A Freilechen Purim Stories

Posted on Sunday, 8, March, 2020Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

Story Tour shares special Purim stories for all to enjoy and share with others. The threat of violence and a sense of foreboding has led many to prayer and the unseen hand of the Holy One, blessed be He brought hope and peace as heartfelt prayers were said.

A Maggid and Purim – Megillah, maggidim (spiritual storytellers) and the king’s sleepless night. The king could simply have a maggid to tell a bedtime story.

Purim: A Time of Joy – Purim is a Jewish holiday of deliverance from death which served as an inspiration in the ghettos, death camps and forests of nazi Europe and a spark of hope.

Another Purim? – For many Jewish families of Spanish descent, there is a special holiday called Purim Saragossa based on a 15th century event that even fewer people know about.

Purim by the Clock – The day of Purim..the clock showed him that the hands on the clock’s face stood at the same position, the very moment when the king was carried away.

100 Barrels of Wine or the World to Come

Posted on Thursday, 5, March, 2020Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

The holy rabbi once gathered a select group of his students and told them: “Come, I will show you someone who sincerely and wholeheartedly welcomes guests into his home.”

The horses and carriage were prepared for the journey. The wheels of the wagon flew through fields and forests as well as mountains and valleys. Late in the afternoon, the wagon came to a halt in front of an inn.

There was a small inn tucked away in a small village whose manager was a pious man. Every day he would pray:

As the carriage of the holy rabbi and his students came near the inn the innkeeper ran to meet them, and respectfully bowed saying: “Holy rabbi, if I find favor with you, do not pass by my humble inn. Baruch Hashem (Praised be G-d), that I have the opportunity to serve you and your students.”

The innkeeper went over to the travelers and invited them into his home. “Come, dear rabbis, come into my home. You can rest up and eat something. You will refresh yourselves, and at the same time bring life to me and a blessing upon my house. It’s not every day that I am so fortunate to do the mitzvah of hachnosas orchim [welcoming guests]”

The holy rabbi thought for a moment and answered: “Maybe it would be better that we continue on our way to the nearby city. There we will be able to pray with the congregation and hear the Torah reading.”

“Oh, but I have a Torah scroll right here; and together with all of you, we will also have a minyan [quorum of 10] to pray,” the innkeeper said, entreating them to remain. He added that if they would like to pray in the city on Shabbos, they could walk there, because it was within the permissible area one is allowed to walk on Shabbos.

In the end, the holy rabbi agreed to the request of the innkeeper, and the travelers became his guests.

While the innkeeper lived modestly, he offered his guests his best rooms and did everything he could to make their stay comfortable. After they had prayed, he invited them to a table set with delicious food. He himself stood by to serve them.

On Shabbos morning, they all walked to the nearby city to pray. After Shabbos, the innkeeper prepared a lavish melaveh malkah feast (meal after the conclusion of the Sabbath day), and even invited many more guests from the area. He radiated joy as he greeted his guests and bustled around making sure everyone was cared for.

The holy rabbi and his students spent a few more days with the villager, who took care of all their needs personally and did everything in his power to make sure they felt at home.

Before leaving, the holy rabbi asked their host if he had any special requests.

“My only request is that you pray for me that I merit life in the World to Come,” the innkeeper answered.

“The thing you ask for is dependent upon you,” the holy rabbi responded. “But if you want me to bless you, you must come to me in my city on market day. Allow me to give you some sound advice. There is a shortage of wine in my city, when you come, it would be worthwhile to bring with you 100 barrels of wine of the best kind, so that you can earn a nice profit.”

Some time passed, and the students all but forgot about the innkeeper. One day, the holy rabbi instructed his students, “Today a group of poor people came to our town. Please go and tell them that I am inviting them to my Shabbos meal.”

The students were very surprised to hear this. The local custom was that poor people and passing guests who came to town had all their needs met by the local committee in charge of accommodating wayfarers, who arranged meals and sleeping accommodations. What had changed that the holy rabbi was personally inviting this group to his house.

When the poor people were seated around the table, the holy rabbi turned to one of them and invited him to come sit next to him.

“Do you recognize me?” the holy rabbi asked.

“Yes,” the poor man answered. “I had the merit to host the holy rabbi and his students in my inn.”

The students sitting around the table suddenly paid attention.

“Tell us what happened to you since then,” the holy rabbi continued.

The innkeeper told the following tale:

“When the holy rabbi told me to come to him in his city and bring 100 barrels of the best wine, I firmly believed in the words of the holy rabbi, and set out to do this. I sold everything I possessed, and bought 100 barrels of wine. Then I set out on my way. Toward evening, as we passed through a forest, a big storm broke out and torrents of rain fell.”

“The path was totally flooded with water, and the wagons were unable to move forward. I got off the wagon and, leaving the merchandise with the wagon drivers, I started searching for a house or inn in which to spend the night.”

“After a time, I noticed a small light far ahead in the darkness. I went toward the light. Soon I reached a house in the forest. An old man with a flowing beard greeted me at the door. He invited me in. The house was warm and the old man treated me kindly until I warmed up. In the morning, after I said the morning prayers, I parted from the old man and went back to where I had left my wagons. However, there was no trace of them. It was as if they had vanished into thin air.”

“At first I was very upset and depressed. However, then I began to think that I don’t have any reason to be upset. ‘the L-rd gave, and the L-rd has taken away; blessed be the name of the L-rd.’ (Job 1:21.) Surely it is all for the good, I decided. I began to walk, and then came upon a group of poor people traveling this way. I traveled with them until I came to this city.”

The poor man finished his story, and all eyes now focused on the holy rabbi.

“Do you regret that you asked me to be blessed with life in the world to come? Perhaps you would prefer to get all your lost wealth back?” the holy rabbi asked the innkeeper.

“Heaven forbid!” the innkeeper replied without hesitating. “Is the holy rabbi suggesting that I give up my share in the world to come in exchange for 100 barrels of wine? Absolutely not. I am prepared to remain a poor person all my life, traveling from place to place, if only I can merit life in the World to Come!”

“Indeed that is what I wanted to hear from you,” the holy rabbi said. “A person needs to be ready to give up everything for faith in the Holy One, blessed be He. You accomplished this, and therefore you will merit life in the World to Come.”

A smile of pure happiness spread across the poor innkeeper’s face.

