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A Strange Inn

This story takes place in the time of the Alter Rebbe. One of the many causes that the Alter Rebbe was involved with, was raising money for the talmidei chachomim who lived in Eretz Yisroel.

The Alter Rebbe sent out shluchim to different cities, towns and villages, to collect money and to teach the yidden in those cities about yiddishkeit.

One particular chossid who we are going to be talking about, was named Reb Zalmen Zezmer.

Every year, the Alter Rebbe would call him into his room and tell him which cities he would like him to visit.

Every year, Reb Zalmen also asked for a brocho, so that his trip should be successful. Not only would he ask that his trip be successful, but he would also ask for a brocho so that the money that he would collect would not get stolen.

This year, when the Alter Rebbe called in Reb Zalmen Zezmer, and told him where he should go on shlichus, Reb Zalmen made sure to ask for a brocho. Of course, he got a brocho, but at the end of the brocho, the Alter Rebbe gave some strange instructions. The Alter Rebbe said: “Reb Zalmen, make sure that you do not sleep in a room that has a door on the east side.”

Reb Zalmen then left the Rebbe’s room, and set off on his way, doing his Rebbe’s shlichus. Reb Zalmen did not understand the Alter Rebbe’s words, but of course, he would listen to what the Alter Rebbe said.

Reb Zalmen went from town to town, from city to city, and from village to village, collecting money and teaching the yidden Torah.

Every night, he would check his hotel room wherever he slept, to make sure that his door was not on the east side. Interestingly enough, not once was the door to his room on the east side!

Well, after a few weeks had passed, possibly even a few months, Reb Zalmen Zezmer had finished his list of cities, and was ready to return home.

Reb Zalmen started heading for home. Soon it was starting to get dark, so he decided to stop off at a hotel. But there was a problem: There were no hotels to be seen. All there was, was a big field. To make the matter worse, there was a big forest ahead. What would Reb Zalmen do?

Reb Zalmen decided to continue on into the forest. Maybe there would be an inn not far from where he was?

But, as Reb Zalmen went deeper and deeper in the forest, it just got darker and darker. Reb Zalmen did not even know if he was on the road or not! Of course, he was very tired, but he just had to continue going.

Soon Reb Zalmen saw something… It was a light! It was not the daylight, and it was not the moonlight either. It was a little candle! Reb Zalmen had found people!

Reb Zalmen started heading towards the light, and sure enough, he came to a small inn. Reb Zalmen got out of his wagon, and went into the inn. Inside, he was greeted by someone who looked like a yid. Reb Zalmen asked: “Is it possible for me to spend the night here?” “Yes! Of course,” came the reply.

“Are you Jewish?” Reb Zalmen asked out of curiosity. “Yes, I am,” replied the man. Reb Zalmen was very excited. Not only did he find a place to sleep, but the owner of the inn was a Jew!

Now, Reb Zalmen needed to da’aven ma’ariv, so he asked the man: “Which direction is mizrach?” The man showed him where was mizrach, and he got ready to da’aven.

As Reb Zalmen was looking for a place to da’aven, he noticed that the door to the inn was on the east side! He could not sleep in this inn, because the Alter Rebbe had told him: “Reb Zalmen, make sure that you do not sleep in a room that has a door on the east side.”

Immediately, Reb Zalmen took his bags, including his bag of money and told the owner of the inn: “I am sorry, but I have to leave. Thank you for letting me stay for as long as I did.” Quickly, Reb Zalmen ran to the door to leave the inn. But, before he could open the door, the man came and locked the door.

“Not so fast!” the owner of the inn shouted with a mean looking face. “I do hachnosas orchim. I bring in guest. But, I don’t let them out! HA HA! You’re staying here.”

The man went into the next room and locked the door behind him. Reb Zalmen heard what sounded like a group of robbers. They were talking with each other. They were saying: “What do you have over there?” “A big bag of money this guy has. I heard it when he came in.” “That’s great! Let’s get it.” “It’s a good catch!” “Hey why don’t we have a party before we get him?”

A party is what they had. Reb Zalmen heard dishes and silverware. There was much noise. Occasionally, Reb Zalmen saw some mean faces looking through a small window. Reb Zalmen was saying tehillim, begging Hashem to save him.

Soon the gang came out into the room where Reb Zalmen was. They all approached him and one went towards the bag of money. Reb Zalmen said: “You will not rob my money that I have collected, and you will not hurt me either. The money that I have is not mine. I collected it for tzedaka, to give to talmidei chachomim in Eretz Yisroel. That is part of the shlichus of my Rebbe.

“My Rebbe also told me not to sleep in a place where the door is on the east side. As soon as I realized that the door here is on the east side, I got up to leave, and you will not be able to stop me.”

The gangsters started to laugh. “First of all, we do not even understand most of the words that you are saying. And second of all, you think that you will tell us what to do? Nothing will stop us! We are the best. HA HA! We are going to take everything from you, and then finish you off!”

One gangster picked up the bag of money and said: “Oh, this is a big bag of money! It’s very heavy. We’ll be rich soon!” Reb Zalmen then repeated: “You will not take that money! It is for tzedaka, to give to talmidei chachomim in Eretz Yisroel.”

The gangsters said to Reb Zalmen: “You really think that you will be able to stop us? Just watch!” They put the money on the table to count it. One gangster started counting… 1…2…4…6…8..10…12.

Then, another gangster came over and said: “Let me count it. I can count much faster.” Still another one of the gangsters wanted to count, and another. Soon all the gangsters got into a big fight. One wanted to count, and the other wanted to count, too.

One gangster had an idea: “Hey guys, why don’t we eat first, then we’ll count the money and divide it! Otherwise we’ll be starving while we’re counting the money! We’ll have the best dessert … counting money! That’s better than anything else.”

They all liked the idea, and they quickly prepared a meal. They sat down, and put the bag of money in middle of the table, so that they would be able to see it while they were eating. Soon, some of the gangsters got thirsty, and decided to bring out mashke for everyone.

It did not take long until all the gangsters were drunk. They were too excited to continue eating, so they decided to count the money right away. Once again, they got into a fight, each one wanting to count the money.

One gangster just grabbed the bag away and started counting. “One…Two…Three…Where was I? Oh, yeah…Four…Five…Six…Seven…Eight…Nine…Ten…Eleven…Twelve…Nineteen…Twenty…Twenty-one…Twenty-three.”

“No!” one of the gangsters piped up. “Twenty-five! You are counting wrong!” “Well, okay. Twenty-ten…Twenty-sixty…”

“Let me count,” shouted a gangster. “You are counting totally wrong!” So, this gangster started counting all over, but made the same mistakes like the other one. This repeated itself a few times.

The gangsters kept on drinking, and arguing at the same time.

Soon, all the gangster got so tired, that they decided to go to sleep, and count the money the next day. Well, one by one, they all fell asleep. One was on the bench, another slept on the floor, and yet another made the table his bed.

After a while, everyone was sleeping, except for two people. One was Reb Zalmen, and the other was the man who had greeted Reb Zalmen when he first came.

Reb Zalmen noticed something strange about him. While everyone was drinking, he just kept on bringing more and more mashke, to make sure that his friends were very drunk. He did not even drink a bit of mashke the whole time! Reb Zalmen was able to tell that there was something different about him.

The “owner” of the “inn” soon approached Reb Zalmen. He said: “I am a yid, and I think I know your Rebbe. I don’t want to do anything against him. Please, take your things and go.”

Reb Zalmen felt bad for this man—he was a yid after all. Reb Zalmen said: “What about all the other guys? What are they going to do to you when they find out that you let me go?”

“Do not worry,” the man said. “I will take care of myself. But I want you go back, and continue on your way. Meanwhile, I want you to give something to your Rebbe from me.”

The man then pulled out a 50 ruble bill and handed it to Reb Zalmen. “Here, give this to your Rebbe.” Reb Zalmen then took the money and left.

Reb Zalmen continued travelling, and pretty soon he found his way out of the forest. After a few hours of travelling, Reb Zalmen arrived back home. It was the early morning when Reb Zalmen arrived.

Reb Zalmen went to the shul, and found the Alter Rebbe waiting for him. The Alter Rebbe said: “Reb Zalmen, I have been waiting for you the whole night. Where have you been?”

Reb Zalmen explained the whole story, and then gave the Alter Rebbe all the money that he had collected. He also gave the Alter Rebbe the 50 ruble note that he had received from the owner of the inn.

The Alter Rebbe then took the 50 ruble note, and stuffed it into a crack in the wall. Reb Zalmen was surprised, but did not ask any questions about what the Alter Rebbe did.

That 50 ruble note stayed in the wall for many years. Nobody touched it. That is, until one day, an old man came to see the Alter Rebbe. The Alter Rebbe was not able to see him then, but he went over to the crack in the wall where the money was, took it out, and told his gabbai to give it to the man.

The gabbai explained to the old man that the Alter Rebbe was not able to see him and he gave him the 50 ruble note. The old man then left the Alter Rebbe’s shul. This man, was none other than the owner of the inn!

The Two Tailors

Our story takes us back to the time of the Alter Rebbe. In our story, we will be talking about two tailors. We do not know their names, so we will call them Reuven and Shimon.

Reuven and Shimon worked together in a little shop that they owned. From their work, they were able to earn money to support their families.

There came a time, when not too many people were coming to Reuven and Shimon’s shop. Maybe one or two people came during a whole week! Reuven and Shimon would not be able to make money like that.

Reuven and Shimon decided that they would travel to different cities, and try to make money. Maybe they would find a town that didn’t even have a tailor! They didn’t have much to lose, so they packed up their things, and got ready to start their journey.

At the first town that Reuven and Shimon came to, they put up signs all over, to let everyone know that they were there, ready fix clothes, or sew new ones.

Boruch Hashem, they were very successful and they had lots of business. Every once in a while, they would return home with a bundle of money for their families.

After a while, Reuven and Shimon’s business was going down. Nobody was coming to give them work. So, they decided to take their things and travel to another town.

The same thing repeated itself a few times, so Reuven and Shimon moved from town to town, and that is how they made money.

Reuven and Shimon decided that if they would have to travel around in order to make a living, they might as well go to a big town far away and stay there for a few months, maybe even a year. Then, after a few months would pass, they would return home with a bundle of money.

So, Reuven and Shimon got all their things together. They also packed up some food with them, to be sure that they had a supply of kosher food.

