Listen to a short story, The Copper Coin, about how an old copper coin strengthened tzedakah (Charity), faith and led to many blessings.
Category: Rabbi’s thoughts and teaching
The Strange Letter
The boys had gathered at the bottom of a mountain trail and saw in the distance a small building. “Wonder what it was?” questioned Yosaif. “it sure looks old.” Added Dovid. Another voice chimed, “Let’s go. What are we waiting for?” A deep voice said, “Boys let’s stay together and no running ahead. We want to have fun on our trek and not have anyone hurt. Okay?” That was Rabbi Siegel whom the boys wanted to spend part of their vacation in the Galil (northern part of Israel) with their favorite rebbe who told them great stories and taught them Torah.
Rabbi Siegel started the four boys up the mountain trail saying, “We’ll climb up to get a good look of the building. Then we’ll find a nice shady area to eat lunch and then do some learning.” Can we hear some great stories?” Asked Akiva. “Okay, do you boys remember we learned:
answered the rabbi.
The boys seemed to be more interested in the old building an were not raelly listening to their rebbe. Rabbi Siegel grinned at them, “I can see we won’t be leaving here until we’ve explored that deserted building — so let’s go.”
The boys climbed up the mountain trail, at one point they lost sight of the building. The sun beat down on them as Rabbi Siegel stopped and told the boys to gather around him. Some of the boys were breathing heavy and Rabbi Siegel told everyone to sit and rest a few moments and to drink water. The boys thought they rested forever, but it was only about ten minute and they started up the mountain trail again.
As they turn and climbed higher, suddenly they saw the old building. The boys rushed to the doorway of the ruin. Stepping over the crumbled rocks, they found themselves in a rectangular room with stone benches jutting out of the walls. The roof was gone and weeds and wild flowers grew everywhere. They explored every inch of the old building, trying to figure out what this room had been.
Suddenly, Yosaif yelled, “Hey, guys! Look at this!” as he looked at a large black stone that seemed to be out of place. “Help me move this stone”
Dovid got there first, pushing and pulling with Yosaif to move the large, flat black stone that was covering a deep, narrow hole.
“Yaakov, shine your flashlight down here,” said Yosaif. At the bottom, out of reach of even the rebbe’s long arm was a rusty metal tube.
“How can we get it’?”
“What do you think it is?”
“I hope its not dangerous!” said Mendy, the class worrier, who was ignored as usual.
“You know what? It looks like an old Megillah case,”
“Come on boys let’s figure out a way to get the thing up.” Added Rabbi Siegel.
“I’ve got it!” said Yosaif, digging around in his backpack. “I’m glad I was too lazy to clean this thing out before I left. Does anyone have a rope?”
The boys looked at each other “Nope, but maybe we can use the laces from my hiking boots” said Yaakov. They tied the boot laces together and then tied it to a large magnet Yosaif had produced and lowered it down the hole.
Everyone watched as the magnet was lowered into the hole and then they heard a click, “I think I got it, It’s coming up!” shouted Yosaif.
The boys brought the metal tube to Rabbi Siegel “Look at this,” he said. “The tube is sealed with clay at both ends.” He pushed gently on one of the clay seals and it slowly came off and there was a scroll rolled up inside. “It’s stuck . . . no, it’s coming out. It must be hundreds of years old!”
Not a sound was heard as Rabbi Siegel carefully pulled out the ancient scroll and unrolled it. The boys crowded around him, so impressed at the discovery that, for a change, they all spoke quietly, almost in whispers.
“What is it?”
“Is it words?”
“It looks like a foreign language.”
The sunlight played on the scrawled writing that seemed so strange, it was truly a mystery. Rabbi Siegel began speaking in a quiet voice, the boys strained to hear each word.
“This looks like an ancient letter of some kind. It was deliberately hidden by someone in the hope that it would be found, and we have found it.”
“But we can’t read it,” interrupted Yaakov.
“I know, but I think I know someone who can. This is written in ancient Hebrew script. I can recognize a few of the letters. I have a friend who is an expert in this field. If everyone agrees to skip the rest of our trek today, we can go see him. He’s not too far away; he lives in Tzefas.”