The holy rabbi continued: “You are thinking that now you will have to wander with your friends for a long time. Well, that is not the case. With the help of Heaven, tomorrow the wagons with the wine that you lost in the forest will arrive here. You will sell them for a nice profit, and you will once again be able to guests as before.”

Sure enough, the next day, the wagons arrived as the holy rabbi had said. The villager became wealthy, and continued to host guests in a generous fashion.

You ask, “Who was the holy rabbi?” Maybe one of the Lamed Vov Tzadikim (36 Righteous people who bless and guide the world.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

Click here for more storytelling resources

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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Fifty Year Old Honey

Posted on Tuesday, 3, March, 2020Wednesday, 30, August, 2023 by Rabbi

Less than a week after the tzaddik Rabbi Levi Yitzchak moved to Berditchev to serve as chief rabbi, three men knocked on his door to ask him to decide a question of Halachah (Jewish law). It would be his very first case as a rabbinical judge in his new position.

A wealthy merchant from the nearby town of Hemelnick had brought several barrels filled with honey to sell at the big fair in Berditchev. Unfortunately, just then, the price of honey dropped sharply. Not wanting to suffer a loss on his investment, he asked a friend to store the honey for him until the price rose again.

The two were old friends, and the local man was happy to help his friend. Knowing each other to be completely honest, they didn’t write down anything of their arrangement or call in witnesses.

Time went by. The price of honey remained low, so the barrels remained in the Berditchev cellar, untouched.

More time went by. The man on whose property the honey was stored became sick and passed away. Everything happened so quickly, he never had a chance to explain to his family anything about the state of his affairs.

More time passed. The price of honey finally began to climb. When the increase became significant, the owner of the barrels showed up at his deceased friend’s house to claim his honey from the sons who had taken over their father’s business. They, however, having heard nothing about it from their father, refused to honor the merchant’s claim. After some discussion, they decided to proceed to the beis din (rabbinical court) to present the case before the new rabbi.

Rabbi Levi Yitzchak listened carefully, even though the law in such a case was clear. Of course he would have to rule against the out-of-town merchant. Even if there had been witnesses or a signed document, Torah law stipulates that no claims against “orphans” (i.e., heirs who are disadvantaged by the fact that they have no way of knowing what transpired between the deceased and their litigant) can be collected without first swearing an oath as to the validity of one’s claim; and here there were neither document nor witnesses.

Nevertheless, Rabbi Levi Yitzchak hesitated to pronounce his verdict and finalize the case. Two nagging thoughts disturbed him. Why, in his first days in his new position, did the G-d arrange for his first religious decision to be something so straightforward and clear-cut, with no room to budge left or right to attempt any sort of compromise?

The other thought that made him uncomfortable was: Why did G-d arrange it so that his very first ruling in this town would be considered bizarre by the entire populace? After all, the merchant from Hemelnick was well-known to everyone as a scrupulously honest man, as someone who was already wealthy and as such immune to monetary pressures, and as far from theft as east is from west. Furthermore, everyone knew that the merchant and the deceased were old friends who trusted each other implicitly, never resorting to documents or witnesses in their transactions. Surely, the entire town would be paying attention to the first ruling handed down by their new rabbi. Everyone was sure to wonder: Why should the law of the Torah be so opposite to common sense? “

He couldn’t bring himself to issue the verdict just yet. The contradiction between the natural sense of what was right and the law of the Torah was too great. Even though the claimant and defendants anxiously awaited his word, he asked them to excuse him for a few more minutes. Turning aside to a corner of the room, he poured forth in silent prayer his frustration, beseeching G-d to enlighten him with understanding.

Suddenly, the owner of the honey jumped off his seat as if struck by a bolt of lightning, and exclaimed: “I remember! I remember!” So struck was he by his recollection, and so convinced of its importance and relevance, he didn’t hesitate to interrupt the Rabbi, who was standing in the corner, absorbed in his personal prayer.

“Honored Rabbi, please forgive me,” he called out excitedly. “While waiting here I had the most amazing realization! An old memory, which I haven’t thought about in many years, just flashed through my mind. Rescued from oblivion! I’m talking about something that happened fifty years ago, when I was just a young lad.

“Our father died suddenly, leaving us a large inheritance. Included in this was a storage room filled with casks of wine and oil.

“One day, the father of these two young men — may his rest be peaceful — came to our home in Hemelnick. He claimed that the wine and oil were his — that he had stored it with our father for safekeeping. My brothers and I were still quite young then, and had never been involved in any of our father’s business affairs. We had no idea what we were supposed to do, but were reluctant to give up the merchandise just like that.

“We all went to the rabbi of the town and presented our case. He ruled in our favor, explaining that nothing can be taken from the inheritance of orphans without absolute proof and an oath. The wine and oil remained in our possession. After a while, we sold the entire lot for a good price.

“What I just realized is that the money we received for that wine and oil is exactly equal to the value of my honey, which is now in the possession of the sons of my departed friend!”

With his apt comparison of the two parallel events fifty years apart, the merchant had conceded his own present case. For the same reason that, as an orphan, he was entitled to keep the wine and oil that long time ago, he had to relinquish his claim on these orphans for his honey today.

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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Part II The Right Approach – Finding the Solution

Posted on Thursday, 27, February, 2020Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

That night Akiva could hardly sleep. His mother came in to check on him several times and said, “Akiva, now stop with that contest. You know we have much work to do. You have not been taking care of your chores, and you know I can’t do everything by myself. Now go to sleep Akiva.”

When Akiva’s mother came to wake him the next morning, she found his bed empty. Akiva had left for the town square at the crack of dawn, not wanting to waste a minute of the contest’s final day.

“No harm in letting him try. He’ll soon learn that troubles and disappointment are a usual part of life,” she thought to herself with a sigh.

Akiva had more determination that day than anyone in the crowd. He stood there, hour after hour, gathering the courage for the moment when he would step forward and become one of the many who tried. He was sure he was to become the one who succeeded.

When there was only about an hour left in the day, Akiva realized that it was now or never. So many people had tried, and many had been badly hurt. He waited until one of the opponents had been cleared away from the floor badly bruised, and summoned up his courage.

He stepped forward, knowing with great confidence that his plan was very different than any other scheme he had watched for days now. Akiva smiled confidently and thought to himself,” No one has tried this yet. It has to be the answer.”

