The Fisherman and the King’s Chamberlain

Posted on Friday, 20, June, 2025Friday, 20, June, 2025 by Rabbi

A Tale from Myanmar (Burma)

Once there was a king who could not eat any meal unless it included a dish of fried fish. One day, there blew a great storm, and fishermen could not catch any fish. The King could not eat any breakfast because there was no fried fish, and he was very annoyed. Lunchtime came, but there was no fish, and the King was very angry. Dinnertime approached, but still there was no prospect of any fried fish, and the King was now desperate. “Let it be announced by beat of gong and drum,” ordered he, “that the fisherman who brings me, but one single fish will be given any reward that he may name.” However, the storm continued to rage, and the waters remained turbulent.

At dusk, a fisherman, trying with a mere line and hook, caught a fat and oily fish and ran with all his might to the King’s palace. The guards, seeing the fish in the Fisherman’s hand, threw open the gates, and the Fisherman reached the King’s chamber without hindrance. But at the chamber door, the Chamberlain said, “Promise me half your reward and I will let you in.”

“One-tenth,” promised the Fisherman.

“Oh, no,” said the Chamberlain, “One half, and no less.” “Agreed,” replied the Fisherman, and in great glee, the Chamberlain announced to the King the arrival of a Fisherman with a fish. The King, in great joy, seized hold of the fish and the Fisherman’s hand and rushed into the kitchen.

After the fish had been fried, the dinner was laid before the King, and the King had eaten. He sat back, hugging his well-filled stomach, and asked, “Fisherman, name your reward. Do you want a priceless ruby, a well-paid post, or a pretty maid from the queen’s bower?”

“No, Sire, no, Sire,” replied the Fisherman, falling on his knees. “I want twenty lashes with your cane.”

“The poor fellow is flabbergasted,” mused the King, “and he does not know what he is saying.” So, he said gently to the Fisherman, “My man, you mean twenty rubies, or twenty elephants, or even twenty horses.”

“No, Sire, no, Sire,” replied the Fisherman. “I want just twenty lashes with your cane.”

“I am sorry,” sighed the King, “But I must keep my promise and give you what you ask.” So saying, he took up a cane and beat the Fisherman gently.

“No, Sire, no Sire,” said the Fisherman, “not so soft, Sire, please hit me hard.” Feeling annoyed, the King wielded the cane with some vigor, but when he gave the Fisherman ten lashes, to his astonishment, he saw the Fisherman jump away.

“Have I hit you too hard?” the King inquired with concern and pity.

“No, Sire, no, Sire,” explained the Fisherman, “but the remaining ten lashes are your Chamberlain’s share.”

The poor Chamberlain had to confess what he had done, but pleaded, “My Lord, I asked for a half share of his reward, and not of his punishment.”

“But this is my reward and not my punishment,” argued the Fisherman. The King sent for the Princess Learned-in-the-Law to come and decide the case.

“My Lord King;’ said the Princess Learned-in-the-Law after she had arrived and listened to the two litigants. “The Chamberlain and the Fisherman were partners in a business, to wit, to supply a fish to the King, and they agreed to share. But my Lord, in a partnership, the agreement to share does not mean that only the profits are to be shared, but it means that gain and loss, income and expenditure, success and failure, reward and punishment, are to be equally shared.”

The King accepted the judgment of the Princess and gave the Chamberlain ten good lashes with his cane. Then he said, “The partnership is now dissolved, as the business has ended. As a consequence, however, I order that the Chamberlain be dismissed for corruption and disloyalty, and the Fisherman appointed in his place.”

May all your tales end with peace and Justice

A Justice Tale shared by the IPS Chaplain

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The Quality of Mercy

Posted on Friday, 13, June, 2025Sunday, 15, June, 2025 by Rabbi

A Tale from Morocco

In ancient times, in Morocco and in the city of Casablanca, there was a rich and prominent merchant. One day, the merchant fell ill and saw that he would not recover. He called for his only son and asked, “Son, what will you do with my money after I die?”

The son replied, “If anyone needs money, I will give him some.

If anyone invites me to a party, I will go. What else is money for?”

The father groaned, “I should have taught you my business and how to make money grow. I was always too busy.” The father died knowing that his fortune would be scattered to the winds.

