A visit to Tzfat (Safed) on a mountain in northern Israel. Tzfat of the blue doors and the Kabbalah center with the amazing views from the roof. [photos]

We spend some time learning about the rise of Jewish mysticism, about the history of the city, about its division into Jewish and Arab neighborhoods in 1948 (some of the billet holes are still visible in walls), about its more recent transformation into an artist colony. We wander the streets a little, enjoying what we find.

Outside some of the synagogues is graffiti asking people to guard the silence.

One of our party stops at a shop selling quite nice microcalligraphy. She looks at various pieces, I walk around. Microcalligraphy is a Jewish art of creating pictures by writing a text, usually a Jewish book, in tiny letters which together form the image. The text and the picture of course should be related.

The youngish man behind the counter issues a general challenge to the group, surely something he's said a thousand times before: You find a missing word, I'll give it to you for free!

It's hard to read, even with a magnifying glass, and sometimes you can't tell where the next line begins or even follow a line to its end. So I look at a couple of lines of Genesis, it's hard to follow; I shrug and go look at something else. But I was really taken with the picture of Queen Esther--I like its simplicity, and the Megillah is the first Jewish text I learned to chant, when I was in 6th grade hanging around after Hebrew School while my father taught the 7th graders. I love the story and I love the organized nonsense of Purim. So I find where the Megillah starts (her hair at the back of her crown) and start singing to myself.

2nd sentence. The second word is missing.

Nah, it can't be. That's absurd. Why would an accomplished artist make a mistake like that? What're the chances? I sing it again, check both memory and logic: Yes, the word ההם "those" is missing.

So I tell him, "I found a mistake." "Really?" I tell him which word is missing. Behind me I can hear my traveling companions start to chuckle. I always like a good challenge and to win!--well, that's fun.

"Show me," he says. And then the weirdest part of all: this man, wearing all the trappings of an observant Orthodox Jew, goes and gets a Tanakh (Jewish Bible) to look it up. Meantime I look it up on my phone and yes, the word is missing! A second later he confirms it from the book.

It is true that Orthodox Jewish men tend to skip over the Bible and head straight for the Talmud, law codes, and associated commentaries. So there is no real reason why he should know this text by heart, especially if he doesn't have a musical memory like I do. Still, I take a great deal of satisfaction from the fact that this woman and Reform rabbi apparently knows the text better than he does.

Now he's got a dilemma. We all heard him say "for free." He mumbles something like "I'll have to check with the artist. He's downstairs." But he makes no move to go anywhere. He seems indecisive. Suddenly he says, "I'll give it to you for half price." Apparently he feels he has the authority to do that much. I do the math in my head and decide that $20 is a great deal.

So Queen Esther is mine, and so are bragging rights. I shall try not to be insufferable!