A hush came over the crowd. No one talked as they watched a boy, barely as high as the waist of the bodyguard, walk ever so slowly towards the bottle. The bodyguard himself, who had seen so many schemes in the past few day, stood there confused.

Remembering his obligation, the bodyguard stiffened, his muscles clenched like steel. He saw many tricks throughout each days and knew this too could be a scheme. He watched the boy with a piercing stare, until ten yards apart, the giant and the boy locked eyes.

Deep down inside, Akiva was shaking and shivering. But he was determined, and calmly returned a wide-eyed stare in the direction of the bodyguard. The townspeople watched with bated breath as Akiva continued walking slowly, until he stood in the long, wide shadow of the bodyguard.

It seemed as if the bodyguard himself let his guard down. He almost relaxed in the presence of the boy. The boy obviously had no weapons, or knives, no plots or schemes. The bodyguard looked over his opponent very carefully and decided that the boy was not even going to attack him.

Akiva knew it was his moment. He cleared his throat and began to speak to the bodyguard. The crowd inched forward, intent upon hearing what was being said. The bodyguard himself bent down to the boy so that he could hear.

Words tumbled off Akiva’s lips, “Dear Sir, I’m very afraid of you. I’ve stood here for a few days now watching you, and I would not dream of attacking you. I’m too scared. Please don’t hurt me. I’m not going to throw anything at you, and I have no weapons up my sleeve. All I would like to say is that my mother and I live alone in a very small house. The roof leaks when it rains, and we usually can’t afford firewood. It’s just the two of us, and she has to work day and night for us to afford food. I know that the gem that is inside of the container is more valuable than anything I’ve ever seen in my life. I could use it to support my mother and me, so we wouldn’t have to struggle anymore. My mother works much too hard, and she deserves a warm house and a few pretty things. And therefore, I would like to ask you, with all of my heart, could you please . . . .”

A tear ran down his cheek, and he started his sentence again, “Could you please open up the jug and reach inside? You are the only one in the kingdom who could open it. Could you please open up the jug, reach inside, take out the gem and please give it to me?”

A long, long silence followed, as the stunned crowd took in the boy’s request. People began to shout, “That is ridiculous. It’s preposterous. So many brave people have stepped forward, tried so many intelligent schemes, so many noble acts of courage; and now a young boy comes up to the bodyguard and says, Please can you open up the jug?’ That’s absurd!”

But a strange thing began to happen as a side of the man of steel revealed itself. Tears–at first only a few but then more and more–came rolling down his cheeks and fell onto his armor.

He kneeled down, took the young boy in his hands and kissed him on the forehead. Then he took the boy’s hand into his own, and the two of them walked together towards the jug. All of the people of the town watched spellbound as the great, strong bodyguard of the king took the jug in his hands and began to twist with all of his might.

Moments later, the lid came off of the jug. The bodyguard reached deep inside the container and pulled out the most spectacular gem that anyone had ever seen. With a smile of satisfaction, he put the gem inside of the boy’s hand.

So many people approach everyday challenges with plans, schemes, tricks and raw force. They look for complicated solutions when in truth the answer is quite simple. Just communicating with another can change the situation. Sometimes the best way to get what one needs is to stand before the Holy One, blessed be He and sincerely ask — not fight, not scheme, not plan, but just ask for your needs from your heart. Believe it or not, as mystical and impossible as it seems, the Holy One Blessed be He hears the sincere words of prayer; and they penetrate the highest of places and He listens. All you have to do is ask with all of your heart.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

Click here for more storytelling resources

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

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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Part I The Right Approach – A Challenge

Posted on Tuesday, 25, February, 2020Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

Part II will be posted on Thursday, 27 February

A huge crowd had gathered in the town square. People were everywhere, cheering, screaming, and clapping. Akiva approached the crowd and wondered what could possibly be at the center of such a huge spectacle. So many people had gathered. Bit by bit, Akiva started to push his way through the growing crowd.

“Whatever’s going on in there must sure be interesting,” thought Akiva. “There are so many people here. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

As Akiva made his way through the crowd, the cheering became louder and louder. The louder the cheering became, the more determined Akiva was to get to the center. Finally, after much squeezing and crawling, he made his way to the front row.

At first glance he did not understand what it was he was seeing. At the center of the crowd was a huge, huge man – the strongest man Akiva had ever seen in his life.

Right behind the man was a strange looking bottle with a strange kind of lid on it. The bottle was surrounded by a circle of mats and carpets. Whatever it was, it certainly looked very valuable.

As Akiva stood there fascinated, a young man stepped out from the crowd and started to walk towards the bottle. The very strong man stood with his arms folded squarely across his chest. He stared unblinkingly at the young man who was approaching.

The air was thick with the tension between them. Neither one dared to break the vicious stare. Akiva was certain that a fight was about to break out. He was not dismayed. Neither were the hundreds of onlookers. They were about to find out that yet another contest would take place.

The young man came forward and began to run right towards the bottle. In a matter of seconds, the huge, strong man lifted him up, almost as if he were a light bale of hay, and threw him twenty feet away from the bottle. The man picked himself up again towards the bottle, trying to grab it. Laughingly, the huge strong man picked him up once more and threw him even further this time around. All the people watching, cheered loudly. He was truly a strong man.

Akiva was puzzled. “What’s going on here? Who is that strong man? Why are all the people watching?” he asked of the elderly man next to him.

“Haven’t you heard? The king has proclaimed that whoever can get into the bottle can keep the beautiful gem inside,” replied the man.

“Any tactic or trick is considered fair,” he continued. “But the catch is to get past the king’s private bodyguard, and no one can get past him! If you could, by some miracle, it was the king’s body guard who tightly closed the lid. There is probably no one in the kingdom but he who can open it!”

“Another ridiculous contest from the king,” said Akiva. “Doesn’t he have anything better to do than think up these things? What’s the gem worth anyway?”

“They say it is worth ten thousand gold coins. It’s a gem so large that it would not even fit on a ring finger. They say it fills up your whole hand when you hold it. No one has ever seen it, but it is inside of that container,” responded a young boy in the crowd.

“Well, no one is ever going to get it. That huge bodyguard could break every bone in a man’s body. And besides, who will ever be able to open it? The material is strong as steel. The lid was tightened by that monster of a man who stands there. No one is ever going to be able to get that gem. No one!” said the old man.