And so it was, the son squandered his inheritance on gifts and celebrations. When he had no roof over his head or food for his belly, he went to the marketplace to beg alms. He sat among the leather workers and the vegetable sellers with his outstretched hand. But on every corner were customers and friends of his father. He was ashamed to be seen begging. “I will go to Marrakesh. No one knows me there,” he told himself.

He walked barefoot from the coast of the Atlantic across the rising and falling waves of sand dunes. At last, rising out of the desert like a mirage, he saw the minaret on the red ramparts of Marrakesh. Behind the city towered the snowy range of the Atlas Mountains. He walked through olive and palm groves into the city. “Surely I will find my fortune here,” he thought.

But because he knew no work but begging, he was soon sitting in the square, surrounded by the music of cymbal and drum. The square was filled with fire-eaters, storytellers, water sellers, and traveling merchants.

One day, a man stopped and called the young beggar by name. “Is it you? Why are you begging?” He was a rich merchant and rival to his late father.

The young man was too ashamed to tell that he had spent his inheritance. Instead, he lied. “I was traveling to buy goods! But thieves robbed me.”

The rich merchant took pleasure in seeing his rival’s son begging for coins. But he put on a kind face and said, “In your father’s memory, I will help you. Come and share a glass of mint tea with me.”

When they were seated on cushions inside the merchant’s stall, the merchant made an astounding offer. “I shall lend you any sum you ask for. You can do whatever you wish with it; any profit you make will be yours. But there is a condition. If at the year’s end you do not pay, I will cut one kilogram of flesh from your body.”

The young man was startled by the condition of the bargain. But he said, “I have no choice,” and signed the agreement.

Throughout the year, the young man engaged in business, but he was unlucky and untrained. He lost all the money. What did the young man do? At the end of the year, he went to the palace where the king sat in assembly. He sat outside the gates wringing his hands and rocking to and fro. He took no food or water and prayed he would die before his life was forfeit. He wept, “I should have been born a kitten and drowned at birth.”

Days passed. Finally, he was observed by the king’s daughter. She was on her way to listen to the cases brought before her father. The princess had a quick and clever mind, a tender heart, and a voice as sweet as a flute echoing through marble halls. Her mother and sisters stayed cloistered behind harem walls. Instead, the princess went to hear her father’s judgments. She concealed herself in a room near the throne to listen to the proceedings. How wise and just was her father, always following the letter of the law.

So it was that one day the princess saw the young man outside the gate, and she was touched by his despair. She sent her servant to ask, “Young man, why do you weep?”

It was not until the third day that the young man replied, “Because I was foolish, and tomorrow I shall die for it.” He told his story. When the servant told the princess, she sent a note which said, “Come to court tomorrow, and you will be aided by one who loves mercy.”

The appointed hour came. The princess disguised herself as a lawyer. She walked through arched corridors hung with silver lamps and entered the Royal Audience Chamber. The merchant and the young man were assembled with the crowds of petitioners. At last, the King asked the rich merchant, ”What does the young man owe you?”

The merchant took the agreement out of his pocket. The King read it and asked the young man, “Do you agree that you signed this document?”

“Ruler of the stars, what can I say? You see my signature here. But one thing you must know. I entered into this agreement because I had no other choice.”

Then the Princess stepped from the crowd. She was dressed in a hooded caftan and kept her face turned and concealed in the hood. In a clear, strong voice, she addressed the King, “Our gracious lord! This was a bargain freely made. I agree on behalf of my client to give a kilogram of flesh to the merchant, but I insist that he cut off exactly one kilogram in a single stroke. If he cuts off too little, then he must make up the difference, and if he cuts off too much, he must restore the extra amount from his own body.”

The merchant protested, “I demand justice! I cannot cut exactly one kilogram of flesh in a single stroke. The agreement does not specify a single stroke.”

“That is correct,” the princess said. “There is no such condition, but our most wise ruler, in his mercy, may impose one.”

“Why should I impose a condition that is impossible, then the merchant is without his money or the flesh?” responded the King.

She answered his question, “The law would require that the merchant receive his payment, either money or flesh. Since there is no money, it is the flesh. And indeed, the merchant has come with a sharpened dagger beneath his robes. But where is the mercy in such a result? The young man will die; the merchant will have only a lump of flesh. And, you, my gracious lord, will have blood on your white marble floors.”

She continued, “Perhaps there is another way, a way that provides justice and more kindness than justice requires.”