Reuven and Shimon then went on their way. When they arrived in what seemed to be a big city, they decided that it would be a good place to put up their business.

This city did not have any yidden living there and it did not have any kosher food either. Of course, this city did not have a shul! But still, Reuven and Shimon were making a lot of money there.

After many days and weeks of not being able to replenish their supply of kosher food, Reuven and Shimon started to run out of food. Soon all they had to eat was just fruits and vegetables. They were not able to da’aven with a minyan, and they had to spend shabbos alone.

One day, Reuven and Shimon were walking together, and they passed by a non-kosher restaurant. They smelled the food, and thought: “Who wants to even smell such non-kosher food?”

They crossed over to the other side of the street, but then their yeitzer horas told them: “Hey, why don’t you go in, and have some warm food. You don’t need to eat fruit and vegetables the whole time. Go in and have some meat, potatoes, bread—you’ll have a nice meal.”

Little by little, the yeitzer hora convinced them to go in. “It won’t hurt,” he said. “Do it just once, otherwise you’ll starve.”

So, Reuven and Shimon went into the non-kosher restaurant and they ordered themselves a big meal. At first, they did not want to eat anything, but in the end they did.

When they came back to their hotel room, they felt very bad. Shimon put his hand on his head and said: “Why am I wearing a yarmulka when I ate non-kosher food?”

The yeitzer hora had an “idea.” “So then, why don’t you take your yarmulka off?” he asked. “You might as well then take off your tzitzis, too.”

Well, unfortunately, Shimon listened to his yeitzer hora, and took off his yarmulka and tzitzis. When Reuven saw what Shimon did, he realized that he had also eaten non-kosher food, and he did the same thing that Shimon had done—he took off his yarmulka and tzitzis.

That night, Reuven and Shimon did not da’aven ma’ariv or say shema. The next morning, they did not da’aven either. Soon you were not able to tell that Reuven and Shimon were yidden, r”l.

A year had passed and by now Reuven and Shimon had made a lot of money. They started heading home to their family.

One day, in the middle of their return trip, Reuven and Shimon arrived in Pienna. It was getting dark, so they started looking for a place to stay for the night. But, they could not find any hotels.

Reuven and Shimon decided that they would knock on someone’s door and ask if they could sleep there for the night. At the first house that they came to, they stopped their wagon, and got out.

They knocked on the door, and a old man came to greet them. “How can I help you?” he asked.

“Well,” explained Reuven, “we are travelling here and we need a place to stay for the night. We are also very hungry, and we need something to eat. We are willing to pay you if you let us stay here for the night.”

“Oh, okay,” said the old man. “Come in.” Reuven and Shimon came into the man’s house and the man showed them a place to put down their things.

“You two men seem to be Jewish,” said the man. “Could that be? If so, you won’t be able to eat in my house, because I don’t have kosher food.”

“Yes, we are Jewish,” replied Reuven and Shimon. “But that doesn’t matter. We’ll be able to eat here.” Reuven and Shimon were so used to eating non-kosher food, that it didn’t even make a difference to them!

“Well, okay then,” said the old man. “You make yourselves comfortable while I’ll prepare you a meal.” He then left the room, and locked the door behind him.

Reuven and Shimon were very surprised. Why did the man lock the door behind himself? They did not know what to think. Who knows what the man would do?

The man soon returned with a mean looking face and a knife in his hands. “Give me your money!” he said. “I am sure you have lots of money in your bags, so give it to me now!”

Reuven and Shimon were very scared. They did not want to fight with the man, because he looked very strong. They begged him not to take their money. “Please, do not take our money. We worked hard a whole year, just to earn it. Our families are waiting for the money. Please, do not take it.”

The old man didn’t seem to care what they said. He just got more angrier and meaner-looking. “Give me your money now,” he said, “or else I will use this knife.”

Reuven and Shimon had no choice but to give him their money—a years worth of hard work. The man took the money and said: “Oh, okay! Well, I’m still not finished with you. Now I’ll have to kill you, because otherwise you’ll report me to the police.”

“Please, please!” begged Reuven and Shimon. “Please do not kill us. Our families have been waiting for us a whole year. Just let us go!”

“No! No!” shouted the man. “Do you think that I am going to listen to you? If I kill you now, nobody will know what happened to you, and then I will have all your money HA HA! Get ready! I am coming back in five minutes.”

The man then left the room with the bags of money in his hands. He of course locked the door behind him, just like before.

Reuven and Shimon looked around to see if there was a window so that they would be able to escape, but there was none. Now they started thinking about the trouble that they were in.

They thought to themselves, how did this happen? Then they remembered how they would always da’aven, learn, give tzedaka, eat kosher, and so on. But now, they weren’t behaving like yidden at all!

Reuven and Shimon started doing teshuva. They were begging Hashem to help them. Now they realized what they had done to themselves.

They heard a key in the lock. They covered their eyes and said: “Shema Yisroel Hashem Elokeinu Hashem Echod!” They thought that this would be the end of them. They still kept their eyes covered because they didn’t want to see the old man with his big knife.

They waited, and waited and waited but…nothing happened. They didn’t hear anything at all. But then, they did hear something, and they could not believe their ears.

Reuven and Shimon heard someone say: “Please, take some food, relax, and take it easy.” It just didn’t make sense. They opened up their eyes, and saw that the old man was standing with a big smile a tray with delicious food in his hands.

Not only that, but the food was kosher! The man had somehow acquired kosher food, and was now serving it to them.

They asked the man: “What is going on? Why did you do what you did?”

“Well,” said the man, “it’s a long story, but let me explain. Actually, first I want to tell you something. You Jews have a great Hashem and great tzaddikim! Why am I saying this? Let me explain.

“One night, I heard a knock on my door. I went to the door to see who it was, and I saw a very holy looking Rabbi. I let him in and asked him what he needed, and what he was doing here in middle of the night.

“He said that he was running away from General Napoleon, and now he felt very sick and needed a place to stay for the night.

“I gave the Rabbi a room, and he stayed in my house for a while. Just a few days ago, he passed away in this very house.

“Before he passed away, he thanked me for letting him stay here, and told me: ‘In a few days, two people will come to your house, and you will be able to help them very much.’

“’These people,’ he said, ‘will look like Jews, even though they will not behave like Jews. I would like to ask, that you should help them return to the proper way. If you would just scare them, that would help them very much.’

“I was very surprised with what the Rabbi said, and at first I thought that I would never do such a thing. But now, when you came, you reminded me of the Rabbi’s words, and that is why I scared you as much as I could,” concluded the old man.

The next morning, Reuven and Shimon continued on their journey as frum yidden. They arrived home safely, and then lived happily ever after.

The Figs

This story took place in Tiveria, in the time of the Romans.

One day, the Roman Emperor took a stroll in Tiveria. As the Emperor was going down the street, he saw an old man with a white beard working in the fields.

The Emperor was very surprised to see such an old man working in the fields. He commanded his servant to summon the man to his carriage.

The man stopped working and approached the Emperor. The Emperor asked the man: “You look like a very old man. How old are you?”

“Well, Your Majesty, today is my one-hundredth birthday,” answered the man.

“What? Today is your one-hundredth birthday?” asked the Emperor. “Why then, are you working so hard planting trees? Do you think that you will live long enough to be able to eat from these trees?”

“Hopefully, Your Majesty, I will live to eat from these trees,” the old man answered. “Even if I will not live until then, my children and grandchildren will be able to eat from these trees.”

The Emperor then said: “If you live long enough to eat from your trees, please come to my palace. I would like to taste some of your fruit.”

“With G-d’s help, if I live long enough, I will come to your palace and share with you some of these figs that I am planting now,” said the old man.

Then, the old man went back to work and the king went on his way.

Many years passed…

Then, one day, a very old man came to the Emperor’s palace. The man was carrying a basket full of figs. The guards were very surprised to see such an old man at the palace.

“Who are you and what are you doing here?” asked one of the guards.

“I am an old man from Tiveria and I have an invitation from the Emperor,” answered the man.

The guards were not sure if what the old man said was true. One of the guards went to the Emperor and asked him if he had invited this man.

The Emperor did not remember ever inviting him, but said: “Bring him in. I would like to see this old man.”

The guard went back to the palace gates, and escorted the man to the Emperor.

The Emperor asked the man: “Why are you here? I did not invite you! Don’t you know that no one is allowed to come here without an invitation?”

“Well, Your Majesty,” replied the old man, “I know that no one is allowed to come here without an invitation, but I have an invitation.

“Let me explain: Many years ago—when it was my one-hundredth birthday—I was working in the fields. You happened to be taking a stroll through the streets and you summoned me to your carriage.

“You told me that if I would live long enough to eat from the trees that I planted, I should come to the palace and bring you some of their fruit.

“Well,” the man concluded, “I am still alive and here are some of the figs from the trees that I had planted. Please take some.”

The Emperor then tasted some of the figs. He loved them! He was also very surprised that the old man was still alive! He ordered his servants to bring “The Golden Chair” for the old man.

The servants were surprised, because the golden chair was reserved for very special guests! “This old man must be very special,” they thought.

The servants did as the king had ordered. They brought the golden chair and the man sat down.

The Emperor then ordered: “Take the figs out of the basket and then fill the basket with gold!” The servants did what the Emperor ordered.

One of the officers didn’t like how the Emperor was giving honor to this man. He asked the Emperor: “Why are you giving so much honor to this simple old man?”

The Emperor answered: “If the king of the world gives this man so much honor, by giving him long life, I should give this man much honor too.”

The man, then left with a basket full of gold.

When the man came home, one of his neighbors found out how he got rich, and was very jealous of him. He decided: “Let me also take a basket of figs and give it to the Emperor. Then, in return I will receive a lot of gold!”

His wife told him: “Don’t take a basket! That old man was foolish enough to take a basket. You can take a big bag! A bag holds much more than a basket. That way we could get more money!”

So, the man’s neighbor took a big bag and filled it up with figs. It was so heavy. He thought to himself: “You know, my wife is right. I will get a lot of money if I bring this to the Emperor!”

The man then went to the palace and said to the guards: “I heard that the Emperor is taking figs and giving gold. Here are some figs. Now, could you please fill this bag with gold?”

One guard said: “I am going to go ask the Emperor if he does such a thing, because I never heard of this!”

So, the guard went to the Emperor and asked him: “There is someone outside that said that he heard that you take figs and give gold. Should I let him in?”