Another man then approached, appearing to have a trick up his sleeve. He had some type of whip; and as he approached the huge guard, he swung and cracked it, making a huge crashing noise that caused everyone to shudder, except the bodyguard.

As the whip came closer and closer, the people cheered. Fearlessly, the bodyguard caught the leather strap with his own hand and tugged at it so hard that the man went flying through the air. And the crowd cheered again.

Next came another man who ran at the bodyguard with a sword. “This is amazing,” thought Akiva. “These people are crazy. They’ll do anything just to get that gem.” As the man came charging towards the bodyguard with the sword, the people waited with bated breath. Nobody knew what would happen next. As the man lunged towards the bodyguard with one very swift movement, the bodyguard ducked, leaned under the attacker and threw him way, way into the air, as the sword went crashing to the ground.

The bodyguard quickly picked up the sword himself and began to wield it in the direction of his attacker. The man scurried away, thankful to still be alive. Again, the crowd roared.

The show went on for hours. The bodyguard seemed to have an endless amount of energy. His attackers came at him with anything one could possibly imagine: little daggers, swords, whips, poisonous snakes, axes, nets, hammers, slippery oil. But nobody was getting past the strong man.

“And that is only the first part of the difficult task,” thought Akiva. “Anyone who got by him would certainly never be able to open that container.”

In the late afternoon, one of the dignitaries of the king stepped out into the town square and blew on a large horn. He then proclaimed in a loud voice, “The contest has now ended for the day. Anyone who would like to participate in this challenge from His Majesty the King is invited to this very same spot tomorrow at sun up. The contest will go on throughout the week. At the end of the week, the contest will be closed forever. The jewel will remain in the possession of the king until the end of time. Until tomorrow then, ladies and gentlemen, the contest is now closed for the evening.”

The crowd cheered as they all began to disperse happily, talking about the great sport they had seen through the day. Akiva overheard many people talking about new ideas to be tried on the next day. Most people were talking, only the very brave, and only a very few, actually had the courage to step forward and challenge the king’s bodyguard. Everyone else just laughed and chuckled and dreamt about ways to open that container.

That night at the dinner table, Akiva sat alone with his mother thinking, “Just think, if I could only get past that bodyguard and open that container, that gem would be enough for us to be secure. We could afford the things we need. We wouldn’t have to worry about holes in the roof or where tomorrow’s meal will come from. We could get a nice place to live. Mom, do you think there is any way that I could get by the bodyguard?”

His mother laughed and said, “Akiva, you are a brave young man, and I really appreciate all of your courage, but it is no use. There is no quick fix to our problems. The strongest people in the land can’t find a way to get to the bottle and you think you can?”

In spite of his mother’s words, Akiva could not stop thinking about the bottle and the gem. After his father died when he was only a little baby, his mother and he always struggled to survive. She worked day and night, and he did odd jobs for local townspeople and farmers. If only he could figure out a way to get to the bottle and open it, their lives would be changed forever.

Throughout the night, Akiva dreamed after dream. He saw in his dreams how hundreds of people saw him overcoming the great powerful bodyguard. He would take the little jug, pop the cork off with one hand and take out the beautiful gem. Everyone would cheer, and the bodyguard would lift him onto his shoulders and carry him victorious throughout the town. He awoke in the morning and realized sadly that it was all a dream.

“I know there is a way I can do it,” he thought. “I just have to figure out what it is that everyone else is missing.”

By the middle of the next day, Akiva had found his way back to the center of the town square to watch the spectacle again. In a panic Akiva realized he had less than a week. Then the contest would be over forever, and his chance to capture the gem, lost.

He decided that he would watch ever so carefully everyday to see all the tricks and watch for the weaknesses of the bodyguard. Perhaps there was a weak spot, a way to get around him. “I know I can do it. Every puzzle has a solution,” thought Akiva determinedly.

So he sat there all day and watched one brave young man after another, one cunning trick after another. No one even came near to the jug. Akiva returned day after day until there was only one day left.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

Click here for more storytelling resources

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

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

If the stories are not shared they will be lost.

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A Palace of Bird Beaks: An Ancient Yemenite Story

Posted on Monday, 17, February, 2020Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

The Holy One, blessed be He “gave Solomon wisdom and very great insight, and a breadth of understanding as measureless as the sand on the seashore.” (I Kings 4:29) He could com¬mand the winds and birds to come whenever he called them. He even knew the languages of every bird and animal on earth.

From all nations people came to listen to Solomon’s wisdom, sent by all the kings of the world, who had heard of his wisdom. (I Kings 4:34)

Kings and queens from all over the world came to Jerusalem to pay homage to King Solomon, and he welcomed each one as a royal guest. Once the Queen of Sheba came to visit him. She brought him many precious gifts from her kingdom, and the king asked her what gift she would like in return.

“Oh, I would like something that no other queen on earth has ever had,” said the Queen of Sheba. “Build me a palace of bird beaks!”

“In that case,” King Solomon said, “let such a palace be built.”

Then King Solomon called forth all the birds in the world and commanded them to come to his palace, prepared to give up their beaks. Before even a day had gone by, thousands of birds filled the sky, beating their wings and swooping down to the palace. All came: the strong eagle, the tiny hummingbird, the bluebird, the mockingbird, and every bird that lived on earth. The birds were not very happy at having to give up their beaks. But what could they do? They were among the smallest creatures in the king-dom. Soon every bird had flocked to the palace except one – the hoopoe – a little bird with colorful feathers and a fine, pointed beak. As time passed and it did not arrive, the king became angry.

“Fetch the hoopoe and bring it here!” he shouted to his servants. “Let it be punished for failing to obey the king!”

At last the hoopoe was brought before the king.

“Where have you been?” King Solomon demanded. “Why have you kept me waiting ?”

“Please, your Majesty, do not be angry with me,” said the hoopoe. “I have come here from the ends of the earth. I have flown over gardens, forests, oceans, and deserts, and from all that I have seen, I have gained much wis¬dom. Punish me if you must, but first give me a chance to prove that I have not just been flying lazily about. Let me ask you three riddles. If you can answer them correctly, then do what you will with me. But if there is even one of them that you cannot answer, then spare my life.”

The other birds gasped. How dare a bird bargain with the king! King Solomon admired this bold little creature, and he accepted the challenge. “Very well,” he said, “go ask your riddles. After all, how can your wisdom be compared to the that of a king?”