The crowds were hushed and listening to the beardless young lawyer. The King leaned forward. “Counselor, would you enlighten us all about this other way?”

justice

“Yes, my lord. Let the merchant receive the labor of the young man until the debt is paid. The young man needs the guidance of a mentor. The merchant needs to temper his ethics with concern for more than money. All can gain from such a result.”

“Well spoken!” replied the King. “And so it will be. Young debtor, use this opportunity to make something of yourself. Merchant, you shall take this young debtor into your service. Work and train him until the debt is discharged. It is our wish that you open your heart and mind to him, that you treat him as a son and bring him to the marketplace as a credit to you, his dead father, and your king.”

The litigants dropped to the floor and bowed to their king, arose, and turned to leave the courtroom. As the crowd filed from the chamber, the King called to the Princess, “Counselor, I wish to speak to you. I do not know you. Come closer so I may see your face.”

The Princess was startled and replied, without thinking, “Oh, Father, I cannot.” When she realized her mistake, she felt exposed and covered her face.

The King roared, “Who is this who calls me ‘Father’? Why are you hiding your face? Show yourself.”

The Princess turned her face and dropped her hand and hood so that her father could gaze upon her. “Is this my daughter? What am I to do with such boldness? Leave me!”

The princess fled to the garden where she sat rocking and trembling. The King paced and pondered and at last went to the garden. He took his daughter’s hands and said, “My daughter, my dove. I want to open my heart and mind to you. Will you come and sit at my right hand? Will you be my mercy?”

“Yes, my lord and gracious King,” replied the princess. “I will.”

Through the long years ahead, the kingdom was ruled with more kindness than justice required.

May all your tales end with peace and Justice

a Justice Tale shared by the IPS Chaplain

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Ooka the Judge and the Case of the Stolen Cloth

Posted on Friday, 6, June, 2025 by Rabbi

A tale from Japan

Once upon a time, long ago in the city known as Edo, a place we now call Tokyo, there lived a quiet man, a talented kimono maker who was regarded as an artist with a needle. His kimonos were of the finest quality; his silks and brocades were exquisite, and his workmanship was unequaled.

One day the kimono maker was in the market where he purchased material for his beautiful kimonos. He was looking for special fabrics to make a “uchikake” for a bride-to-be, the kimono that she would wear over her special white bridal kimono. He had searched long and hard for the most beautiful fabrics, and now he spotted another, a silk brocade of sea green.

After he had purchased the beautiful brocade and placed it in his cart, he continued to search among the wares of other merchants. Finding another fabric to his liking, he turned to place it in his cart, but discovered that the cart was gone!

“Who has seen my fabric?” he asked the other vendors, and when they shook their heads, he ran to others and asked the same question. “Someone has stolen my cart!” he cried.

Word of the theft spread throughout the market and into the city. Everyone spoke of the theft, appalled that someone must have stolen the kimono maker’s goods.

“Who could it be?” they asked. “We must find the thief.” But not knowing what to do, several of the merchants went to see the most famous judge in the land, Ooka Echizen.

Ooka was renowned as a fair man, but he was more than that. He was, almost miraculously, able to find the truth in every case he heard, though people whispered of his peculiar ways, for he was unusual. Still, Judge Ooka seemed the perfect man to solve this case.

Judge Ooka called the kimono maker to the court and asked him to tell his whole story. “Where were you when your cart was stolen?”

“I turned my back for one moment,” the man said, “and suddenly my cart was gone — and my fabric, too!”

Ooka listened attentively. He carefully studied all the people in his courtroom. “Are all the merchants of the city here?” he asked, and everyone looked around.

“Yes,” one answered. “No one is missing.”

The crowd fell silent, for they understood Judge Ooka was thinking. As he thought, he observed the faces of the bakers and butchers, the tailors and tinkers, trying to determine who might be responsible, but in these faces he saw only innocence and concern.

“Someone is a deceiver,” he thought, but he did not say this aloud. He simply called to the courtroom guards and announced his plan — but only to them. He sent them to the temple in Edo known as the Narihira Santosen. There, he said, they would find one of the statues of the beloved divinity Jizo. “Jizo is meant to protect all sorts of people,” he said, “but he has not done his duty, and so he must be punished.”

The guards stared dumbfounded at the judge. “But sir,” they argued, “you are asking us to arrest a stone statue.”

“I am,” said the judge. “Now do your job.”