“No!” answered the Emperor angrily. “I don’t need his figs! Who would dare come here with such a request?

“Take the bag,” the Emperor commanded, “and put it down next to him. Then, whenever someone enters to or exits the palace, they should pick up a fig from the bag and throw it at him!

“Also, tell him that he cannot leave until the end of the day! That will be a good punishment for such a man,” concluded the Emperor.

The guard then went outside and told the man not to move until nighttime. He then put down the bag right next to the man.

“Hey! Give me my bag of gold!” shouted the man.

“What bag of gold?” asked the guard. The man answered: “Don’t you see a bag of gold? Right over there is my bag of gold!”

“That is not a bag of gold! It’s full of figs, and according to the Emperor, anybody who comes here has to take one and throw it at you,” said the guard.

A while later, a man came out of the palace and the guard told him to take a fig and throw it at the man. The man picked up a fig, threw it at the man, and left.

Every person who arrived at or departed from the palace, threw a fig at the man.

Night came and the man went home. He knocked on the door. “Who’s at the door?” asked one of his children.

“It’s me!” answered the man. As his wife was going to open the door, she asked her husband: “What took you so long?”

“Oh, I was busy getting my reward!” he answered.

“That means you must have gotten a lot of gold. Right?” she complimented.

The wife opened the door and she saw a mountain of figs! Her husband was covered with figs!

“What happened?” asked the wife.

“Well,” said the husband. “This is what they gave me instead of gold!”

What do we learn from this story?

We should never be jealous of anyone.

Ludkia Needs Oil

This story takes place in a country called Ludkia, during the time of the Beis Hamikdosh.

One day, Ludkia ran out of olive oil. Usually, that would never happen, because new oil was always being pressed.

Well, why weren’t more olives being pressed? Because, the olive trees in Ludkia were not growing. For whatever reason, they were just not growing.

Today, that would not be such a problem, but in those days, everybody needed oil. They needed oil for light, oil for cooking, and so on. Who could live without oil?

The people of Ludkia called an emergency meeting, and everyone attended. They decided that they would send someone to go to the neighboring countries to buy oil for everyone. Then, they would not have a problem with oil.

One man volunteered to travel to buy the oil. Everybody gave him money, so that he would be able to pay for the oil.

So, the next morning, the man set out, to buy oil with the money that he had been given.

In the first country that the man arrived at, he went to the marketplace. He found the oil merchant, and told him how much oil he needed. The oil merchant said: “I am afraid I cannot help you, because we do not have any oil in our country.”

The man had no choice but to continue on to the next country. There, he again found the oil merchant, and explained his situation. “Well,” the oil merchant said, “you need a lot of oil. I don’t have so much oil. Maybe someone else will be able to sell you that much oil.”

So, the man went on to the next country, and the next and the next, only to find out that he could not acquire any oil.

One day, the man arrived at a certain country. There, he was not able to buy any oil either, but someone told him: “Why don’t you go to the northern part of Eretz Yisroel? They have a lot of oil there!”

The man thought to himself: “Yes! Why not? After all, I still can’t find anyone who is able to sell me the amount of oil that I need. Maybe in Eretz Yisroel they will have enough oil for everybody in Ludkia!”

So, the man set out on his way to the northern part of Eretz Yisroel, where Shevet Asher lived. When he arrived in Eretz Yisroel, he was so surprised. He did not see any oil merchants, or anything like that. All he saw were farms and houses!

He thought to himself: “What a waste of time! I came to Eretz Yisroel, and I don’t even see a marketplace here!”

Since the man had already come so far, he decided that it would not hurt to ask one of the farmers for olive oil. He went over to a farmer and said: “Excuse me, sir. I come from Ludkia, and in our country we ran out of olive oil. We need a lot of oil. Would you be willing to sell us some oil?”

“Sure,” came the reply. “How much do you need?” asked the farmer.

The man didn’t really think that he would get enough oil but said: “Hmm, I need about eighty barrels of olive oil. Do you think that you have that much?”

“Why not?” asked the farmer. “Come with me.”

The farmer then led the man to a big storage house. There, the man saw hundreds of barrels of oil! The farmer gave him the eighty barrels he needed.

The farmer asked: “Is that it? You don’t want any more oil? After all, you’re a whole country.”

“I do not think I have enough money to pay you for so much oil. I will just take eighty barrels,” answered the man.

“Do not worry about paying me,” said the farmer. “I have plenty of olive oil here.”

So the man took a few more barrels. He asked the farmer: “From where did you get so much oil?”

“Well, I got them from the olives, of course,” replied the farmer.

“But all the other countries hardly have enough olives. In our case, we don’t have any olives at all!” said the man.

“By us it is different. We are from Shevet Asher, and Shevet Asher has a special brocha for olive oil. Our olive trees are no ordinary olive trees,” explained the farmer.

Now, the man from Ludkia had a big problem. How was he going to get all the oil back to Ludkia?

Well, the farmer helped the man from Ludkia rent many wagons, and they loaded the barrels onto the wagons. Then, they made a big procession back to Ludkia with all the oil.

When the procession reached Ludkia, everybody was so happy, because they had oil. Some people asked: “From where did you get so much oil?” The man told them the whole story, and then everyone in Ludkia knew about Shevet Asher’s brocha.

Strong, Black Coffee

Many years ago, in a small village, lived a very old man.

One morning, the man woke up and felt very sick. The doctor was called to the man’s house, to take a look at the man.

The doctor said that the man was in a very dangerous condition, but he did not know what was wrong. He said: “Why don’t you call the doctor from the big city. He will probably be able to figure out what is wrong with this man.”

A few people went very quickly to the big city to call the doctor. They came to his office and they were let in. They said to the doctor: “Doctor, we are from the next town. In our town, lives an old man who is very sick right now. Our doctor does not know what is wrong with the man. Please come with us and examine the old man.”

So, the doctor took his things and went with the men to the next town. They came to the old man’s house, and the doctor had a look at the old man. The doctor said: “This man’s condition is very grave. There is nothing I can do to help.”

The people there did not know what to do. All they could do, is go to their Rebbe and ask him for a brocha. That is what they did. They went to their Rebbe, who was a very great tzaddik, and they explained the situation to him.

The tzaddik said: “Give this man strong black coffee, and Hashem will help that he will have a refua sheleima.”

They rushed home and right away started to prepare the coffee. The two doctors who were still there, were very surprised to see what was going on. They said: “What are you doing? This man is sick, so you go to ask for a brocha, and now you are making coffee. What did the tzaddik say?”

“Well,” said one of the men, “the tzaddik told us to give the man strong black coffee.”

“What??!!” exclaimed the doctors. “That is the worst thing for such a man!”

But since the tzaddik said that they should give the man strong black coffee, that is what they did. The man drank the coffee, and sure enough, within a few minutes, he was completely cured!

The doctors were especially amazed! Here, the old man was given something that was the worst thing for him, and he was cured.

Everyone was happy that the man was cured, and life in the little village returned to normal.

Then,…

One day, a few years later, another man got very sick. The doctor was called, but he said that there was nothing he could do to heal this man.

Everyone knew that it was the same sickness that the old man had a few years ago, so they decided to give the man strong black coffee, just like they had given the other man.

The doctor agreed, because he had also remembered what had happened with the old man. He thought that they had nothing to lose, but they really had a lot to lose.

They prepared the coffee and gave it to the man. The man drank some of the coffee, but he only got worse. The more coffee he drank, the sicker he became.

A few people were sent to the tzaddik. They told the tzaddik that they had given the man strong black coffee, but it did not help.

The tzaddik said: “What? Why did you give him coffee? That is the worst thing for him to have.”

“So what can we do to save the man? Very soon he will die,” they said.

“Okay,” said the tzaddik. ”Go home, and give this man strong black coffee. With Hashem’s help, he will recover.”

So, they did as the tzaddik said. They went home, and started to prepare the coffee. The doctor did not understand.

“Why are you making more coffee? Didn’t you see how much sicker the man got when you gave him coffee?” asked the doctor.

The person preparing the coffee was not so sure himself if he should give the man coffee. After all, the tzaddik himself said that coffee was the worst thing for such a person. But again, the tzaddik had also said to give the man coffee.

So, the man was given the coffee, and … he was cured from his sickness.

What do we learn from this story?

It was only through Hashem’s brocha that these two people were healed.

One Hour

Many years ago, there lived a very powerful king. This king had a beautiful palace, and many servants, officers, and guards.

The king had a special system in the way that he assigned jobs to his servants. When a servant would first start working at the palace, he would be assigned the lowest of all jobs.

Occasionally, the king would test his servants, to see whether or not they deserved to “go up in rank” and receive a better job in the palace.

Of course, the tests were not so easy. The servants who were being tested did not even know that they were being tested at all.

Well, one of the king’s servants was named Yisroel. Yisroel was a good, hardworking servant.

One day, the king decided that it was time for Yisroel to be tested to see if he could be promoted to a better job in the palace.

He called in Yisroel and said: “Yisroel, I want to reward you for all the hard work that you have been doing for me.

“I will open up my treasure house for you for just one hour. You will be able to go in and take anything you want.

“But remember Yisroel,” said the king, “that is one hour—from ten o’clock, to eleven. Not one minute more! Be there tomorrow morning at nine fifty.”

Of course, Yisroel was very exited! He could not wait for the next day. He would be there on time.

So, the next morning, at nine fifty, Yisroel was at the treasure house with ten large barrels, ready to collect anything that he wanted.

At ten o’clock, the doors to the treasure house were opened, and Yisroel went in. The king said: “Remember, you only have one hour. When the clock strikes eleven, you must leave.”

So, Yisroel opened a big chest, and stuck his hand in. Before he could even pick up one jewel, he heard the most beautiful music.

Yisroel loved music, and when he heard such beautiful music being played, all he could do was just stop and listen.

That is what the king expected to happen. The king had hired the best musician from the kingdom. He had asked him to be in the treasure house the entire hour that Yisroel was there, and play music.

Meanwhile, the king was watching Yisroel from a small crack in the wall. He wanted to see if Yisroel would collect some treasures, or just listen to the music.

Soon the first song was over. Yisroel looked at the clock and realized how much time he had wasted. He quickly put his hand back into the chest to take some jewels, but suddenly … he heard more music, and this time it was even nicer than before.

Soon the whole hour went by, and all Yisroel did was listen to music. The king came and told him to come out. His hour was up.