So the hoopoe spoke. “This is the first riddle. Tell me, your Majesty, who is it who was never born and has never died?”

The king did not even pause to think. “The Holy One, blessed be He, ” he said at once. And as he spoke, King Solomon thought, “The Master of All Life who created all creatures to be free.”

The hoopoe continued. “Here is the second riddle. Tell me, your Majesty, what water never rises from the ground and never falls from the sky?”

King Solomon smiled, for he knew the answer. “The answer is a tear,” he said, “a tear that falls from an eye that cries with sadness.” And as he finished answering, King Solomon looked around and saw all those birds stretched out before him, waiting sadly and helplessly for their beaks to be cut off. The king too was saddened, and a tear came to his eye.

Now a strange thing happened. Although King Solomon was certain that his wisdom was perfect, for just a moment it occurred to him that perhaps he had done a foolish thing in agreeing to build a palace of bird beaks.

Then the hoopoe spoke again, and this time it trembled, for it had only one riddle left, only one more chance to save itself.

“Your Majesty, what is it that is delicate enough to put food in a baby’s mouth, yet strong enough to bore holes in the hardest wood?” It did not take King Solomon long to reply. “Why, a bird’s beak, of course!” he an¬swered. And looking around at that great gathering of birds, he realized how special those creatures were, and how very precious their beaks were to them.

Meanwhile the hoopoe bowed its head. “Punish me as you will, your Majesty, for you have answered my three riddles.” And it waited in silence to hear the harsh punishment of the king.

King Solomon smiled. “Dear hoopoe,” he announced in a loud voice, so that all the birds could hear, “I am known throughout the world for my wisdom, yet you are the one who is truly wise. You have shown me that a king should never be too proud to admit he has made a mistake. I have decided not to build a palace of bird beaks after all!”

At this, all the birds wanted to flap their wings in joy, but they did not dare to interrupt the king. Then the brave hoopoe spoke up and said, “Your majesty, how can we ever thank you? Even though we cannot give the Queen of Sheba a palace of bird beaks, we would be glad to build a palace of feathers for her.”

The Queen of Sheba was delighted by this offer, for such a palace would be just as unique as one built out of bird beaks. And as soon as she agreed, flocks of birds stirred up great winds as they swooped down to donate feath¬ers for the palace. And when there was a mountain of feathers lying before them, the birds built a palace of great beauty out of those feathers. And when they were finished, the Queen of Sheba was speechless, for never had she received such a beautiful gift.

Then King Solomon said to the hoopoe, “For your wisdom, hoopoe, you shall be rewarded.” Then the king called forth the royal jeweler and bade him make the bird a small crown, much like that of the king. And when the crown was finished, King Solomon placed it upon the head of the hoopoe. That is why the hoopoe wears a crown on its forehead to this day, to remind all the birds who see it of the wise hoopoe who saved their beaks.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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Charity, the Miser and the Trial

Posted on Monday, 3, February, 2020Monday, 3, February, 2020 by Rabbi

Pinchas was a humble lumber merchant. He worked hard each day and with time, he became a wealthy man. At first, the community was pleased with his success, as his wealth was also good for the financial needs of the community. Sadly, little by little, Pinchas began to distance himself from the community and their needs.

The time came when Pinchas no longer felt comfortable living in the Jewish community, and he moved to the other side of town where he built himself a large, well-guarded mansion.

His new choice of residence curtailed his giving of charity even more. At first, if someone knocked on the door, they’d receive a small sum. But soon enough, his donations became less and less, until they stopped completely. The administrators of the community funds removed his name from their lists of potential benefactors.

It happened one wintery night when the cold winds blew hard that a traveler noticed the mezuzah on Pinchas’s door and knocked. Luckily for the traveler, Pinchas was not home and the butler, feeling sorry for him, let him in.

The guest soon recovered from the cold, and the butler promptly told him about his boss’s history and character. He suggested that he find other accommodations, as his master did not like guests.

As they were talking, they heard a carriage pull up, and in walked Pinchas, wrapped in his fur coat. His reaction to the guest was quick. “What is this? A way station for beggars? Get out of here now!” he shouted.

The next day, news spread that a stranger had died on the streets not far from Pinchas’s mansion. The story did not move Pinchas in the slightest. He knew who the person was, but he did not let it bother him.

That night, he had a dream. Two strong men broke into his house and began dragging him, saying, and “Come with us.”

Pinchas asked in surprise, “Where are we going?”

“To a court case held by the holy rabbi of the region.”

“But why?” Pinchas asked.

“Everything will be known to you at the right time,” they answered bluntly.

He soon found himself in a large yard surrounding a beautiful house. At first he was fascinated by the scene, but when he was brought inside to a packed room, fear began to overtake him as he heard the masses call out that a path be made for the chief judge, the holy rabbi of the region. The holy rabbi entered and took his seat in between two other judges who were already waiting.

Pinchas immediately recognized the plaintiff; it was the poor traveler from the previous night. The dead man began his accusation by recounting how hungry and weak he was when he stood at the door of the mansion, while Pinchas stood there still as a stone and ignored his pleading. The man outlined the last few minutes of his life after he was thrown out, including all the grim details. “My last ounce of energy left me, and there was no rescue for me. After many days of living on an empty stomach, my hunger and the bitter cold claimed the last of my strength.”

“Do you have anything to say in your defense?” asked the holy rabbi.

Pinchas was silent. For the first time he felt ashamed and was embarrassed by his actions.

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After deliberating with the other judges, the holy rabbi of the region turned to Pinchas and said, “We are taught that ‘If there is among you anyone in need, a member of your community … do not be hard-hearted or tight-fisted toward your needy neighbor.’ (Deuteronomy 15:7) Your actions are very serious and your punishment is severe. You should sell your property and divide it in two. One half you should give to the widow of the poor man, and the other half you should keep for your family. If you agree to this sentence, change your ways and open your doors to anyone who is poor, your soul will have a tikkun (restoration).”

Pinchas woke up soaked in a sweat. He tried to ignore the dream, pushing it out of his mind. But it kept coming back. It gave him no rest until he decided to travel to speak to the holy rabbi of the region.

When he arrived at the holy rabbi’s house, his heart started pounding. He remembered the courtyard and the house from his dream! His knees were shaking as he walked into the study hall; it looked exactly like the courtroom from his dream.