The boys were excited and raced down the mountain trail, piled into the car and sang the whole way to Tzefas.
They came to an old house and Rabbi Siegel knocked on the door. A tall man with long peyos wearing thick glasses opened the door. Seeing Rabbi Siegel, he wrapped him in a friendly bear hug. They clapped each other on the back as Rabbi Siegel told the boys that they had been chavrusas (study partners) many years ago. Explaining why they had come, Rabbi Siegel carefully unrolled the scroll.
Rabbi Stern inspected it in amazement using a thick magnifying glass. “This appears to be a child’s writing and the parchment seems at first glance to be from the time of the Second Bais Hamikdash. The script is an old hebrew used by most of the people of that time.” He placed it on his desk and took out a piece of paper, writing in modern Hebrew script as he read the ancient parchment.
About twenty minutes later he looked up, pure joy on his face. “This is an amazing find! Can I keep this to examine and analyze it?”
“Of course,” answered Rabbi Siegel. He picked up Rabbi Stern’s copy and turned to the boys, his eyes alight. “Just listen to this:
I write these words knowing that I will soon be killed, and I pray that someone will find them and know what happened to me, Uriel ben Hyrkanos, and my chaverim in this school founded by the Kohain Gadol (High Priest), Rabbi Yehoshua ben Gamla, about 150 years ago. We have studied Torah together with our melamed (teacher) for six years and four months. Until the Romans issued their harsh decrees against Torah learning, we studied in a wonderful way. The Sanhedrin sent messages throughout the land that children should not endanger themselves, but we wanted our studies to continue no matter what the risk. The last few months we have had to meet secretly and in different places. To be found by the Romans meant certain death. Now we have been gathered together in this room, our beloved room, for two weeks. Our parents were taken away and we were warned not to return to our homes. Our food is gone, our bodies are weak, but still we learn Torah. The Romans are in our town, on our hill, near our school. We can hear their shouts, as they look for little children who cannot fight back, but whom they will kill for disobeying the Emperor’s cruel and senseless decree. How they hate us all for the simple reason that we are Hashem’s chosen people. But they can never destroy our Torah or our nation. I have seen men die in this terrible war. I am not afraid. We will learn up until our moment of death. Our melamed has taught us that Hashem loves the learning of young children — it is very sweet to Him. I fear that the Romans know this and that is why they continue to search for our schools, To destroy our learning would be to destroy our nation. The footsteps come closer, my hand is shaking from weakness, but our chanting becomes stronger. I am putting this in the pit I have prepared. A future person might read it and put it in his heart. Perhaps he can tell others about our struggles to keep Torah alive. They have surrounded our room. Shema Yisrael….
Rabbi Siegel looked up, his eyes glistening with tears. The mouth of each boy hung open. Eyes were wide, faces white, their minds back in that little room where Uriel and his classmates studied Torah until the Roman swords struck them dead.
Rabbi Siegel said, “Do you remember the other teaching we learned?
And the children of that time knew it!”
Three nights later, four boys were back in their own beds having shared the extraordinary story with their families, classmates and friends. As they slept, each had a dream. A boy named Uriel ben Hyrkanos stood outside an abandoned building, smiling. “I am happy now,” he said. “My letter has been found and its message has been spread. Thank you, my friends.”
May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)
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Tell it to your children, and let your children tell it to their children, and their children to the next generation. (Joel 1:3)
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Zadie’s Tisha b’Av Visit
Zadie was so special that when he entered a room the whole room was filled with a peaceful feeling. He made everything special and that’s why everyone loved and respected him. He came for a visit one year a few days before Tisha b’Av. There was a knock at the door and then Zadie came in, it was as though the sun had suddenly come out from behind the clouds. That was Zadie’s special smile. His beard seemed a little whiter, he walked slower, but looking at him made you feel so good.
We were the luckiest, because Zadie was staying in our home. I didn’t want to go to camp that summer—I didn’t want to miss a minute of Zadie’s visit. He told the most wonderful stories and spoke of secrets in the Torah. How proud I was to walk down the street with him.
It was erev Tisha b’Av, the first time I had to fast all day. When we went to shul, and sat down on the floor while listening to Megillas Eichah (Book of Lamentations), it was so sad that I really felt like crying. But then, I started feeling hungry, and was so ashamed of myself. So when we came home I went to sleep right away.