Yisroel said: “But I didn’t even take a thing! I was listening to the music!”

“Right,” said the king. “You were supposed to be taking as many treasures as you could, but you did not! You were just listening to the music. Too bad!”

What do we learn from this story?

Yisroel is like the yidden. The yidden are called Yisroel. We are of course, servants of the king, Hashem. Hashem put us in the world (the treasure house), and we are supposed to be learning Torah and doing mitzvos.

Hashem sent a musician down into this world too—the yetzer hora. The yetzer hora is trying to stop us from learning Torah and doing mitzvos.

The treasure house is now open. Let’s use our time wisely.

The Big Room

A long time ago, there lived a very old king. This king was getting older and older, and he knew that, soon, one day, he would pass away.

The king wanted to make sure, that after he passed away, his successor would be good for the country. He wanted one of his three sons to succeed him as king, but he did not know which one.

The king wanted his smartest son to be the new king. The problem was, the king loved all his sons very much, and he did not really know which one was the smartest.

Meanwhile, the king was getting older and older, and he still did not have someone to take his place after he would pass away.

One day, the king thought of a way to figure out which of his sons was the smartest. He called his three sons into his room and told them: “Under the palace is a big empty room that is never used. I am going to make a contest that is going to put that room to use.

“The contest will be as follows: Each one of you will have thirty days to fill the room with something. Your goal will be to fill the room to its fullest potential. You can fill the room with anything you want. At the end of the thirty days, there should not even be an inch of the room that is left empty.

“Whoever fills the room the most,” said the king, “will become king when I pass away.”

The three sons left the king's room. The oldest son was given the first chance to fill the big room, and he got to work.

The oldest brother thought to himself: “In the kingdom, there are many stones. Why don’t I fill the room with stones? After all, there are big stones, and small stones. If there are gaps between the big stones, I’ll be able to put small stones!”

So, the oldest brother called his servants, and told them to fill the room with as many stones as possible. They went out into the mountains and started gathering the biggest stones that they could find.

Then, the servants came back to the palace and put all the stones in the big room. There were spaces between the stones, so they filled those up with smaller stones.

It took a while until the room was finally full. Soon the thirtieth day came, and it was time for the king to check the room.

At the end of the day, the trumpets were blown, and the king came to inspect the big room.

The king was very happy to see how full the room was. Of course, there were still tiny spaces between the rocks, but it was still very full.

The king said: “Son, I am very proud of you. The room is very full, and even though there are still spaces between the rocks, you did a wonderful job.”

The room was emptied, and now it was the second son’s turn. He also had thirty days.

The second son decided to fill the room with feathers. “You can squish in as many feathers as you want, until the room becomes full,” he thought.

So, the second son called his servants, and they started to collect feathers. They collected all kinds of feathers from many different birds.

Soon, they had so many feathers, that the room seemed to be almost filled to capacity. As the thirtieth day approached, it was getting more difficult to find an empty corner in the room.

The thirtieth day came, and the room was full. The king came to check out the room. When he opened the door, feathers started flying all over.

The king said: “I see that you did something very smart, and worked very hard. But, there are still some small spaces that can be filled.”

Now that the king had seen the room, it was once again emptied, and the third son started thinking about what he would fill the room with.

Everybody was curious to know, with what would the third son fill the room? Well, the first day passed, and it seemed as if he had not yet decided. The second day, too, he did not say anything.

The next few days passed as if there was no contest going on. Everybody was wondering, why wasn’t the third son filling the room with anything?

The two older brothers were a little worried. They thought the king might become upset if the younger brother was not part of the contest. They also wanted their younger brother to get a chance to be the new king after their father.

The king called his youngest son, to ask him why he was not filling the room with anything. “Maybe you need some extra time?” asked the king.

“No,” the youngest son said. “I am ready to complete the filling of the room on the thirtieth day. Everything is okay.”

The thirtieth day came, and still, the room was empty. Everybody was wondering, how did the youngest son expect to fill the room? He only had a few hours left!

Towards the end of the day, the youngest son came out of his room with a small box in his hands. Was he going to fill the room with whatever was in that box? The room probably would not be too full then!

He then went into the big room and closed the door behind himself.

At the end of the day, the trumpets were blown and the king came to check the room. When he opened the door, he smiled.

There was his son, holding a lit candle in his hand. He had filled the room with light.

The king said: “My son, you are the wisest of all. You will be the next king of this country.”

What do we learn from this story?

The room is our day. We need to fill up our day the best that we can. We are like the three sons. We can be smart and act like the first son, or we can be even smarter and act like the second or third son.

So, the lesson of the story is to use our time wisely.

The Pots of Honey

This story took place during the time of Shaul Hamelech.

In Yerushalayim, there lived an old lady who was a widow. Her husband had passed away a while ago, and she was living by herself.

This lady happened to be very wealthy. She lived in a beautiful house, and had everything that she needed.

One day, for whatever reason, the lady had to go on a trip to a far away place. She was afraid that if she would leave her house for a long time, someone might ch”v break in and steal her money.

The lady could not take all her money with her either, so she did not know what to do.

Then, the lady got an idea. She took a few clay pots, and put some of her money on the bottom of each pot. After she put her money in the pots, she covered the money, with honey.

Now, there was no way of knowing that under the honey was money. Anyone would think that the pots were full of honey.

The lady then took the clay pots and brought them to her neighbor's house. She told her neighbor: “I’ll be going away for awhile. Do you mind watching my pots of honey for me? After all, I’m going to be away for a few weeks, and I don’t want my honey to get ruined or anything like that.”

“Sure,” the neighbor replied. “I would be more than happy to watch your honey.”

So, the neighbor took the clay pots, and put them in his basement. Then, the old lady went on her trip.

One day, while the old lady was away, her neighbor was getting ready for a big party. He was baking and cooking all kinds of things. Then, at the last minute, he ran out of honey.

He did not have enough time to buy more honey before his guests would arrive. What was he going to do?

Suddenly, he remembered the honey that the old lady had left with him. He would borrow some of the honey, and replace it before the old lady returned.

So, the man went into his basement and brought up the pots of honey. He started emptying the pots of honey, and when he reached the bottom, there was no more honey, but there was money!

The man thought to himself: “Where did all this money come from? It must be that my neighbor gave me these pots, not because she wants me to watch the honey, but because she wants me to watch the money!”

The yetzer hora started creeping into the man’s head. The yetzer hora told him: “Hey, why not take the money? Your neighbor won’t think you took it anyway, because it was so well hidden! Just take it. Come on!”

Unfortunately, the man listened to his yetzer hora, and took all the money for himself.

The next day, the man bought honey to refill the pots, and to pretend as if nothing had changed.

Soon, the old lady returned home from her trip. The first place that she stopped at, was her neighbor’s house.

“Hello,” she said. “I am back, and I came to pick up my honey.”

The man was a little nervous. He said: “Oh yes! Let me get the pots of honey for you. They were in the basement the whole time.”

The man then went into his basement, and brought the pots of honey to the old lady’s house. When the man left, the lady started emptying the pots.

When she reached the bottom, she expected to see her money, but, there was nothing there! The same thing happened with the other pots. There was no money on the bottom. All there was, was honey!

She thought to herself: “My neighbor must have stolen the money! What am I going to do now?”

The old lady was in trouble, since only she and neighbor knew where she had hidden her money. No one would believe here if she said that her neighbor had stolen her money!

She went to her neighbor to complain. “Excuse me,” she said, “you just gave me back my clay pots, but there is something missing from the pots. Maybe you found something in those pots?”

“Me?” asked the man. “I did not find anything in the pots. What would I find in the pots except for honey?”

The lady left, very disappointed. What was she going to do? Now she was in real trouble.

She decided that the only option she had left, was to go to the king, Shaul Hamelech. Maybe then she could get back her money.

So, she went to the king, and told him the whole story. The king said: “I cannot draw any conclusions without listening to both sides of the story.” He ordered his servants to summon the lady’s neighbor.

When the neighbor came, Shaul Hamelech asked him: “Were you watching this lady’s pots for her while she was away?”

“Yes, I was,” replied the man.

“What was in those pots?” asked the king. “Oh, the pots were full of honey,” replied the man.

“Was there anything else in the pots?” the king wanted to know.

The man was getting very nervous. “No,” he said. “There was honey up to the top.”

“No,” said the old lady. “Under the honey was money, and you stole that money.”

“What money?” asked the man. “The pots that you gave me had honey. There was no money.”

King Shaul said to the lady: “Do you have any witnesses who saw you put the money in the pots?”

“No,” answered the lady. “I did it in secret so that nobody should see.”

“Well,” said Shaul Hamelech, “then there is nothing that I can do for you.”

So, the lady had to leave the palace without any hope of getting back her money. She was so upset, that on her way home, she started to cry.

As she was walking home, a boy named Dovid noticed her crying. The boy said: “Why are you crying like that? Is anything wrong? Is there any way that I can help you?”

The lady did not think that this boy would be able to help her, but she told him her story anyway. Dovid said: “I think I have an idea that might be of some help to you. Why don’t you go home, and I’ll let you know if my plan is successful.”

So, the lady went home, and Dovid went to the king. Dovid told the king: “I met the lady who just came to you. She told me her story, and I think that I have a way to help her.”

“How?” asked King Shaul. “She had no witnesses.”

“Well,” said Dovid, “usually, when a robber steals something, he is very nervous, and he acts very quickly. If there really was money on the bottom of the pots, and the neighbor stole it there must be one or two coins that he missed and left behind.”

Shaul Hamelech said: “That’s true. I never thought of that. I will send one of my servants with you, to escort the old lady and her neighbor to the palace. Make sure to also bring the clay pots!”

So, Dovid went with one of the servants to call the old lady and her neighbor. They all came back to the palace, and the lady also brought the clay pots.

Shaul Hamelech told everyone about Dovid’s idea. He said: “We are now going to smash the clay pots. If we will see any money, we will then know that there was money in the pots and that it was stolen.”

The pots were smashed as the king had ordered. There were little bits of the pots all over. Suddenly, the lady’s neighbor gave out a big scream. On the floor, there were two coins that had fallen out of the pots.

When the king heard the scream coming from the man, he knew that he must have stolen the money from the bottom of the clay pots.

Later on, the man’s house was searched. Sure enough, they found the old lady’s money, which was returned.

The Dovid of this story soon grew up to be the great Dovid Hamelech!

