In the years after the fall of the holy city, a mother named Hannah and her seven sons were thrown into prison. One by one, in order of their ages, the tyrant brought the boys before him and commanded them to bow to his image and worship his gods.
The eldest, brought first, answered: "God forbid that I should bow to thy image. Our commandments say, I am the Lord thy God (Exodus 20:2); to no other will I bow." He was led out to execution.
The second son was asked the same. "My brother did not bow," he said, "and no more will I." "Why not?" the tyrant pressed. The boy answered, "Because the second commandment of the Decalogue says, Thou shalt have no other gods before me (Exodus 20:3)." He, too, was killed.
The third came before the throne: "My religion teaches me, He that sacrificeth unto any god, save unto the Lord only, he shall be utterly destroyed (Exodus 22:20). I welcome my brothers' fate before I bow to thee."
The fourth spoke the same verse with the same defiance. The fifth offered up his life with Israel's watchword on his lips: Shema Yisrael, Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai Echad — Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is One (Deuteronomy 6:4).
"Why so stubborn?" the tyrant demanded of the sixth. "Because," the boy answered, "The Lord thy God is in the midst of thee, a mighty and terrible God (Deuteronomy 7:21)." He, too, died for the words.
Then the seventh and youngest boy was brought. The tyrant softened. He spoke kindly. He offered the child his life.
The story in this source breaks off here, mid-sentence. But every Jewish reader for the last two thousand years has known what the youngest son said. Seven sons, one mother, one Echad — and the refusal that turned a cell into a Temple.