The guards departed the courthouse and went to the temple, just as they had been ordered. There they lifted the heavy stone Jizo from his pedestal and bound him in ropes, just as the judge had demanded. Then the guards carried the bound stone statue back to the courthouse.

When the people saw their Jizo bound in ropes, they were, for one moment, amazed. But then, one by one, they burst out laughing. The whispers came soon after. “The judge is mad.” “It’s only a statue!” “What’s come over Ooka? He’s lost his mind.” “How could anyone blame a stone?”

Japan

The courtroom rumbled with laughter. Once they had begun, the people could not stop — not even the kimono maker who, though stunned and sad, had to laugh. “The judge is indeed mad,” he thought.
For a few moments Ooka said nothing. He watched the people laughing and whispering, but then he stood up and said, in his loudest, most commanding voice, “Silence! This court will now come to order!”

The people saw that their judge was serious, and, after nervously tittering for a moment, they fell completely silent.

“Every one of you is in contempt of court,” the judge roared. “And every one of you shall be fined!”

Now no one wanted to laugh. Rather, they all bowed their heads, awaiting their sentence.

“The fine,” Ooka announced, “will be one small swatch of cloth from each of you. Guards, collect the fines.”

Now each person in the courthouse breathed a sigh of relief, for to give up only a tiny piece of cloth would be no great hardship.

The guards walked through the courtroom, gathering cloth from each person, and at the judge’s command, the kimono maker accompanied them. One by one people offered up the tiniest bits of cloth — some snipping bits from their clothing, others offering handkerchiefs and other small pieces.

The kimono maker watched carefully, not quite sure of what was occurring, but then, suddenly, as one man offered up a tiny piece, the kimono maker’s eyes lighted up. “That’s mine!” he cried, for sure enough, there was the evidence — a tiny sliver of that beautiful sea-green silk brocade the kimono maker so cherished.

“This is my cloth!” he repeated as the man who offered up the piece bowed his head.

“And so we have found our thief,” the judge announced, and he called the man up to the stand. “You are guilty, sir,” he said. “We shall set the statue free to guard others from such culprits as you.” And with these words he sent the guards to return the statue to its rightful place in Narihira Santosen Temple. Still, to this day, it is bound with many ropes.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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A Pound of Bread and a Pound of Butter

Posted on Friday, 30, May, 2025 by Rabbi

A Tale of Justice and Fairness

A long time ago, a baker and a farmer lived in the same small English village.

These two men had a friendly arrangement where the farmer would sell a pound of butter to the baker each day.

One morning, the baker decided to weigh the butter to see if he’d received the correct amount.

To his surprise, he discovered that the farmer had sold him less butter than he’d paid for.

Angry about the unfairness, he took the farmer to court.

Justice Tale

At the hearing, the judge asked the farmer whether he used any measure to weigh the butter.

“Your honour, I am but a lowly farmer and do not own a proper measure. I simply use an old-fashioned scale,” he replied.

“How do you weigh the butter then?” inquired the judge.

To this, the farmer answered, “Your honour, long before the baker started buying butter from my farm, I’ve been buying a pound loaf of bread from him. Every day, when he brings me the bread, I place it on my scale and give him the same amount of butter. If anyone is to be blamed, it’s the baker.”

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A Philosopher Learns About Justice

Posted on Friday, 16, May, 2025 by Rabbi

A tale based on Greek Mythology

One day, a Greek philosopher was walking, thinking and wondering about the mysteries of life, when he saw two very tall women towering away in the distance. The philosopher hid behind a chestnut tree (see the note at the end of the story), intending to listen to their conversation. The giant women came and sat nearby, but the King’s son appeared before they could speak to one another. The young prince was bleeding from one ear and shouted pleadingly towards the women,

“Justice! I want justice! A villain cut my ear!”

He pointed to another boy, his younger brother, who arrived wielding a bloody sword.

The two women replied to the young prince and replied, “We will be pleased to give you justice, young prince.”

“We are goddesses of justice. Just choose which of the two of us you would prefer to help you.”

“What’s the difference between you?” asked the prince.

“What would each of you do?”

“I,” answered one of the goddesses, who looked fragile and delicate,

“will ask your brother what was the cause of his action, and I will listen to his explanation. Then I will require him to protect your other ear with his life, and to make you the most beautiful helmet to cover your scar and to be your ears when you need it.”