A large crowd was listening to a Torah (Scripture) lesson that was being given by the holy rabbi of the region. Under the cover of the crowd, Pinchas became more confident, and he tried to get a peek at the holy rabbi. He tried to ignore the dream, but it kept coming back. There was no doubt this was the chief judge from his dream.

Suddenly, a narrow path cleared. Pinchas didn’t understand the movement of the holy rabbi’s finger, gesturing for him to come forward. Those standing near him said, “The holy rabbi is summoning you.”

Pinchas felt faint. With shaky legs, he made his way up to the holy rabbi and came face to face with the holy rabbi of the region who said sharply, “almsgiving delivers from death, and it will purge away every sin. Those who perform deeds of charity and of righteousness will have fullness of life (Tobit 12:9). Remember to follow the verdict and you will merit a tikkun.”

At that moment, Pinchas passed out. And when he came to, he was a changed man. Pinchas knew with absolute certainty that he would do as he was told. He was filled with deep regret and wanted to correct his wicked ways and return to his community.

Based on Sichas haShavuah 607

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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Katanya – A Jewish Folk Tale from Turkey

Posted on Sunday, 26, January, 2020Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

Once upon a time there was a poor old woman. All her life she had wished for a child of her own. But though she wished and wished, she never had any children. Her husband died, and still she wanted a child. “Oh, how wonderful it would be if only I had a little boy or girl,” she said. So she prayed ‘with all her heart, with all her soul, and with all her might. (see Deuteronomy 6:5)

Heaven saw how lonely the old woman was and sent Eliyahu haNovi (Elijah the prophet), may his memory be a blessing, to visit her. He came to her as a merchant in the market. Now this old woman had worked hard all of her life, but she had no money left and nothing to sell for food. So each day she went to the market to ask the merchants for what they could spare and many they took pity on her and gave her some fruit. Some days that was all she had to eat.

One day all the merchants were in a bad mood because the king had raised their taxes. When the old woman begged for fruit, each and every one of them turned her away. She did not get anything from them and she was very sad, for it looked as if she would go hungry all day long.

Just as she was about to leave the market, she noticed a merchant she had never seen before, an old man who looked as poor as she was. As she walked over to the old man, she saw that all he had left were six brown dates, dry¬ing in the sun.

“Could you spare just one?” she asked.

“Surely,” said the old man (who was really Eliyahu haNovi). “Take the one you want.”

Now five of the dates were very little, but one was big, and that is the one she chose. “Thank you, kind sir,” she said, and went on her way.

When she got home, the old woman placed the date on the windowsill, where sunlight shone on it. “You know, the old woman said to herself, this is such a beautiful date, I don’t have the heart to eat it.” So she left it there, even though she was hungry, and went out to see if she could find some¬thing else to eat.

The sun continued to shine on the date until it was quite warm. Soon the date began to stir, as if something were inside it. All at once it broke open and out popped a little girl. She was no bigger than a little finger, and she wore a pretty red dress. The little girl stood up on the windowsill and looked around. The house was quite bare. Only a bed and a table and a chair stood in the room and it needed cleaning, for the old woman’s broom had only a few straws left.

The first thing the little girl did was to climb out the window. She saw a ball of string hanging on the wall and, grabbing one end of the string, she lowered herself down to the ground. There she picked some of the short grasses, because she was very short herself, and she tied the bundle together with another piece of straw. “Oh, what a perfect broom for me!” she cried.

Back up the string and onto the windowsill she climbed, and then she started to clean the house. She swept from corner to corner, until the floor sparkled like new.

Meanwhile, the old woman was still walking on the road, searching for some food, when whom should she meet but the old man who had given her the date! The old man smiled and this time he gave her a large shiny olive. She thanked him and he continued on his way. When the old woman bit into the olive, what did she find inside but a golden coin! She hurried after the old man to give it back, but he was nowhere to be found. The golden coin was hers to keep. What a lucky day for me! she thought.

She was even more surprised when she got home, for there was her house, all neat and clean! She couldn’t believe her eyes. “Who did this?” she asked out loud.

“I did, Mother,” said a tiny voice.

The old woman looked around. There on the windowsill, where the old woman had left the date, was the tiniest girl in the world, no bigger than the woman’s little finger. The old woman blinked to see if she was dreaming. “Did you call me Mother?”

“Yes, Mother,” said the girl. And that is when the old woman understood that the kind old man must have been Elijah the prophet. And she hugged the tiny girl very carefully, so as not to hurt her.

Then she asked the girl her name. But the girl did not answer. “No one has given me a name,” she said at last.

“Then I will name you!” said the old woman. She thought and thought. “I will call you Katanya – the little one,” she said.

Katanya and the old woman lived together happily in that little hut. With the help of the golden coin they never had to go hungry. And the first thing the old woman did with the money was to pay back every merchant who had given her fruit to eat.

The old woman loved Katanya with all her heart. She made a little bed for her inside a teacup. She fashioned a fur hat for her from lamb’s wool, shoes out of tiny nutshells, and dresses made of rose petals. Of all her clothes, Katanya loved her red dress the most. It was the one she had been wearing when she first popped out of the date.

Katanya helped her mother by sweeping out the house with her tiny broom. She even cleaned between the boards of the floor, an easy task for her, since she was so small. While she did her chores, Katanya sang. She had a beautiful voice that sounded as if a full grown girl were singing. Katanya’s voice brought joy to everyone who heard it.

One day the prince was riding down the street, when he heard a lovely song drifting from an open window. The voice was so beautiful that he fell instantly in love. When he returned to the palace, he told his father, the king: “Father, I have found a lovely bride, and I wish to be married.”

“Very well, my son,” said the king in surprise, “but who is the bride?” “I wish to marry the girl whose beautiful singing I heard today,” said the prince.

The king sent a servant at once to the house of the old woman and invited her to come with her daughter to the palace. The servant told the woman: “I have brought a tailor with me who will sew dresses for you both.”

But when the old woman told Katanya this, the girl shook her head. “No, no, no! I love my dress of many colors, and that’s what I will wear.” So the tailor fitted the old woman, but when he asked to see the girl, he was told that she already had a pretty dress.

A few days later, the old woman put on her new dress and went to the palace, with Katanya hiding inside the pocket. The king welcomed her, but the prince was very sad. “Your daughter was invited to join us too,” he said.

“Why has she not come?”

All at once a tiny voice came from the pocket: “Here I am!” Then Katanya’s head peeked out.