I woke up in the middle of the night and lay in bed, listening to a strange sound. It was someone crying. I put on a robe and, trembling, walked down the hall. The crying was coming from Zadie’s room. I tiptoed down the hall, knocked on his door and went in. He was sitting on the floor holding a sefer (book) on his lap and the pages were all wet from the tears streaming from his eyes.
I ran over and hugged him.
“Zadie, Zadie, what’s the matter?”
Zadie wiped his eyes and sighed. He gently pulled me down to the floor next to him. Putting his hand under my chin, he looked into my eyes.
“Mein ainickle mien tzaddikel (my grandson, my little holy one), I’m so sorry I woke you. It’s Tisha b’Av, you know, and I’m crying because of the destruction of our Bais Hamikdash. (Holy Temple)”
“But Zadie, aren’t things better already? After all, you’ve seen to Israel and many others Jewish people have gone there to live.”
“Please try to understand. No matter how comfortable the Jewish people are, something is missing because Hashem is still angry with us for our sins. If Jewish people all over the world—and in Israel, too—would do teshuvah (Repentance), say prayers from their hearts and give tzedakah (Charity) and do chesed (kindness), then the true geulah (redemption) would come soon. Meanwhile, we are in galus (exile) wherever we live. And it’s such a long, bitter galus. Do you understand mien zissele ainickle (my sweet grandson)? Now go back to sleep, and I’ll also go to sleep now. And do me a favour, please don’t tell anybody I woke you up. All right? I’m sorry.”
The next day, it was not hard for me to fast. I kept thinking about Zadie’s prayers, and his talk with me and I tried to pray better, too.
Shabbos Nachamu (“Sabbath of comfort/ing) came very soon. It was a very special a happy Shabbos! Zadie sat next to Taty at the head of the table, singing zemiros (Shabbos songs) loudly, as happy as I’ve ever seen him. I couldn’t understand it! He must have seen my confusion, because after “bentching” (Grace after meal), he took me out to the back porch and we sat on the top step together.
“Zadie, tell me. First you’re so happy, then so sad, then so happy.”
“Listen to me carefully my beloved grandson. Every day I say Ani Ma’amin (The Thirteen Principles of Jewish Belief) which begins Ani ma’amin be-emunah shelemah (“I believe with complete faith”) and it gives me strength to be happy. I know in my heart that Mashiach (Messiah) will come any day, but can I help crying on Tisha b’Av when we remember the destruction of the Bais Hamikdash and all the Jewish suffering thousands of years? Can I help crying for our Father in Heaven to have pity on us?
“But today, on Shabbos Nachamu. We read in the Haftorah how Hashem promises us that soon, very soon, our sins will all be forgiven and the Shechinah (Hashem’s Presence) will come back to our Holy Land. We have to believe that the galus will end soon, very soon—if we first prepare ourselves for it.
“It’s so true, I believe it with my whole heart. But remember, you have to prepare for it.”
Zadie has not been here for many years, but I hope I will never forget what he said as long as I live.
May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)
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Tell it to your children, and let your children tell it to their children, and their children to the next generation. (Joel 1:3)
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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Remember the Past – Hope for the Future
A very educated young man was walking down a path when he met Tam and Chacham. The young man heard them talking about the sad time leading up to Tisha b’Av. Everything he learned from his school and society made him see religious observance as old, outdated and silly. He decided to strike up a discussion and asked. “You are recognized as leaders and teachers of the Jewish community, so explain to me what is the use of all of this mourning and sadness between Shiva Asar b’Tammuz and Tisha B’Av? Couldn’t we do just as well without it?”
Chacham answered, “By remembering all the terrible things that happened during those three weeks throughout our long history, we hope for a better future.”
The young man countered, “what so terrible happened?”
Chacham continued, “During the three weeks:
Moshe Rabbeinu (Moses our Teacher) broke the tablets on which Hashem had written the Aseres haDibros (Ten Commandment) when he saw the Jewish people worshiping the Golden Calf.