The Twelve Pools

While the Beis Hamikdosh was still standing, all the yidden would come together in Yerushalayim three times a year, for the Yomim Tovim. From this came the name “shalosh regalim.”

Now just imagine: all the yidden coming together! You would need a lot of food, housing, and water, etc.

One year, there was a very big problem. There was not enough water. It was very hot and most of the wells had dried up.

This was a very big problem, because there are so many things that you need water for. Besides drinking, you use water for washing your hands, negel vasser, cooking, cleaning, and so on. There was also simchas beis hashoeivah, where water was poured on the mizbayach instead of wine.

Many people became worried. There was not one cloud in the sky. People started davening to Hashem. They needed water.

There was a tzaddik whose name was Nakdimon ben Gurion. He decided that not only would he daven for rain, but he would do his best to acquire water.

Nakdimon decided that he would take a walk at the outskirts of Yerushalayim, and look for water. Maybe he would find a well, a pool, or maybe a river that still had water!

So, Nakdimon went outside and started walking down the street. As he was looking around, Nakdimon suddenly saw … water! Twelve pools full of water. The pools were next to a big, fancy mansion.

Nakdimon said to himself: “These pools belong to one of the Roman Generals. Maybe I could buy water from him. Then, everybody would have enough water!”

Although Nakdimon did not have enough money to buy so much water, he decided that he could at least try. “This is the right thing to do and Hashem will help me,” he thought to himself.

So, Nakdimon approached the mansion and asked one of the guards if he could see the owner of the house. The guards let Nakdimon in to speak to the General.

Nakdimon came in and found the General sitting by his desk.

Nakdimon said: “General, I see that in your gardens you have twelve pools and they are full of water.” “Of course, of course,” exclaimed the General. “I know all about my pools. Now what do you want?”

“I am sure that you are aware,” said Nakdimon, “that there are many yidden coming to Yerushalayim for the Yomim Tovim. You also know that is very hot outside, and there is a shortage of water. Would we be able to use your water?”

“Sure, but I want something for it,” replied the General. “Okay,” said Nakdimon. “I will give you a kikar of gold for each pool.”

“HA! HA! Do you have so much gold that you are able to pay that much?” asked the General.

“To tell you the truth, I do not.” answered Nakdimon. “So, let’s make a deal. If your pools are not refilled in thirty days, then I will have to pay you the money. That means that if it rains before the thirty days are over—and your pools are refilled—I do not have to pay you the money. A deal?”

“Yes! Okay—a deal! How are you going make sure that my pools are refilled, anyway?!” laughed the General.

Nakdimon went back to Yerushalayim and told everybody that he had found water.

Sukkos came, and then there was simchas beis hashoeivah, and after that Simchas Torah. The Yomim Tovim were so lebidik, and so many yidden were there. Now, people were leaving and the thirty day deadline to restore the water was almost over.

But, still, there was not one cloud in the sky. How would Nakdimon get twelve kikars of gold? He decided that the only thing he could do was daven to Hashem and hope for the best.

Every morning Nakdimon looked out of his window. Not a cloud in the sky. “When will it rain?” thought Nakdimon. “If it does not rain, we will have to come up with twelve kikars of gold, and that is a great sum of money!”

Finally, it was the thirtieth day, the last day for the rain to refill the pools.

The General awoke and looked out of the window. “HA! HA! No rain! I will be so rich. The only one richer than me will be the emperor! This is wonderful. You know what? I will make a party tonight! I will invite all my friends to show off all my gold.”

The General ordered his servants to invite all his friends to the biggest party ever. “Oh, and go remind the Jew that today he must pay up,” he added with a laugh.

The servants set off to do what the General had ordered. One of the servants went up to Nakdimon’s door and gave a loud knock. “Open up! This is very important!”

Nakdimon opened the door and was surprised to see the General’s servant there. “Why are you here?” he asked. “It is only the morning. The thirtieth day is not over yet.”

Without answering, the servants left Nakdimon’s house. They went back to the General to give him Nakdimon’s message. The General shouted: “Oh! I can’t wait any longer! Yeah, but he is right. The thirtieth day is not over yet.”

Later on in the day, the General realized that he was very hot. He said: “Let me go take a bath, so that I will not be hot at my party tonight!” So, the General went off to the bath house.

At the same time that the General left his house, Nakdimon left his house too. But Nakdimon wasn’t going to the bath house. Nakdimon was going to daven to Hashem in the Beis Hamikdosh.

While the General was in the bath house, he was oblivious to what was going on outside. There were big winds. Clouds rolled in, and it had started to rain. All the yidden were dancing in the rain!

The General finally finished his bath and got dressed for the party. As the General was walking home, he realized that something was amiss. “Oh, no!” he cried. “It’s raining! That means—

“Wait a minute. That doesn’t mean anything, because it’s the end of the day! So, I get my water, and I also get twelve kikars of gold! That means that I have two reasons to celebrate!” The General was so excited.

As the General was walking, he thought he saw someone that looked familiar. It was Nakdimon. He came closer and Nakdimon greeted the General: “Hi General! How are you? Do you see that it is raining? Your water has been returned to you!”

The General laughed: “Yeah! Sure, my pools have been refilled, but it is too late; it’s already nighttime! Bring the gold tonight. We’re having a party!”

“Wait a minute, General. When does the sun shine? At night, or during the day?” asked Nakdimon.

“Well, during the day, of course,” answered the General with a smile. “Now, why ask such a silly question?”

“Wait,” said Nakdimon. Suddenly, the clouds moved apart, and the sun shone. This was a miracle! “General, if it is nighttime,” continued Nakdimon, “then why is the sun shining? It is still daytime!”

What do we learn from this story?

Hashem can always help.

Reb Yosef and The Milk

There once lived a man whose name was Yosef. One day, Reb Yosef was walking down the street, feeling very sad.

“I have no money,” Reb Yosef thought to himself. “I need money to feed my family, and to buy clothes for them. I have to get a good job.”

Reb Yosef decided to go to the marketplace. There, he hoped, he would have an opportunity to make money.

So, Reb Yosef went to the marketplace. As Reb Yosef was walking around in the marketplace, it did not seem as if there was anyone there who might be able to help him.

Then, Reb Yosef heard someone shouting: “Who wants to buy milk? A dollar a quart! Milk for sale! So good for you, and your children too!”

“Well,” Reb Yosef thought. “Selling milk—that’s a good job. Everybody needs milk. But cows are expensive, and I don’t have enough money to buy one!”

Reb Yosef went over to the milkman and asked: “Excuse me, Mr. Milkman. Where do you get your milk from?”

“Oh, well I rent cows from the poretz,” replied the milkman. “Every day, I go the poretz’s castle, milk my cows, and sell the milk.

Then, I pay the poretz ten cents for each quart of milk that I sell.

“Sometimes the poretz is in a bad mood and wants more money, but otherwise, I pay ten cents for every quart.”

That sounded like a good job to Reb Yosef. Of course, the price of milk fluctuates. But just as the price of milk can fall, many times the price rises, too.

Reb Yosef decided to go to the castle of the poretz, and see if he would also be able to rent cows and sell their milk.

The poretz happened to be in a very bad mood that day. When Reb Yosef arrived at the castle, the guards did not want to let him at first.

When Reb Yosef told the guards that he wanted to rent some cows, they let him in. “The poretz likes money. If he finds out that we did not let this man in, he might be very upset,” they thought.

So, Reb Yosef went inside the castle and approached the poretz’s room. He knocked on the door and was let in.

He said to the poretz: “My name is Yosef. I heard that you rent cows.”

“Yes, yes! Now, how can I help you, Yosef?” asked the poretz, angrily.

“Oh, I would like to know if I can rent some cows from you,” replied Reb Yosef. “The other milkmen told me that you rent cows, and charge ten cents for each quart of milk.”

“Ten cents for a quart? You must be kidding! Those guys were lucky. I charge fifty cents per quart!” the poretz replied.

Reb Yosef really had no choice. Either he could sign the contract, or could just remain a poor man.

Reb Yosef decided to sign the contract with the poretz. After all, even if he got to keep only fifty cents for himself, that was still money!

In the contract, it said that every day, a servant would come to see how much milk Reb Yosef sold. For every quart, Reb Yosef would have to pay fifty cents, regardless of the price of milk at the time.

After Reb Yosef signed the contract, he went with one of the servants into the barn, to select his cows.

The next day, Reb Yosef woke up early, da’avened and ate, and went to the poretz’s barn to feed and milk his cows.

Reb Yosef then took his milk and brought it to the marketplace to sell. “Who wants to buy milk?” he shouted. “Who wants to buy milk?”

By the end of the day, Reb Yosef sold enough milk that he would be able to feed his family. He paid the poretz’s servant, and went home.

This went on for a few days. Everything was going well, B”H.

Then, one day, when Reb Yosef went to the marketplace to sell his milk, he found out that the price of milk fell! The price dropped to eighty cents a quart! That meant that he made only thirty cents off each quart of milk that he sold.

But, Reb Yosef just went ahead and sold the milk. At least he was making some money for his family.

The next day was not any better for Reb Yosef. The price of milk went down to seventy cents per quart! Now Reb Yosef was left with only twenty cents per quart for himself and his family.

The next day too, the price of milk dropped. The price of milk was sixty cents per quart! Reb Yosef hoped that the next day, the price would not drop again—but it did!

Now Reb Yosef did not make any money off the milk that he sold! He was in big trouble. When the poretz’s servant came for the payment, Reb Yosef had to give him all his money.

That day, Reb Yosef went home empty handed! His children were hungry, but there was nothing that he was able to do.

The next day, Reb Yosef did not make any money either! Now he was in bigger trouble than before.

Before, he was a poor man, but now, he is a poor man that is selling milk for the poretz without any pay!

Reb Yosef started da’avening and saying tehillim. He needed money for his family! Then, Reb Yosef thought of an idea.

Reb Yosef decided that he would go to the tzaddik, Reb Chaim Meyer.

Reb Yosef traveled to Reb Chaim Meyer, and was able to speak with him. He told Reb Chaim Meyer what was going on, and how he was not making any money.

Reb Chaim Meyer told him: “Reb Yosef, you have traveled a long journey to come here. Why don’t you stay here for Shabbos?” He did not say anything about Reb Yosef’s problem, and he did not give any advice. He just invited Reb Yosef to stay for Shabbos!