“Is it you I heard singing?” asked the prince, much amazed.

“Perhaps,” she answered.

“In that case,” said the prince, “could you sing for us now? If you are the girl I heard, then it is you I want to marry, even though you are small.”

Katanya smiled, for what the prince said was very nice indeed. She sang a song more beautiful than any he had ever heard.

So it was that Katanya married the prince and became Princess Katanya. At her wedding she wore her favorite dress of many colors. The blessing at the hand of Eliyahu haNovi was fully realized that “Though your beginning was small, your latter days will be very great (Job 8:7). After the wedding the old woman came to live at the palace along with her. And all of them lived hap¬pily ever after.

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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The Groom Who Vanished – A Jewish Ghost Story

Posted on Monday, 20, January, 2020Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

It is said that “Olam Haba is a guta zach (the World to Come is a good thing) Lernen Toirah is a besser zach (learning Torah is a better thing)” and so the study of Torah in the Jewish community never stops. Long ago in a Jewish village there were two young men who loved to learn together and they were good friends. They spent all of their days in the Beis Medresh (House of Study) and immersed themselves in the revealed and hidden Torah (Scriptures). They even spent their spare time together and were seldom separated. For they were as close as brothers.

Then it happened that one of the young men became sick, his friend visited him each day. The sickness attacked the young man so strongly that he weakened and died. This unexpected event grieved his friend greatly. He continued to study the Torah even more in honour of his lost friend.

In time his grieving lessened, and when he thought of his friend he was able to smile at the memories of how close they had been. After a few years he became known throughout the region for his great knowledge of the Torah. Men of wealth and distinction began to visit his poor dwelling, hoping to bring him home as a groom for one of their daughters.

According to the direction, “marry your daughter to a scholar (Pesachim 49a) a match was made. The wedding day arrived and everyone was occupied with preparations for the wedding feast. As for the bridegroom, he was isolated in a room, waiting for the ceremony to begin. After a few hours he became restless, and he decided to step outside for a moment. Empty fields stretched before him, and on the horizon he saw a figure walking his way.

When the young man first observed him, he was barely curious to know who it was. But as the figure drew closer, it looked strangely familiar. All at once the young man recognized who it was—his friend, who had left this world. A long chill ran down his spine, but at the same time he felt a terrible longing. All the affection he held for his friend returned and overwhelmed him, and he stood rooted, waiting for the other to arrive. When he did, the two friends embraced, and the young groom saw that his friend looked exactly as he used to, as if he had never aged.

It was then that his long-lost friend spoke for the first time, his voice exactly as it had been.”Tell me,” he said, “do you remember what was the last thing in the Torah we were learning?” It had been ten years, and the young man had completely forgotten. His friend reminded him, and suddenly the whole discussion came back to him. He had not thought of it since then, but now it mattered to him as much as before. And they launched into a long debate, like those they had had in the Beis Medresh, sitting at the same table, studying the pages of the Holy Books together.

As they spoke, lost in their words, the two friends wandered from the field to the nearby forest. The young groom, only hours before standing beneath the bridal canopy, forgot all about his wedding. Indeed, he forgot about everything, except for the fact that he was immersed in the Torah once more with his friend. How such a thing was possible did not occur to him at that time, so natural did it seem.

As they were walking,they came upon a little hut deep in the forest. They went inside and there the Torah lay open to the very passage that they were discussing. The young man and his friend read it out loud together, as they had done so often in the Beis Medresh. And almost at once they were lost in the warp and weft that make up the weave of the fine points of the revealed and hidden Torah. One idea led to another, and yet another and still others beckoned as a tapestry of learning grew between them.

Time flew past. The young man forgot whether it was day or night. The Holy Word, after all, was
infinite, and he was lost in its complexity, as he had been in the happiest days of his life, sharing insights with his friend. Their rambling discussion led them, by one route or another, to the laws concerning the obligations of the bridegroom to the bride. At that moment the young man remembered that it was his wedding day. He looked outside and saw that it had grown dark, and the time of the wedding was at hand. Then he embraced his friend and hurried off as fast as he could, hoping that he would not provoke the fury of his new father-in-law or the disdain of his bride.

When he reached the town, he found himself confused, for it seemed changed from what he remembered. Nor could he find his father-in-law’s house, and he began to grow fearful that he would be late to his own wedding. At last he asked an old woman he met about where the house could be found, and she said, “I have lived here all my life, and there is no family by that name who lives here.”

The young groom pleaded with her, saying, “Please understand that this is the day of my wedding. I just left the house of my father-in-law a few hours ago. I took a little walk and lost track of time.

Please tell me where their house can be found.”

The old woman replied, “When I was a girl I heard a story about a groom who left the house a few hours before the wedding and was never seen again.” “And how long ago was that?” he asked.

And she said, “That was a hundred and twenty years ago.”

And he asked, “And what was the name of the groom?”

The old woman thought long and hard, and at last she remembered it, and she told him. And the name she recalled was his own.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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The Mystical Melody Part II – The Search

Posted on Friday, 17, January, 2020Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

“Your Majesty, there was an attempt to take over your throne by that jealous Duke Maskil!”

Your Majesty, war has broken out in the kingdom of Tsumisht due to the squabbles of the two lords who rule there!”

The king laughed and thought to himself, “I’ve just returned, but it’s as though I’d never left. What a welcome!”

The king was back into numerous meetings, conferences and consultations. Many documents and papers needed urgent review by the king. Many dignitaries and officials waited anxiously to speak to him. His advisors busied themselves giving him advice he didn’t ask for. After several hours of a grueling schedule, food was brought before him. Doctors surrounded the king, telling him what to eat and what not to eat, what to drink and what not to drink.

Later that night, when he had a few quiet moments to himself in his throne room, the king thought, “It is the perfect time to hum the very special melody.” He leaned back, closed his eyes, relaxed, and imagined that he was in the valley. He began to hum. The melody didn’t sound right. He tried several times, but the king could not remember the song.

The king tried again and again to hum, to remember some piece of the melody, but he could not do it. He couldn’t remember one note of the melody that had that had no beginning and no end; gone too were the feelings, tremors and shivers that it had inspired.

There was pounding at the door now. “Your Majesty, the Duke of the Northern Kingdom has arrived. He must speak with you instantly. He has very important news. He may be able to settle the dispute among his lords.”