During the Babylonian siege of Jerusalem, the Jewish people were forced to stop offering the daily sacrifices due to the lack of sheep.
Apostomos the evil Roman general burned the holy Torah in public
An idol was placed in the Holy Temple during the time of Antiochus, and.
The walls of Jerusalem were breached by the Babylonians and later by the Romans.
Tisha b’Av is a very sad day in Jewish history, for on this day:
The spies returned from the Promised Land with frightening reports, and the children of Israel had second thoughts about entering the land. G‑d decreed that they would therefore wander in the desert for 40 years. (Numbers 13-14)
Both Holy Temples in Jerusalem were destroyed on this date. The First Temple was burned by the Babylonians in 423 BCE and the Second Temple fell to the Romans in 70 CE unleashing a period of sorrow and suffering which is felt by the Jewish people to this very day.
The Bar Kochba revolt against the Romans in 135 CE ended in defeat: The Jews of Beitar were butchered on the 9th of Av and the Temple Mount was plowed one year later on the same date.
Later on in our history, many more tragedies happened on this day, including the beginning of the Crusades 1n 1095, the expulsion of the Jewish people from England in 1290 and the expulsion of all Jewish people from Spain.”
The young man laughed, “All that’s ancient history, today the world is much more enlightened and such things can never happen. All this sadness has led to a cultural depression among the Jewish people. Come on, let’s look at today and tomorrow and not live in yesterday.”
Chacham just starred at the young man in disbelief and then responded,
“On Pesach (Passover) we remember the wicked son who asks, ‘what is this service of yours?! He says of yours—implying that it is not for him. By excluding himself from the community…’ “
Tam seeing that Chacham was getting upset and a grin of satisfaction was spreading across the face of the young man began, “Let me try to answer your question in another way.
Once there was a fire that destroyed many homes. Some of the homeless people search the ruins to find things that may have escaped destruction. Others don’t bother looking! Those who look are the ones who expect to rebuild their homes. The others have probably given up and don’t even want to make the effort,
“Our mourning is the same way. We remind ourselves of the destruction of the Beis Hamikdosh (the Holy Temple) because we haven’t given up. We are looking forward to the coming of Moshiach (the Messiah).”
May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)
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A Song and a Shabbos Promise
Hinda Rivka was gathered up with the Jewish community of Czechowa and forced to make the journey to the a nearby labour camp. She knew full well that many who went on this journey never returned. She seemed to have an inner light that shined with peace and a resolve to remain strong in her faith. Only with such an mindset, she felt, could she maintain her religious lifestyle and cling ever closer to her Creator —her primary motivation in all she did.
Hinda Rivka’s dignity stood revealed from the moment she arrived at the camp. Every morning, she drank only a small portion of her allotted water and used the rest to wash her hands and say a blessing. She saved a measure of her daily bread to barter for a small siddur (prayerbook), from which she whispered her prayers to the Master of the Universe. She frequently shared her precious siddur to others so they too could pray.
The weeks before Pesach, Hinda Rivka and her friends began to save bits of potato and other vegetables, in order to be able to survive the festival without eating chametz. On Yom Kippur, they hid their bread rations until nightfall, but one of the Nazis heard that some girls were fasting and seized the reserved bread so that the girls were forced to fast not one, but two days.
Hinda Rivka was a simple girl with strong faith who steadfastly refused to work on Shabbos at any price. Though many of the other girls were taken out and killed for taking such a stand, her single-mindedness in this area was astonishing. She many times worked a double shift on weekdays instead.
When a truck came to transport inmates from place to place, and it appeared as though the trip would afford opportunity for escape, Hinda Rivka refused to go as it involved traveling on Shabbos. She remained behind in the camp. In her heart, she clung to the promise that had been made to her by the holy Piltzer Rebbe (Chanoch Gad Yustman) a promise that she would be saved in the merit of her Shabbos observance.
She worked in a munitions factory. It was hard backbreaking labour. Throughout the long hours of work, Hinda Rivka would in her pleasant voice sing a Yiddish song entitled “G-tt un Zein Mishpot Is Gerecht” (G-d Is Correct in His Judgment) The chorus of this song may be translated as follows: “G-d, Your decrees are just. The Creator knows what He is doing. No one is punished for naught.”