The second goddess, who was strong and resolute, responded, ” I, for my part, will not let him go unpunished for his action. I will punish him with a hundred lashes and one year of imprisonment, and he must compensate you for your pain with a thousand gold coins. And I will give you the sword, and you can choose if you’re able to keep the ear or, on the contrary, you want both ears to end up on the ground. Well, what is your decision? Who do you want to apply justice to for the offence?”

The prince looked at the two goddesses. Then he put his hand to the wound, and on touching it, his face gave a gesture of undeniable pain, which ended with a look of anger and affection for his brother. And in a firm voice, addressing the second of the goddesses, he answered.

“I’d rather it was you who helped me. I love him, but it would be unfair if my brother wasn’t punished.”

So, from his hiding place behind the chestnut tree, the philosopher saw the accused receive his punishment and watched how the older brother was content to make a small wound on his brother’s ear without seriously damaging it.

A while passed, and the princes had left, one without an ear and the other served justice, and the philosopher was still in hiding when the least expected thing happened. In front of his eyes, the second of the goddesses changed her clothes and took her true form. She wasn’t a goddess, but the powerful Aries, the god of war. Aries bid goodbye to his companion with a mischievous smile:

“I’ve done it again, dear Themis. Your friends, mankind, can barely distinguish between your righteousness and my revenge. I will prepare my weapons, a new war between brothers is approaching, and I will revel in the battles to come.” Said Aries as he left.

When Aries had left and the philosopher was trying to make off quietly, the goddess spoke aloud, “Tell me, good philosopher, would you have known how to choose correctly? Did you know how to distinguish between the past and the future?”

With that strange greeting began many long and friendly talks. That’s how, from the very hand of Themis, the goddess of justice, the philosopher learned that true justice lies in improving the future, moving it away from past wrongs. False justice and vengeance are incapable of forgiving and forgetting past wrongs, and doing so fixes the future, always ending up being just as bad.

The Chestnut tree (Castanea sativa) represents a personal intercession for justice, a desire for the common good for others and oneself. The tree itself is a reminder “to do justice,” and the flowers indicate seeking it.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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The Slap

Posted on Friday, 28, February, 2025Friday, 28, February, 2025 by Rabbi

a folktale of justice from Turkey

The teacher, Nasreddin Hodja, was standing in the marketplace when a stranger stepped up to him and slapped him in the face. The stranger then said, “I beg your pardon. I thought that you were someone else.”

This explanation did not satisfy Nasreddin, so he brought the stranger before the qadi and demanded justice.

Nasreddin soon realized that the qadi and the stranger were friends. The stranger admitted his guilt, and the judge pronounced the sentence: “The settlement for this offense is one copper coin to be paid to the Nasreddin. If you do not have a copper coin with you, then you may bring it here to the Nasreddin at your convenience.”

Hearing this sentence, the stranger went on his way. Nasreddin waited for him to return with the copper coin. And he waited. And he waited.

Justice

Sometime later, Nasreddin said to the qadi, “Do I understand correctly that one copper coin is sufficient payment for a slap?”

“Yes,” answered the qadi.

Hearing this answer, Nasreddin slapped the judge in the face and said, “You may keep my copper coin when the stranger returns with it,” then walked away.

Justice is sometimes a matter of perception. If there is no justice, there is no peace. (Kad haKemach 14th Century)

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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A Bargain is a Bargain

Posted on Sunday, 23, February, 2025 by Rabbi

a tale of justice from Ireland

There once was a poor widow, and she had three children: two sons and a daughter. They were her every joy. They were clever children, and she wanted to give them the best schooling so they could make something of themselves. Since the widow had no money, no jewels, and no property, she sold the only thing she had – her immortal soul. And, of course, she sold it to the Devil. It was that much she loved those babes.

The Devil gave her a bag of gold sovereigns and said, “I’ll be back for you in twenty years.” Then he settled back until the time he could collect on his debt. He watched and waited, and he watched and waited as the widow spent every coin on education. A good investment it was. The children studied hard and made her proud. The oldest son became a priest, the second son became a doctor, and the daughter became a lawyer. As the years went by, the widow became old and ill.

When the twenty years had passed, the widow lay dying. Her son, the priest, was at her bedside praying. There was a rumble of thunder, a crash of lightning. The door flung open, and in walked the Devil. The priest blocked the way, but the Devil pushed him aside. “Out of me way, I’ve come for your mother.” The priest fell to his knees and prayed that his mother be spared. The Devil gave her one more year of life. Why did the Devil grant an extra year? Perhaps he wanted to court the soul of the priest.