Although Reb Yosef did not understand why Reb Chaim Meyer wanted him to stay for Shabbos, he accepted the invitation.

On Motzo’ei Shabbos, Reb Chaim Meyer called Reb Yosef over to his study. Reb Chaim Meyer said: “Reb Yosef, on Motzo’ei Shabbos, I like to smoke my pipe.” He then took some tobacco, and put it in his pipe.

Reb Chaim Meyer said: “What I need you to do, is help me light my pipe. Next to the fireplace, are some papers that you can ignite and bring to me, so that I can light my pipe.”

So, Reb Yosef went to the fireplace, and put one of the pieces of paper in the fire. As he was walking back to Reb Chaim Meyer, the fire suddenly went out.

“How about getting a bigger paper this time?” asked Reb Chaim Meyer. Reb Yosef went back to the fireplace, ignited another paper, and brought it to Reb Chaim Meyer.

But, just as Reb Chaim Meyer was about to light his pipe, the fire went out. Reb Chaim Meyer said: “Do you see that pile of papers in the corner? Try using one of those papers.”

So, Reb Yosef got another paper, lit it, and brought it to Reb Chaim Meyer. This time Reb Chaim Meyer was able to light his pipe.

Reb Yosef was still wondering what would be when he would return home. He needed to provide for his family, and it did not seem as if Reb Chaim Meyer had a way to help him at all!

After a few minutes of silence, Reb Chaim Meyer said with a smile: “Reb Yosef, thank you for staying for Shabbos, and thank you for lighting my pipe. Don’t worry about your problem. Just go home, and Hashem will help.”

The next morning, Reb Yosef da’avened, ate, and then set out on his trip home.

When he returned to his home town, he noticed many people congregating together, as if something big had occurred. When the yidden in the town saw Reb Yosef, they ran over to him.

They said: “Reb Yosef, do you know what happened last night, motzo’ei Shabbos? There was a big fire and the poretz’s barn burned down! Some people say that lightning hit it, and started a fire.

“By the time anyone was able to put out the fire, the whole barn had burned down to the ground. Reb Yosef, don’t you have some cows there?”

“Yes,” replied Reb Yosef. “I have a few cows that I keep there.”

“Well,” someone said, “they got all burned up! How will you make a living now?”

Reb Yosef really did not know! How would he make a living, now that he didn’t have any cows?

When Reb Yosef approached his home, he saw something very strange in his yard. In his yard, were his ten cows! “How can this be?” he thought to himself. “I thought that all the cows had been burnt!”

Now Reb Yosef felt a little happier. Now that he had his cows, he would be able to sell his milk the next day.

Reb Yosef went inside, and told his family about everything that had transpired over Shabbos.

When he told his family the story of how he lit Reb Chaim Meyer’s pipe, his wife said: “Yosef, that is very interesting! Did you hear what happened with the poretz’s barn?”

“Yes! I heard about it,” Reb Yosef replied.

”Well,” continued his wife, “first came one lightning, then another, and then, by the third lightning, the poretz’s barn caught fire. It seems like that happened the same time that you were lighting your Rebbe’s pipe!”

“I have a question,” Reb Yosef said. “How are our ten cows in our yard, if the poretz’s barn burned down?”

“Oh, well, someone came to our house, and told me that he was on the hill when the barn caught fire. Right away, he ran in, and tried to save as many cows as he was able to. But, he was only able to save our cows, before the whole barn was consumed by fire! “So,” Reb Yosef’s wife concluded, “he brought the cows here, so that we could take care of them for now.”

The next morning, when Reb Yosef went to sell his milk, nobody else was selling milk but him! Now, whoever needed to buy milk, had to come to Reb Yosef. He was able to charge more money, because there was only so much milk, and everybody needed it.

In the end, everything worked out well for Reb Yosef. He had enough money for himself and his family for many years to come!

The Special Shidduch

There was once a great talmid chochom, whose name was Reb Yaakov. Reb Yaakov had a very nice daughter who went to the best schools in town and had very good middos, etc.

It was soon time for Reb Yaakov’s daughter to find a shidduch and get married. Reb Yaakov wanted a very good chosson for his daughter.

Reb Yaakov wanted a smart talmid chochom to be his daughter’s chosson. How was he going to find such a bochur?

Well, Reb Yaakov had a plan. He was going to visit different yeshivos and ask all the bochurim a very difficult question. Whoever knew the answer, would become his daughter’s chosson.

So, Reb Yaakov and his question set out on their way to different yeshivos. The first yeshiva that Reb Yaakov arrived at, he gathered all the bochurim.

He then asked his question. This question was very difficult to answer. Nobody knew the answer. Some bochurim decided to look up the answer in different seforim—but none of the bochurim were able to find the answer.

So, Reb Yaakov had to leave this yeshiva and go on to another one.

At the next yeshiva, Reb Yaakov again gathered all the bochurim and asked them the question. But again, no one knew the answer.

Reb Yaakov’s question was a difficult question. It is no wonder no one was able to answer it. Still, Reb Yaakov knew that the right chosson for his daughter would know the answer.

Reb Yaakov continued travelling around to different yeshivos. At every yeshiva, the same thing repeated itself: Reb Yaakov gathered up all the bochurim, and asked them the question. But, Reb Yaakov still did not hear an answer.

Reb Yaakov went from yeshiva to yeshiva, but he was not able to find a chosson for his daughter.

One day, Reb Yaakov arrived at a certain large yeshiva. At this yeshiva too, no one was able to answer the question, so Reb Yaakov just had to go on to the next one.

Reb Yaakov left the yeshiva and started going down the road to the next yeshiva. As Reb Yaakov was riding down the street, someone was running after him.

Reb Yaakov looked to see who it was. It was one of the bochurim from the yeshiva. Reb Yaakov stopped his wagon and waited for the bochur catch up.

“Excuse me, I hope you do not mind, but can you tell me the answer to your question?” the bochur asked. "Please, I beg of you, tell me the answer to your question.”

Reb Yaakov smiled and said: "I want to tell you something: You are the right chosson for my daughter!"

"Why?" asked the bochur. "I do not deserve to marry your daughter. Just please, what’s the answer to your question?"

"Aha!" Reb Yaakov said. "I made up a question that is impossible to answer. I wanted to find a bochur who really wanted to know the answer to the question, whether or not he would get anything for it. That bochur would be my son-in-law.”

Reb Yaakov continued: “I went to many yeshivos and asked the question of all the bochurim. Of course, no one knew the answer. But then, you were the only one who came running after me to know the answer to the question.”

What do we learn from this story?

We should learn Torah, not for a reward but for the sake of the Torah itself.

The Lottery Ticket

There was once a chosid of Reb Levi Yitzchok of Berditchev. This chosid was a very wealthy man. He owned many different businesses, and he did good things with his money.

One day, this chosid went to see Reb Levi Yitzchok. When he entered his Rebbe’s room, he started to cry.

The chosid said: “Rebbe, nobody knows about it, but my business is going down. Not only don’t I have money, but I also owe a lot of money!

“Rebbe, what should I do?” the chosid asked.

Reb Levi Yitzchok of Berditchev lowered his head in deep thought. He then answered: “Go into town, and buy a lottery ticket. Hashem will help, and everything will be fine.”

The chosid still felt a bit uncomfortable. He said: “Rebbe, I trust your words that everything will be fine. However, it might take years until I win any money from the lottery. What will be until then? I have a daughter who is about to get married, and I do not have enough money for the chassunah!”

“Do not worry,” said Reb Levi Yitzchok of Berditchev. “Even before you win the lottery, you will have enouhg money to marry off your daughter.”

The chosid left the room of Reb Levi Yitzchok of Berditchev feeling better. He went to buy a lottery ticket, and set out on his way home.

At the end of the day, the chosid needed to stop at a hotel or inn to sleep over. He found a hotel where he decided to spend the night.

One of the other guests at the hotel, was a high ranking officer of the king.

That night, the officer had a dream. In his dream, he heard someone ask him if he had a lottery ticket. It so happened, that this officer also had a lottery ticket.

“Well,” the person in his dream said, “your lottery ticket will not win. But, there is someone in this hotel who has the winning ticket. This man is a Jew.”

The officer woke up, but he did not believe his dream. He fell back asleep, and had the same dream, again!

The next morning, the officer remembered the dream. He thought to himself: “That dream that I had must be true. After all, I had the same exact dream twice!”

The officer summoned one of his assistants, and told him to look for a yid who was staying at the hotel. The assistant left, and soon returned with the chosid who we were talking about, trailing behind him.

The officer said to the chosid: “Hi there! Do you by any chance have a lottery ticket?”

The chosid felt a little strange. Why was this officer asking him if he had a lottery ticket? “Yes, I do have a lottery ticket. Why do you ask?”

“Oh,” the officer replied, “I wanted to know if you were interested in trading lottery tickets. I just bought mine yesterday.”

“That’s interesting,” said the chosid, “so did I. Still, I don’t think that I am interesting in trading lottery tickets.”

The officer wanted the lottery ticket very badly. He thought of giving money to the chosid to get the lottery ticket.

“How about this,” said the officer. “I will pay you for your lottery ticket. How about 25 rubles?”

“No, officer,” the chosid answered. “I will not sell my lottery ticket to you.”

“Okay,” the officer said. “Twenty-five rubles is a joke. How about 250 rubles?”

Of course, the chosid did not want to sell his lottery ticket that had bought with a brocha from Reb Levi Yitzchok of Berditchev.

The officer continued haggling with the chosid, but the chosid would not give in. The officer was getting impatient. He wanted the ticket very badly, so he just took it from the chosid.

The officer did not want anyone to say that he stole the ticket, so he gave the chosid his ticket, plus a large sum of money.

Soon the officer left the hotel, and so did the chosid, who was on his way home.

Now the chosid had enough money for his daughter’s chassunah, since the officer gave him a lot of money for his ticket.

The second part of Reb Levi Yitzchok of Berditchev’s brocha was fulfilled, but will the first one also be fulfilled? Maybe the brocha was only for the original ticket that the chosid had bought!

Well, the day of the grand drawing arrived, and guess which ticket won! The officer didn’t win, but the chosid of Reb Levi Yitzchok of Berditchev did!

The chosid claimed his reward, which was one million rubles. He had won enough money to get his business up and running again.

What do we learn from this story?

Tzaddik Goizer, V’Hakodosh Boruch Hu M’kayem — A tzaddik decrees and Hashem fulfills.