Her rescue from the Holocaust came about as a result of her Shabbos observance: The death transports were carried out on Shabbos, the day on which Hinda Rivka did not work. The lights from her Shabbos candles and sacrifices burned bright.
She left war torn Poland and went to Jerusalem where she lived for a number of years. As she lay on her deathbed, she called the chevra kaddisha and lifted her hands and sang and sang, “G-tt un Zein Mishpot Is Gerecht” (G-d Is Correct in His Judgment) and then said out loud Shema Yisrael Hashem Elokeinu Hashem Echad.
A Gut’n Shabbos mit brochah und Shalom
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(A Good Shabbos with Blessings and Peace)
May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)
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ST2 The Rich Man, His Gold and Hope
The Oak Tree
There lived in a village a mother and a son who were very devoted to one another who lived in a house beside a great oak tree.
Once they had been very wealthy and had many friends. After the father had died suddenly after lightning struck their house the mother was bedridden and their home was badly damaged by fire, they lost most of their wealth. From the little that was salvaged from the fire was spent on doctors in the hope of curing the poor, stricken woman. Her only comfort was her son, Yosef, who was a fine young man. Yosef was a very intelligent and religious boy, and he loved and cared for his mother.
His mother would frequently ask: “Why don’t you go to town and get a good job? You know our small farm demands much hard work with little return.”
Yosef answered: “Who will take care of you, my dear mother? We can manage alright. When you regain your health, b’ezras Hashem (G-d willing), we’ll move to town.”
Yosef had attended yeshiva (Jewish school) until his father’s death, but then he had to take care of the farm and his mother. He missed the school and learning very much. In the evening when he came in from the field, he would take out a holy book and forget the days hardship. He’d sit by his mother’s bed and begin learning in his sweet, soothing voice and the whole room would change. It became so peaceful that his mother would be filled with a sensation of happiness and tranquility. She would then fall asleep with an expression of serenity and contentment.
Yosef’s this nightly study was a sacred custom, and after his lesson was over, he would take out the Book of Psalms and recite many chapters. Many a tear did he shed, for he could not get over his grief, the loss of his father and his mother’s illness. Working the farm and worry for his mother weighed heavily upon his young heart, but reciting the Psalms always helped him regain his cheerful spirit.
One day, Yosef received gift from his uncle, an old and rare edition of the Book of Psalms which he had bought from a peddler. Yosef marveled at its old script written on parchment, which was well preserved and quite legible.
Yosef carefully turned its pages, and when he came to the back cover, his eye caught some writing, dim with age. The lettering was very small and blurred in places, as if some drops of water had fallen on it. The writer must have wept when he wrote that mysterious inscription. Yosef took his father’s magnifying glass, and began to study the writing. It took him some time to piece the first sentence together, which read something like this:
“To you, happy reader of the sacred Psalms, this message will unfold a tale of horror, but if you read it to the end, you shall have your reward well earned…”
Yosef became quite fascinated by this writing, and with the magnifying glass in one hand, he labored hard to decipher the message from beginning to end. By the time he pieced the whole message together dawn was breaking. Yosef was pale and shaky, for he had read a tale of fear and terror.
It was the story of the once flourishing Jewish community of the nearby town, driven into the forest by the cruel and bloodthirsty mob, who only wanted their lives and wealth. The poor, frightened, defenseless men, women and children could not escape the savage mob. They gathered up their gold and silver and precious stones and hid them in a big chest which they buried. The terrible mob surrounded the Jewish community and cries of “Hear O Israel, the L-rd is our G‑d, the L-rd is one!” The writer, the son of the scribe of the community, was left for dead with a gushing wound in his head, but regained consciousness and recovered only long enough to record this tale of horror.
After he finished reading the story written so long ago, Yosef suddenly realized that there was some hidden treasure in the vicinity. It was buried at the foot of a young oak tree, some two hundred yards from a brook in the woods. The woods were long gone, but a brook flowed through the center of the village. Outside their house grew an ancient oak tree.
Yosef decided that after some sleep, he would ask the oldest villager if he knew anything about what he has read.