When that year was up, the widow again lay dying. Her son, the doctor, was at her bedside. There was a rumble of thunder and a clap of lightning, and the door flung open. In walked the Devil. The doctor blocked the way. “Out of me way, I’ve come for your mother.” The doctor fell to his knees and pleaded that his mother be spared. And he got one more year off the Devil. Maybe the Devil had a tender spot for moms.

When that year was up, the widow lay dying. There was a rumble of thunder, a clap of lightning. The door flung open, and the Devil came a third time to claim the old woman. He found the daughter there. The Devil called out, “Don’t be using any woman’s tears on me. I’m here to take my due. A bargain is a bargain.” But the daughter did not weep.

Then the Devil remembered she was a lawyer. “And don’t be using your legal words and your courtroom tricks on me.”

She said, “You’ve given sparing to my mother twice already, and I know you can’t be expected to do it again.”

“What a fair-minded lawyer,” thought the Devil.

“But,” says she, “my brothers have not kissed our mother farewell. They will be here soon. Please, just a few more minutes. Will you give her sparing till-till that stub of a candle burns away?”

The Devil turned and looked at the candle burning on the table.

It was only a stub of candle, soon to sputter and die.

”All right,” said the Devil. “Until the candle burns away-not a second more.”

“A bargain is a bargain,” the lawyer said. Before the Devil knew what was happening, she walked to the table, picked up the candle, and blew it out! And then she put it in her pocket.

That was that! It was clear the candle would never be relit and would never burn away. The Devil left without the mother’s soul.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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Rachmiel Tobesman is a motivational speaker and Maggid (spiritual Storyteller). He is available for speaking engagements or storytelling, Click here to contact us

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He Didn’t Deserve His Fee

Posted on Friday, 7, February, 2025 by Rabbi

Once, a small-town doctor, who thought more of his fees than of his patients, was called in to treat the sick wife of a poor tailor. After examining the woman, he turned to the husband and said, “This case will take a lot of my time, and I can see that you won’t be able to pay me for my services.” “Please, doctor, save her life! ” begged the anxious husband. “1 promise to pay you even though I’ll have to pawn everything I own to get the money

“What if I don’t cure her—will you pay my fee just the same?” insisted the doctor.

“Whatever happens, whether you cure her or kill her, I promise to pay.” cried the husband.

The treatment was started, but within a few days, the woman died. Shortly after, the doctor demanded 1500 rubles as his fee. The bereft husband informed him that he was unable to pay, and, as was the custom among the villagers, they brought the matter to the village holy man for settlement.

The sage understood right away what had happened.

“Tell me again,” he asked the physician, “what was your contract with this man?”

“I was to get paid for treating his wife regardless of whether I cured or killed her.”

“Did you cure her?” asked the holy man.

“No.”

“Did you kill her?”

“I certainly did not! “

“Then, since you have neither cured her nor killed her, what right have you to the money?”

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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Rachmiel Tobesman is a motivational speaker and Maggid (spiritual Storyteller). He is available for speaking engagements or storytelling, Click here to contact us

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Ooka the Wise and the Two Women

Posted on Friday, 3, January, 2025 by Rabbi

A Tale of Justice and Wisdom from Japan

One day, a case concerning a baby boy came to Ooka’s court. Two women claimed to be the boy’s mother, and Ooka was faced with the challenge of deciding which woman was telling the truth. Both women had recently come to Yedo (old Tokyo), and so there were no witnesses to support either claim.

Thinking that the child himself would be sure to recognize his own mother, the judge placed him in the middle of the floor, expecting him to crawl toward one of the women. But the child paid no attention to either of the two women and cried for Ooka to pick him up.

Whispers of amusement ran around the courtroom and Ooka’s ears began to rum pink.

The great judge soon thought of another test, however. He ordered the two women to take hold of one of the baby’s arms and to pull as hard as they were able.

“I am sure the real mother will be given strength so that she will win the struggle,” he explained. What he really expected was the real mother would stop pulling the child, for fear of hurting him.

Sadly the two women were not fooled by Ooka’s cleverness, and told the judge they knew he was playing a trick.

Ooka sighed. Finally, he called a court attendant and said, “Go buy me a bowl of goldfish, a handful of bamboo sticks, three pieces of wood, a magnifying glass, and a copy of a book on fortunetelling.”