The Piece of Chicken

In the time of the Alter Rebbe, there lived a bubby who had einiklach.

The most important thing to the bubby, was that her einiklach should learn Torah. Of course, she also wanted them to be healthy and have all the good things that a person needs, but the most important thing to her was Torah.

When the einiklach came home from yeshiva, and their bubby was home, she would ask them: “Vos hostu haint gelernt?—What did you learn today?”

So, they would all relate what they had learnt, each child in his own way. But when it was Shmuli’s turn to relate what he had learnt, there was a problem. What was the problem? The problem was that he could not remember the gemmora that he had learnt.

Shmuli remembered everything else, but not the gemmora! The bubby knew that something was wrong. Why wasn’t Shmuli able to remember the gemmora that he learnt?

The bubby da’avened to Hashem. She also said tehillim. She said: “Please Hashem, open Shmuli’s mind so that he would be able to learn gemmora!” The bubby was always da’avening to Hashem, so that He should help and Shmuli should be able to learn gemmora.

For a while, it seemed to the bubby that her tefilos were unanswered. But she knew better. “Hashem will send help soon,” she thought.

Well, Hashem did send help soon. One day, it was announced in the town that the great tzaddik, Rabbi Akiva Eiger, would be visiting. There would be a great celebration and everybody would have a chance to see the tzaddik in person.

That would be a very great z’chus—to see Rabbi Akiva Eiger and maybe even get a brocha from him.

That’s just what the bubby needed—a brocha. She needed a brocha so that her einikel Shmuli would be able to learn gemmora. So, when Rabbi Akiva Eiger came to town, the bubby was one of the first people to get in line to see him.

When the bubby’s turn came to go past the tzaddik, she broke down crying. She said to the tzaddik: “My grandson Shmuli can’t learn gemmora. Please, please give him a brocha! Please help him!”

Rabbi Akiva Eiger looked at the bubby and asked: “What has the boy been eating? What about the kashrus of the food that he has been eating?”

The bubby was so surprised! She could hardly move. Her family was very strict with kashrus. All the food that came into their house was one hundred percent kosher to the highest standards. Why would Rabbi Akiva Eiger say “What has the boy been eating?”

But, the line was going fast and the bubby had to leave the room.

As the bubby was walking home, she was thinking about what the tzaddik had said. It did not make too much sense that Shmuli had eaten non-kosher food. “Maybe,” she thought, “Shmuli ate something out of the house that he really should not have eaten.”

That really did not make too much sense either because in the bubby’s family, no one was allowed to eat anything outside the house. But maybe Shmuli had eaten something out of the house that was not kosher.

So, when the bubby got home, she asked Shmuli: “Shmuli, did you eat something outside of the house that you were not allowed to eat? Did you go to another home and eat something? There’s something you ate that you really shouldn’t have eaten.”

Shmuli looked at bubby and started to cry. “Bubby, one time I ate something that I think maybe I was not allowed to eat. Only one time!”

The bubby said: “Shmuli, one time is probably enough. What did you eat that one time?”

“Well,” Shmuli said, “one day, I was walking back from yeshiva with one of my friends. We walked past the chassunah hall and there was a chassunah going on at that time. There was singing and dancing and it was very lebidik.

“Then somebody came out of the building, with a very happy expression on his face. He saw us boys, and he said: ‘Boys! Come inside and have a piece of chicken! There is so much food here and it’s so lebidik! You can dance a little and I’ll give you a piece of chicken.’”

Shmuli continued: “My friend said: “Yeah! Let’s go inside, and let’s dance and have a piece of chicken! I am hungry anyway.’ I said: ‘I am hungry too, but I do not know about this chassunah. I was not invited and I do not know if I am allowed to eat this chicken.

“‘My parents are not here, and my bubby is not here either to tell me if I could eat this chicken or not.’ My friend wouldn’t take that for an answer he said: ‘Oh, don’t you know? All the chassunahs are here and I’m sure the chicken is good. Come on! Let’s go have a piece of chicken! It’ll only take a few minutes and it will be so much fun! We’ll dance and we’ll have some chicken.’

“So, I went along with my friend and we danced and then ate some chicken. After that, I wanted to leave right away, so that’s what we did. When we got back home, I didn’t tell anyone what had transpired, and this is the first time I am telling the story.”

When the bubby heard that, she said: “Do you remember when that chassunah was, Shmuli?”

Shmuli tried very hard to remember. It was such a long time ago. Finally, he remembered. He even remembered what day it was!

When Shmuli told his bubby what day the chassunah was, she quickly ran to the chassunah hall and went into a certain side room. In that room, there was a drawer with a notebook in it. The notebook listed each chassunah that took place in that hall.

Inside the notebook was noted the name of the chosson, the name of the kallah, the date that the chassunah took place, and other things like that.

The bubby wanted to see who was the shochet for the chassunah that Shmuli had eaten by. Maybe there was a problem with the way he shechted the chickens, she thought.

The bubby found the entry for that chassunah, and she took down the name of the shochet who shechted the chickens, and some other information.

Then the bubby left the hall, and set on her way to the shochet’s house. When she arrived there, she knocked on the door, and was let in.

She asked to speak to the shochet, and she was given a place to sit down. Soon the shochet appeared.

The bubby asked the shochet: “Do you remember shechting the chickens for this chassunah?” She then showed him a paper with the names of the chosson and kallah.

The shochet looked at the paper, and his face turned white. He said: “Yes, I do. But I’ll tell you, I’m very, very sorry if I caused any problems. What made you come here?”

The bubby then told the shochet the whole story with her einikel. She then asked: “Do you know if there was anything wrong with the chickens that you shected for that chassunah?”

“Well,” said the shochet. “Let me tell you the whole story.

“That chosson came to me before his chassunah and he asked me to shecht many chickens. Really, as a shochet, I was supposed to check a few things, to see who the chosson was and who the kallah was and if they were allowed to get married, according to halacha.

“But, then, I was busy and I needed money for my family. So, I just thought, I will shecht the chickens, get the money, and I do not have to worry about who the chosson is or who the kallah is.

“Later on, after the chassunah, I got a letter from the Alter Rebbe. The Alter Rebbe said that this man and this woman were not allowed to get married.”

The shochet continued: “Because of certain things that the man did, and certain things that the woman did, according to halacha, they were not allowed to get married.

“They would only be able to get married after they would fix up the things that they did. But, they were not careful to straighten out these things, and came to our town to get married here.

“The Alter Rebbe said that since this couple was getting married even though they were not allowed to, the chickens would not be kosher, no matter who shechted them.

“Since I did not check up to see who exactly the chosson and kallah were, I did not know that they were not allowed to get married, and I shechted the chickens. Only later I found out the chickens were considered treif,” concluded the shochet.

The bubby then saw that from this one time that her einikel ate this treife chicken, his head got “blocked up” and he was not able to learn gemmora.

Of course, there is always teshuva, so the bubby found out a way that her einikel could do teshuva.

Shmuli travelled to a different city and he learnt in the yeshiva there, day and night. He learnt with mesiras nefesh and he worked on himself so that he would be able to learn and understand the gemmora.

What do we learn from this story?

1. Something that seems to be a small thing might be a very big thing.

2. Nothing stands in the way of teshuva.

An Interesting Recipe

Many years ago, there lived a talmid chochom whose name was Reb Dovid. Although Reb Dovid was a great talmid chochom, he also had a Rebbe. Reb Dovid’s Rebbe was the Chozeh of Lublin.

Occasionally, Reb Dovid would visit his Rebbe. When Reb Dovid would travel to his Rebbe, he could not afford to hire a coachman. He had to go by foot.

Since it was dangerous to travel alone, Reb Dovid would travel with one of his friends, Reb Chaim. Reb Chaim was also very poor.

One time, Reb Dovid and Reb Chaim went together to the Chozeh of Lublin, who was also Reb Chaim’s Rebbe.

As usual, Reb Dovid stopped by at Reb Chaim’s house, and together they continued on their way.

When Reb Dovid returned home, he told his family all that he had learned by his Rebbe. But, this time, he also told his family about something he would never talk about…food!

“When I went to Reb Chaim’s house, his wife served the most delicious food. We have to find out the recipe,” said Reb Dovid.

Reb Dovid's wife, Devorah Leah, knew that her husband was a tzaddik, and he did not care about what he ate, as long as it was kosher. This was the first time that he had ever spoken about food!

Devorah Leah knew that if her husband was speaking about food, it must have been a very special food. When she had a chance, Devorah Leah went to visit Reb Chaim’s wife. Of course, she wanted to know the recipe for the food that she had cooked for Reb Dovid.

Devorah Leah went to Reb Chaim's house. Reb Chaim's wife, Rochel, opened the door.

“Sholom Aleichem!” Rochel said. “What brings you here?”

“Oh,” Devorah Leah said. “My husband was interested in knowing the recipe for the delicious food that you cooked when he was at your house.

“My husband hardly ever mentioned food in his life and now, when he came back from the Chozeh of Lublin, he started talking about the food that you prepared! There must be something special about that food."

Rochel said: “I really don’t know what was so special about the food that I prepared, but I will tell you how I prepared it:

“When your husband came over, my husband sat down and started to learn with him. It got late and I knew that they would be hungry. I went in the kitchen to see what I could prepare for them.

“I knew that I would be lucky to find enough food for one person, but still, I started looking. I looked in all the cupboards and drawers, but I could not find anything.

“Then, I remembered that I had a bag of flour on the top shelf. I thought to myself: 'What am I going to do with a little bag of flour?' But then I got an idea.

“I went out of the house, through the backyard and into the forest. I picked all kinds of things from the ground, like twigs, seeds, leaves, and so on. I put them all in my apron pocket, and then took them inside the house.

“I put everything in a pot and I sprinkled the flour over it. I poured water into the pot, and lit the stove.”

Rochel continued: “As the ‘food’ was cooking, I was daavening to Hashem that the ‘food’ should taste like something and that it should be edible.

“When the ‘food’ was cooked, I poured in into two bowls and put it on the table. Somehow my husband and your husband both ate it,” concluded Rochel.

“You should know,” said Devorah Leah, “that my husband hardly ever mentioned food in his life, but he said that the food he ate in your house had the taste of Gan Eden!”

What do we learn from this story?

The ko'ach of tefilah could take anything and totally turn it around.