Old Petru said, yes, there had been a forest by the village once. It was avoided by the villagers who claimed it was haunted on account of the massacre of the Jewish community that happened there.
The sky began to grow dark and the wind started to blow strong as Yosef bade old Petru farewell. He arrived home just as the storm grew strong. His mother had been terrified, for the sound of thunder revived in her mind that horrible day when she lost her husband and became bedridden.
Yosef calmed his mother. He forgot about story he read the night before, about old Petru, and about the treasure. The house shook with thunder and lightning. Yosef calmly read the Psalms in his calm, soothing and enchanting voice.
Suddenly there was roar of thunder and the ground shook, Yosef and his mother found themselves on the floor greatly shaken. Yosef rose quickly and wanted to rush to his mother’s aid, but stared in amazement as he saw her rise and run to the window, “Look, the oak tree!”
Yosef was crying with joy when he saw that his mother had miraculously recovered and was walking unsupported as if she had never been paralyzed before. Only then did his mother realize too and the two embraced, murmuring thanks to G‑d.
“Go out and see whether any damage was done by that fallen oak tree,” his mother said.
Yosef went outside and immediately rushed in reporting breathlessly, “The huge oak tree was uprooted and split in two. The fallen tree left a huge crater in the earth. And there, lay an ancient chest with its lid torn off. Coins, silver candlesticks, golden necklaces and other precious treasures lay scattered all round.”
Yosef and his mother became very wealthy. They distributed the greater part of the treasure to charities and still had many precious things left. Of all the treasures, the most precious to Yosef was his ancient Book of Psalms. His mother’s greatest treasure was Yosef.
May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)
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Tell it to your children, and let your children tell it to their children, and their children to the next generation. (Joel 1:3)
Please share this story with family and friends and let us know what you think or feel about the stories in a comment or two. Like us on Facebook or tweet us on Twitter
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ST1 The King and the Storm
a short story of friendship and faith – The King and the Storm – What is a friend? This is a lesson learned by a king during a hunting trip with his “friends.”
A tale based on the Scripture, “He who loves purity of heart, and grace is on his lips, the king shall be his friend” (Proverbs:22:11)
The Story Tour podcast is now available on ITunes at https://itunes.apple.com/us/podcast/story-tour/id1406607471
Tales of the Storyteller Lessons
So many times people read and listen to stories and wonder how to use them to teach. These easy story lessons allows the listener to explore them at length.
Storytelling is an ancient art. The storyteller’s stories passed down lessons of faith, history and language from one generation to another. In more recent times, stories have proved valuable in teaching morality and problem solving to children. The stories convey hopeful messages, create positive physical changes within the body, and relax the listener.
The mystery, magic and excitement of stories of faith can bring the classroom alive as they stimulate students and encourage critical thinking skills. Jewish stories can better explain holidays, ethics, history and the Jewish lifecycle while creating an atmosphere to strengthen Jewish identity.
There is a rich history of Jewish stories and folktales that suggests that stories are a powerful method to transmit, store, and access values. When a story is told, the story’s context gives the value a reality that isn’t communicated without a clear example. Stories, however, are remembered much more than information or statements. They take on a life of their own in a student’s memory. Students may often find within stories ways to address issues in their personal lives. A story also gives a teacher a simple way to reference a story. It is fairly hard to ask a student, “Don’t you remember the when we learned about “Gamilut Chasadim”? A Hebrew term and a new idea are not likely to remain active long in the memory when is not reinforced. On the other hand, if the teacher should ask, “Remember the story about the rabbi who fixed the flawed stone?” is much more likely to be remembered and retained.
Each of the Jewish Tales of the Storyteller lessons allows students develop an appreciation for Jewish values through hearing stories and “finding its meaning.” A series of short Jewish texts allows students to explore the nuances of uniquely Jewish insights into its application. The values remain with the listener giving them the tools to address situation or conflicts they may experience at a later time. This in turn will allow later experiences to become insightful and heartfelt learning opportunities.
