A bookbinder’s love for books made a difference in this world and the next as was discovered by the holy and saintly Rebbe, Elimelech of Lizensk. Once he became very seriously ill and fell into a deep state of unconsciousness. His close disciples gathered at his bedside and prayed fervently that the “Healer of all Flesh Who Works Wondrously” send a speedy and complete recovery to their beloved Rebbe. The Almighty heard their heartfelt prayers. The holy rabbi opened his eyes, smiled, and said he felt much better. Before long he recovered completely.
The disciples were most happy and grateful to Hashem for having spared their Rebbe and given him many more years to continue his holy work, and to guide them and teach them. To them it had seemed that for a while, during those critical moments when the Rebbe was so deeply unconscious, his soul must have been hovering between heaven and earth, and they feared that if it entered Heaven, it might not wish to return to earth. They were now eager to know what happened to their Rebbe during those fateful moments. They waited for a suitable opportunity to ask their Rebbe about it.
Some time later, when the Rebbe was seated at his table, surrounded by his close disciples and followers, in a happy get-together and thanksgiving to Hashem, one of the senior disciples asked the Rebbe whether he could tell what happened to him while his soul was in Heaven.
The Rebbe replied that he could not tell them everything, since it is not important for them to know everything. But one thing he would tell them, for it was well to think about. This is what he told them:
“As I was walking in Gan Eden, where the souls of the righteous were enjoying the nearness of the Shechinah (Divine Presence), I saw among them, in an honored place, a familiar face. He looked very much like Mottel the Bookbinder. But what would he be doing there? I thought. For one thing, I had not heard that he had departed from the living on earth. Furthermore, if he did, how come he is sitting in such a high place? To be sure, Mottel was a G-dfearing Jewish man, an honest hard-working bookbinder, but he was otherwise an undistinguished, ordinary person, not much of a Torah scholar.
“So, I went up to him and asked him, `Are you really Mottel the Bookbinder from my town?’
“`Holy Rebbe,’ answered the bookbinder, `excuse me, but before we proceed, may I say that here I am called Reb Mordechai, and not just plain Mottel.’
“If so,” I replied, “what happened to your modesty, my dear Reb Mordechai?”
“`Rebbe, here we are in the World of Truth; here modesty has no place; here only Truth is the rule, and the truth is that the Heavenly Court has decreed that I should be called Reb Mordechai,’ replied the bookbinder simply.
“Said I, `I am delighted, Reb Mordechai, that you have earned this honor. But tell me, in what merit did you achieve this honored title and, moreover, what worthy deed has won you such an honored place in Gan Eden? Perhaps it will provide a lesson to be followed by my disciples, all those who wish to better themselves?
“`This I will gladly do,’ the bookbinder replied. `When the Rebbe became ill, I, too, became ill. But I did not recover. I was brought before the Heavenly Court, and the usual questioning began.
“`Did you study Torah?’
“`I had to admit that, regrettably, very little. I didn’t have much of a head for Torah study. Besides, we were very poor, so I had to find a way of earning money to help my parents support the family. I was apprenticed, at an early age, to a bookbinder to learn the trade….
“`Then began the weighing of my mitzvos and sins. On the right side of the scale, angels began putting all my mitzvos and good deeds. Then they pushed the scale down to make it weightier, saying this was for the joy and sincerity with which I per-formed the mitzvos. So far so good. But then other angels came forward and began to load my sins and misdeeds on the left scale. I watched with horror how my sins were adding up, threatening to outweigh my mitzvos. Most of the sins were truly not serious, and they happened because of my ignorance; but nevertheless, small though they were, they were adding up dangerously, till they tipped the scale! As I stood there before the Heavenly Court, trembling and ashamed, two angry looking angels stepped forward, one on each side of me, ready to carry me off to the place where sinful souls are sent to be cleansed and purified…
“`Suddenly an angel appeared with a well-used siddur in his hand. Behind him was a line of wagons loaded with sacks. The angel asked permission to speak up on behalf of a dear soul that was on trial. The angel began:
“`I am the angel in charge of holy sheimos (stray pages from holy books, especially with G-d’s Name in them). I go to every Jewish home, and in every shul, yeshivah and talmud torah. I look to see in what condition are the holy books: siddurim, chumashim, tehillims, mishnayos, gemaras, and the like. Whenever I see an over-used book, with crumpled pages and loose covers—it gives me pleasure, for this is the best evidence that the holy books are in constant use, not just kept on shelves, but actually used every day by Jewish people, young and old, praying three times daily and studying Torah. But when I see some of these books tattered beyond repair, I feel troubled, for every holy book has a holy soul, and every page has a soul, and must be treated with care and respect.
“‘Now, in the course of my travels I met this man that is here on trial and grew to know him very well. Ever since his early childhood, even before he mastered the alphabet, Mottele loved his little siddur, and would often fondle it and kiss it before closing it. When he saw a creased page, he would smooth it out gently.
“`After his Bar Mitzvah, when it became necessary for Mottel to learn a trade, his father asked him what he would like to do for a living. Mottel replied without hesitation—he would like to be a bookbinder.
I must tell you, the angel in charge of sheimos continued, that ever since people began printing and binding books, I have never seen a bookbinder like Mottel. He was the most dedicated and perfect bookbinder I ever saw. He never got any pages mixed up, he never missed a stitch, he always used the best material available—and he did all this, not only because he was an honest man, but also because he loved books, especially holy books. This is why he would, from time to time, go to the houses of prayer in his town and collect siddurim and chumashim, and other holy books that cried out for attention. He would take them home and work late into the night to restore them and bind them and give them new life. Then he would take them back to where they belonged, without charge for his time and trouble. He never bragged about it, never even mentioned it—for him it was a labor of love, a real mitzvah.
“`I respectfully request the Heavenly Court to permit me to unload all the sacks of holy sheimos and over-used books, to which Mottel the Bookbinder had given a second life, and I will put them on the scale with all his other mitzvos and good deeds.’
Here the Rebbe Elimelech paused for a moment, then continued the Bookbinder’s story:
“`The Heavenly Court agreed and ordered two angels to assist the sheimos supervisor to unload the contents of the sacks. And long before half of this job was done, the scale with the mitzvos clearly outweighed the other side.
“Believe me, dear Rebbe, the bookbinder concluded, I was as astonished at what had happened before my eyes as you were when you saw me here. I was even more surprised when the Heavenly Court decreed to give me an honored place in Gan Eden and that I should be called henceforth: Reb Mordechai.”‘
The Rebbe Elimelech paused again, and said:
“Well, now you have heard the Bookbinder’s story. As a matter of fact, I wanted to ask him a few other questions, but at this very moment—I woke up!
“As for what we must learn from Reb Mordechai the Bookbinder,” the Rebbe concluded, “the lesson speaks for itself. Let us also remember that Hashem never fails to give credit and reward for any good deed, even for such a seemingly trivial act as smoothing out a crumpled corner of a well-worn page in a holy book.”
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)