The Lost Chickens

In the time of the Mishna, in Eretz Yisroel, there was a man walking down the street. This man was holding a big, big bag of brown chickens.

All the chickens in the man’s bag were tied together with red string on their feet. Of course, these chickens were not frozen! They were live chickens that the man must have been taking to the marketplace.

The man was walking for awhile, and soon he got very hungry and tired. He decided, “Let me sit down right here and rest for awhile. Later, I will look for a place to buy food.”

So, the man put down his bag of chicken. He sat down on a bench that was in front of a broken-down house.

After resting on the bench for awhile, the man decided to go on his way. When he stood up, he realized that he was still hungry. He had not eaten while he was resting, of course!

The man had to go to a store, to buy some food. He looked around but did not see any stores. He asked someone who happened to be passing by, “Where is the nearest fruit store or bakery?”

The man answered, “Oh, it’s pretty far away. You need to go down to the first sign, make a left there, and then go until you see the store. It’s a long walk.”

“Thank you,” the first man said. “To get to the store will take a while, so I think I will leave my bag here and get back to it later,” he thought to himself.

That is what the man did. He left his bag of chickens next to the broken-down house, and went on his way to the food store.

The man found the food store, and went inside to buy something. He bought some food, ate it, and then he felt much better. Now, he had to go back to find his big bag of chickens.

So, the man started walking. He tried to retrace his steps to the broken-down house. He was walking and walking, but could not find the house where he had left his chickens. He soon realized that he was lost.

The man decided that he would not spend forever looking for his chickens. He would just go on his way and leave the chickens behind at the broken-down house.

In the broken-down house, there happened to live the great tzaddik, Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa. As we know, Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa was very poor.

Well, Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa’s wife was in the house and she heard chicken noises coming from outside. She opened the door, and went outside to see where the noise was coming from.

Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa’s wife found the bag of chick-ens. The bag did not have a name on it, so she did not know who had brought it there. But, she did know that there was a mitzva of hashovas aveidoh—returning a lost item to its owner.

So, she brought the chickens into her house. She thought, “Someone must have left these chickens here. I will take care of the chickens until their owner comes back to claim them.”

Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa’s wife then untied the feet of the chickens and fed them. She then put the chickens in a place were they could run around, but would not be able to get lost.

Every day, Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa’s wife would feed the chickens. Soon the chickens started laying eggs. Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa could not afford to buy eggs, but here their whole yard was covered with eggs!

But of course, Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa or his wife would not take those eggs, because the eggs did not belong to them. The eggs were just spread out all over the yard.

Soon the chickens sat on the eggs, and they hatched. Now, there were not only the original chickens in the yard, but also little chicks.

So, there were more chickens, and more eggs—more chickens, more eggs, more chickens, more eggs, and on and on.

After some time, there were chickens everywhere in Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa’s yard. There were chickens in the house too! The chickens were making so much noise, that it was almost impossible to sleep at night.

So, Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa took all the chickens to the marketplace and sold them. With that money, he bought a large herd of goats and brought them home.

The goats were a little easier to control than the chickens. They were kept in a barn, and ate the hay from some of the ownerless fields in the forest.

Soon, the goats gave birth to baby goats, and then those goats grew up and gave birth to more goats. Meanwhile, no one came to claim the bag of chickens.

As more and more goats were being born—and other goats were growing up—it was hard to manage all of them. They all needed eat, and Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa and his wife also need to make sure that none of them were lost.

Well, one day, walking down the street, was the same man who had lost his chickens in the beginning of this story. He was walking with one of his friends.

When the man saw Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa’s house, he said, with a pretty loud voice, “That’s the house! That’s the house!”

His friend asked him: “Which house? What are you talking about?”

“That house over there,” the man answered, “Quite a few years ago, at this house, I lost a big bag of chickens. What happened was, I was walking past here, holding a bag of chickens, and I was very tired and hungry.

“I sat down on this bench to rest, and fell asleep. Then, when I awoke, I wanted to go buy some food. But, as you see now, there were no stores in sight. So, someone told me that to get to the nearest store, one had to go down to the first sign, make a left there, and then just walk straight until one reaches the store.

“I knew that it would be a long walk, so I decided to leave my bag of chickens here. Later, when I wanted to come pick up my chickens, I got lost and could not find this house, so I just decided to forget about the chickens and that was it. This is the first time in years that I saw this house,” concluded the man.

When the man was saying this, Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa was right by the window learning. When he heard what the man was saying, he went outside and asked him, “Excuse me, did you once lose chickens here a few years ago?”

“Yes, I did,” the man answered.

“What color were they?” Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa asked.

“They were brown, and they were tied together with red string,” the man answered.

“Well, then I have something for you.” Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa said. “Come with me.”

So, Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa showed the man the goats and told him the whole story of what happened to the chickens.

What do we learn from this story?

When we find something that was lost, we should try to return it. This mitzva is called hashovas aveidoh.

Fish or Chicken?

The following story took place during the time of the Spanish Inquisition.

During the Spanish Inquisition, many yidden had to be secret yidden. They were called “Marranos.” They had to pretend as if they were not yidden, otherwise they would be severely punished. Many times they were publicly burnt at the stake.

They would learn Torah and do all the mitzvos in secret. They had secret minyanim in special secret basements. Everything they did was in secret.

Well, this story is about a man named Chaim Yaakov and his wife Tova. One Friday night, Chaim Yaakov came home from the secret shul that was in someone else’s house.

He and his wife quietly tip-toed into a secret room in the basement. They would have to conduct their Shabbos meal there, otherwise, the police would be able to spy on them very easily.

Downstairs, Chaim Yaakov began to pour the wine into his becher and was preparing to make kiddush.

Meanwhile, there was someone right outside Chaim Yaakov’s house. He was looking through a tiny crack in the wall of the basement. This man was… one of the secret police of Spain!

Chaim Yaakov did not know about the crack in the wall, and neither did he know about the policeman who was watching him, so he started to make kiddush.

The policeman said to one of his friends that was there, “Uh, the man is standing up with a cup in his hands, and he’s saying a whole bunch of words.

“That’s a little strange. Oh, now he’s drinking from the cup. It’s wine there. Yeah, maybe he’s just having a nice cup of wine.

“Okay, now he is washing his hands. Maybe they got a little dirty. Now he is uncovering two loaves of bread. It’s strange bread; it’s very bumpy.

“Why does he need two loaves? Oh, he’s probably going to have a big meal.

“You know,” the policeman said, “I think this man might be one of those Marranos, because he’s doing a lot of strange things. Let’s see what he’ll do next.

“Uh, now he is saying some more words, and he is cutting the bread. Very funny bread!

“Now he is eating the bread. Okay, now I see someone putting fish on the table. That’s very good. He’s not eating meat—he’s eating fish.”

In Spain, there was a law, that on Friday night, no one was allowed to eat meat or chicken—only fish.

The policeman continued, “He finished the fish. Okay, now he’s eating soup. It looks like it’s probably fish soup, or maybe vegetable soup.

“You know, let’s get going,” the police man said. “I do not see this man doing anything wrong. He is just having a nice meal.”

“No, no!” his friend said. “Maybe after this he is going to eat something else… Maybe he is going to have chicken or meat. Then we will know for sure if he is a Marrano.”

Well, after Chaim Yaakov finished his “fish soup,” which was really chicken soup, his wife served chicken.

“Oh, what is that?” asked the policeman. “It looks like chicken,” his friend answered. “I told you we were correct to stay here.”

The two policemen then broke down the door of the house, and after some investigation, they found the entry to the secret basement. They went downstairs and said to Chaim Yaakov, “You’re under arrest. We caught you eating chicken on Friday night!

“You are a Marrano and you are coming with us to the judge!”

So, Chaim Yaakov went with the two policemen to the judge. The policemen explained to the judge what had happened.

The judge asked, “Is this the first time that you caught this man or is it the second time?”

“It’s the first time,” the policemen answered.

“Okay,” the judge said. “Let’s baptize him now, so that he won’t be a Jew anymore!” The judge then took some water and spayed it three times on Chaim Yaakov.

“You are not a Jew anymore,” the judge said. “No more Shabbos, no more mitzvos, no more Torah. Now go home.”

So, Chaim Yaakov went home. When Tova saw that he was fine, she said, “Chaim Yaakov, what happened to you? I see Boruch Hashem you are fine. What transpired at the courthouse?”

“Oh,” Chaim Yaakov said, “when I came there, they sprayed some water on me and said that I was a goy. That sounds pretty strange—I don’t know. I’m tired now, so I think I’ll go to sleep.”

So, Chaim Yaakov said krias shema and went to sleep.

The next week, on Friday night, again Chaim Yaakov came home from the secret shul, and was ready to make kiddush.

As Chaim Yaakov was making kiddush, the same policeman was spying on him from the same crack in the wall that was used last week.

The policeman saw Chaim Yaakov making kiddush. “That’s no problem,” he thought. Then Chaim Yaakov made hamotzi. “That’s okay too,” the police man said to himself.

The meal went on—fish, chicken soup, and then…chicken!

The policeman broke into Chaim Yaakov’s house again and arrested him. He told him, “Don’t you know that you are not allowed to eat chicken? You’re under arrest, and this time you are going to be severely punished!”

Chaim Yaakov came to the courthouse. When the judge saw Chaim Yaakov, he asked the policeman, “Didn’t you bring this man to me last week?”

“Yes,” the policeman answered, “but I arrested him again. I caught him eating chicken.”

The judge asked, “Well sir, what do you have to say for yourself? You know that you are not allowed to eat chicken or meat on Friday night!”

Chaim Yaakov said, “I was not eating chicken. I was eating fish.”

“Do not tell me you were eating fish!” exclaimed the judge. “This looks like chicken to me—it smells like it too. How can you say that it is not chicken?!”

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Chaim Yaakov said. “We were having supper, and my wife must have forgotten that it was Friday night, so she served chicken. Of course, I didn’t want to eat the chicken, so I sprayed my soup on it three times, and I said that it was fish.”

“That’s impossible,” said the judge. “You cannot spray soup on the chicken three times and change it into fish. If it’s chicken, it’s chicken. You can’t change that!”

Chaim Yaakov said, “Well, last week, when I was brought here, you sprayed me with water three times, and told me that I was not a Jew anymore. I thought, if you can do that to me, I can do that to chicken. So, I sprayed my chicken with the soup three times, and called it fish.”

What do we learn from this story?

A yid is a yid, no matter what happens to him. Even spraying him three times will not change that.