Visit the Tales of the Storyteller Page
The Sultan and King David
One night the Turkish sultan disguised himself as a merchant and walked about his capital city. When he entered the Jewish quarter, he heard loud singing. As he went closer, he saw that the people were dancing in a great circle. He heard the words of a song, “Dovid Melech Yisrael; Chai, Chai, V’kayam” and asked about the song and was told that the words were “David, king of Israel, lives and endures. (Rosh Hashanah 25a)”
When the sultan heard this, it confirmed his suspicions that the Jewish people were not loyal to him, but to their own king.
The next day the sultan demanded that a holy rabbi who was one of the leaders of the community to answer for the disloyalty of the Jewish community. The rabbi insisted that King David had died long ago, but the sultan would not listen. He demanded that the holy rabbi bring him a gift that could come only from King David. If the rabbi did not, he would banish all the Jewish people and destroy their property throughout his kingdom.
The holy rabbi was very afraid of the treat made by the sultan against the Jewish people. He knew that he had to prepare himself to ask for guidance from heaven. It was clear that only a miracle could make it possible for him to fulfill the king’s command. So he fasted for three days, immersed himself in the mikveh seven times, and prayed with all his heart. Finally he heard a heavenly voice announce that he must travel to the city of Luz in the Holy Land. There he would find King David, who, in truth, was still alive. So too did the heavenly voice reveal the holy name that would make it possible for him to go there.
Now the way to the city of Luz is one of the most closely guarded secrets. The histories of the city, reaching back to the very beginng, are filled with every detail of learning and life. Yet these same histories, though complete, do not record a single death, nor a single flood or fire. All who live inside its walls have never known death, the Angel of Death is powerless and can do them no harm.
Now that heaven had opened a path for him, the holy rabbi set out on his journey. He pronounced the holy name that had been revealed to him, and in a single breath he found himself inside the walls of that city. There he saw an old, old man, far older than any he had ever seen before. He asked the old man if King David could be found there. And the old man said: “No. King David lives in a cave out in the desert, near a spring. Once a year a flock of birds fly in that direction, and today is the day they will arrive here. Follow the birds to the spring, and immerse yourself in the waters before you enter the cave.”
The holy rabbi thanked the old man and left the city. Just as he stepped outside the gates of the ancient city of Luz, he heard a rumble like thunder as thousands of birds filled the sky. Once more he pronounced the holy name that had brought him to that place, and he found himself flying as fast as that flock to the spring the old man had spoken of, with the cave nearby.
The holy rabbi immersed himself in that spring and then entered the cave. There he saw King David reclining on a couch. Above him hung his harp and on a stand sat his crown of the kingdom. King David welcomed him, for he too had heard a heavenly voice announcing the rabbi’s visit. He knew of the danger facing the Jewish people of Turkey.
King David brought forth two pitchers of water and gave them to The holy rabbi. He told him to wash his hands in the waters of the first pitcher. And the instant the waters touched the rabbi’s hands, his skin grew white as snow, as happens with leprosy. The rabbi was very frightened, but King David told him not to worry, just to pour the water of the other pitcher over his hands. And as soon as he did this, The holy rabbi’s skin was restored to its healthy state. Then King David said: “Now that you know the power of the waters in these pitchers, take them to the sultan. He will understand that this gift could come from no one but me. For the waters of the first pitcher are from Gehenna, and those of the second are from the Garden of Eden.”
When The holy rabbi took his leave of King David, he pronounced the holy name for the third and final time. And in an instant he found himself back in the land of Turkey, before the palace of the sultan. There he was granted an audience, and he gave the sultan the two pitchers that he had received from King David.
The sultan wanted to know what was so precious about the water in those pitchers. The holy rabbi suggested that the sultan pour the water from the first over his hands. When the sultan did, his skin turned leprous and the sultan was horrified. He knew that if anyone found out, his reign would be over. People would see the disease as a a sign that he was no longer fit to rule. The sultan pleaded with the holy rabbi to cure him. The rabbi assured him that he would cure him if he promised not to harm the Jewish people of Turkey in any way. The sultan quickly vowed to do so, and the rabbi told him to wash his hands in the water of the second pitcher. And as soon as the sultan did, he recovered. Then the sultan knew that none could have sent him those enchanted waters but King David himself, and never again did he threaten the Jewish people of his kingdom.
May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)
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Tell it to your children, and let your children tell it to their children, and their children to the next generation. (Joel 1:3)