Ooka the Wise was embarrassed as loud laughter spread around the courtroom. Many of the spectators believed that at last the great judge was defeated by a case.

Ooka quickly called for silence. His ears were very red.

Soon the attendant returned with the articles Ooka had requested. Ooka spread them out carefully in front of him with much ceremony and solemnity. “Now it is obvious to me – as it is to many of you – that I cannot solve this matter,” he said. “Nevertheless, I shall arrive at a just decision, for I shall use these articles to look into the future. There I shall see what my decision should be.”

The spectators were astonished. Ooka the Wise had always used logic and common sense to solve cases. They had never known him to rely on mystical arts such as fortunetelling.

Gravely, the judge took each of the objects and studied them carefully, consulting the fortunetelling book from time to time. He rolled the bamboo sticks to learn their secret. He counted the bubbles in the goldfish bowl. He held the pieces of wood to his ears, and listened to their echoes. Finally, he studied the two women’s palms.

All this Ooka did very thoroughly and slowly, and by the time he had finished, the crowd had become very restless. Everyone was relieved when at last the judge said, “I see it quite clearly now, I have used all the best methods of foreseeing the future, and they all give the same answer. Therefore what I see must be the truth.”

Ooka paused and looked around the courtroom. The spectators waited anxiously to hear what Ooka the Wise had learned.

The judge continued. “I saw very clearly the real mother with her son as they will be twenty years from now. The boy had met with an accident and was a helpless invalid. His mother was working in the rice fields to support him.”

Both women gasped in horror. Ooka looked at them sorrowfully and added, “And the woman I saw in my vision was…”

“Stop!” cried one of the women. “lt was not I! Children are supposed to take care of their parents when they become old, not the other way around.”

“ls that so?” Ooka said. He turned to the other woman. “And how do you feel about my prophecy?” he asked.

“It makes no difference, Most Honorable Sir,” the woman replied.

“I will work for my child while there is breath in my body, and then I will die happy, knowing that I have served him.”

“Then this is really your true son,” said the judge. “The other wanted him only so that he could take care of her in her old age. Take the child with the court’s good wishes.”

The happy mother took the child in her arms. Ooka the Wise said casually, “Oh, I forgot to finish the prophecy. The child recovered from the injury i saw. He became rich and famous. He, his mother, his fine wife, and thirteen children lived happily together for many, many years.”

Strangely enough, Ooka’s prophecy came true. Everyone was surprised, except the judge. “If I had not been called to the law,” he often said later, “I would probably have made an excellent fortuneteller.”

Jpanese Folktales

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Rachmiel Tobesman is a motivational speaker and Maggid (spiritual Storyteller). He is available for speaking engagements or storytelling, Click here to contact us

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What Does a Bribe Look Like

Posted on Friday, 20, December, 2024 by Rabbi

Once, two men were to appear before an older judge over a matter concerning a lot of money. One of the men came the day before he was to appear in court and asked the judge to help him. As he spoke, he laid five hundred silver coins on the table. The old judge took the money and told the man to come back the next day.

That evening the old judge asked that a big dinner be served. He called together his sons, sons-in-law, and many of his colleagues and students. During the meal, the old judge took out the five hundred silver coins and began counting them in front of everyone.

All looked on expectantly, hoping to receive some of the money. After the old judge had counted the money a few times, he put all the coins into his pocket and said:

“Know, my children, that the money that you see is a bribe, and bribery is forbidden by the Holy Word. We are taught, ‘You shall not judge unfairly: you shall show no partiality; you shall not take bribes, for bribes blind the eyes of the discerning and upset the plea of the just.’ (Deuteronomy 16:19)

It is the responsibility of a judge and leader to ‘learn to do good; seek justice; rescue the oppressed’ (Isaiah 1:17) and to set an example for others to follow.

Every day, ‘I walk in the way of righteousness, along the paths of justice’ (Proverbs 8:20), and I wanted to show you what a bribe looks like so that you will know what to avoid.

The next day, the old judge returned the five hundred silver coins to the man and warned him that one is forbidden to either give or receive a bribe.

May the day come soon that ‘all bribery and injustice will be blotted out, and good faith will last forever.’ (Sirach 40:12)

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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Rachmiel Tobesman is a motivational speaker and Maggid (spiritual Storyteller). He is available for speaking engagements or storytelling, Click here to contact us

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