won't miss this event."

Grandma went to my tiny room, tailed by me. The two of us removed my small mattress from my iron bed, carried it and spread it out on the bare ground. I also brought my pillow and a light blanket, and sat there.

In the booth, my uncles and aunts kept on playing cards and drinking hot mint tea with cookies. Grandpa and Grandma went to their room and slept. I kept my eyes open, staring at the skies, and almost screamed when a failing star bestrode the velvety dome, but no, no Gates ever opened. I clearly saw my uncles and aunts turning in and then nothing. When I woke up the sun was high in the sky.

Grandma came to me holding a hot glass of scented tea with a piece of her sponge cake which I gulped down.

"I am sorry Grandma if I disappointed you," I said regretfully. "I can't remember when I slumbered. It just happened."

"It's all right my sweet child. We all do and that is why no one has ever seen the Gates of Heaven open."

An excerpt from Marrakech Mellah Tales, a collection of short stories seen through a young Moroccan Jewish girl’s eyes.

Therese Dvir, an author, is an Israeli-Canadian citizen, born in Morocco and living in Israel since 1967. She retired after a successful professional career as an Administrator and Director of hi-tech companies. She has written short stories since childhood.