“Alright. Bring him in,” said the exhausted, tired king.

The king found himself in endless meetings, trying to make peace among his advisors. Sadly, the king thought to himself, “Life in the palace is so hectic and stressful. If only I could remember that melody.”

All through the meetings the king’s eyes kept drifting off into the distance. He heard almost nothing that was being said. He kept thinking, “The valley, the melody . . . if only I could remember that melody.”

That night the king tossed and turned in his bed. He could not console himself on the loss of the melody, and it seemed to be affecting his health.

In the wee hours of the night, the king’s private doctor was called in. The king looked pale and worn. He would not respond to any of his servants and only moaned, “If only I could remember the song.”The doctor looked into the king’s eyes and said, “Your Majesty, I have an idea. Why don’t we take you back to the valley? Why don’t we find the shepherd who played that melody? The shepherd can be brought right here to the palace, and he can play the melody for you. You can find peace and regain your health.”

The king looked at the doctor, and a smile spread across his face. “You are brilliant. Why that is the simplest idea. Let’s do that immediately.”

“Your Majesty, it is still night. Why don’t you get some rest and early in the morning, we will send our fastest couriers to the valley to find that shepherd and bring him here. I am confident that you will then be cured.”

The king relieved by the advice of the doctor, relaxed and fell asleep within minutes. He slept soundly until the sun rose in the sky.

As soon as the early light of morning allowed a safe journey, the king was up and waiting at his coach. “I must go off to the valley.”

“But, Your Majesty, the meetings . . . .”

“They’ll have to wait. This is much more important.”

It was only hours later that the king, along with twenty of his best soldiers, was standing at the foot of the valley. All they had to do now was wait for the shepherd. They waited for a long time, but the shepherd never came.

The king ordered his soldiers to go to the nearby village and ask, “Does anyone know a shepherd who plays a beautiful melody on the flute? Has anyone seen the shepherd who grazes his sheep in the valley?” they asked of anyone they met.

Sadly, no one knew, no one heard. The king decided to wait another day, hoping the shepherd would come then. The king and his soldiers waited in the valley. Everyone hoped that the morning would bring the shepherd and his melody.

Morning came but still no shepherd. The waiting began again. By now some of the king’s advisors seriously doubted whether the king had not made a mistake. Some began to question in a hushed whisper, “Is our king’s mind still sound?” The doctor believed that the king had indeed heard the shepherd’s melody in this place.

At the end of the third day, the sad king his coach and left with his soldier escort. His dream was crushed.

As soon as he got to the palace, the king shut himself in his throne room. No one was allowed to see him except his trusted doctor. The servants tiptoed through the hallways, and a sense of sadness hung over the palace.

The king’s advisors called meetings to determine what should be done for the king. They all agreed that he was getting sicker each day and that the shepherd must be found at all costs. They decided that a royal proclamation that would be heard throughout the land.

“Hear ye, hear ye…let it be known throughout the kingdom that any shepherd who can play the amazing melody that has no beginning and no end must make his way to the palace at once. He who can play the melody that the king remembers shall be handsomely rewarded.”

The word spread, and within a few days, a long line of shepherds formed at the palace gates. Hundreds of shepherds of all shapes and sizes, flutes in hand, waited for their chance to play their song before the king.

The king, hearing the commotion looked out, and was surprised to see the long line of shepherds.”What has happened here? Who are all these people?” he asked.

“Shepherds, Your Majesty,” said one of the advisors. “They have come here to try to play your song for you.”

“So many of them? Why, they are a bunch of imposters! Only one can know the melody for which I long.”

“That may be so, Your Majesty, but only you know right melody.

The first shepherd was brought before the king. He had only played three or four notes of his song when the king slammed his fist angrily on the table and said, “No! You are an impostor!” Quickly, the shepherd was left the throne room.

The same thing happened with the next shepherd and the next. Every shepherd began to play but was stopped almost immediately by the king and sent out. The king lost his patience. “The next impostor who steps across the threshold of my throne room will be put to death!” he thundered.

Afraid for their lives, the remaining shepherds quickly disappeared. The king sank back into sadness, and the advisors and the doctor were beside themselves with worry.

Days later, it finally happened! From a faraway valley, a shepherd appeared at the palace gates. The shepherd was brought immediately before the king. He bowed and humbly said, “Your Majesty, I am the shepherd that you await. My melody certainly has no beginning and no end, and I know the valley of which you speak. I would be honored to play my melody for you.”

The king looked pleased. He liked the look of this shepherd. As a matter of fact, although he could no longer remember exactly what his shepherd had looked like, this shepherd had a familiar look about him. He motioned to him, “Do sit down. Do play the melody for me.”

The shepherd sat himself down on the floor and said, “Your Majesty, please close your eyes and imagine that you are in the valley. All around you, you see the grass, the blue sky, the sheep, and you hear the echo of this melody.”

The king smiled. He threw his head back in anticipation and listened. The shepherd began to play a mystical song, a song that sounded like a gift from heaven, and the king listened very intently. The shepherd played about five minutes and then he stopped to rest. He looked up at the king. The king’s eyes were tightly closed, and for a long moment he did not say anything. When he opened his eyes, the king took a very long look at the shepherd. There was a deep furrow in his forehead. Softly, he said, “Please, will you play that melody one more time?”

“Certainly, Your Majesty. It would be my pleasure, but remember, lean back, relax and empty your mind of its worries, just as you did when you lay in the valley. Then concentrate on the sounds that come from this flute.”

“Yes, yes,” said the king, “go ahead.”

Again, the shepherd played his soulful melody. Tears streamed down from the eyes of the king.

When the music stopped, the king looked as if he had been shaken from a dream. The king started in his chair and said, “I’m not sure. This might be it. Please, shepherd, play it one more time.”

One more time, the shepherd lifted the flute to his mouth, and the
gentle notes filled the room with a sense of peace.

For a long time, the shepherd played. The king swayed back and forth, listening with great intensity to every note. The tears were all over his cheeks now.

At the end the king blinked several times. He then opened his eyes. It was hard to see clearly through all the tears. He patted his eyes dry and in a small voice said, “Thank you very much. You may go now.”

Excuse me, Your Majesty. Do you mean that I should wait outside?”

“No, I’m sorry,” said the king. “I’m afraid that it’s the wrong song after all. Your song is truly wonderful, and you play the flute masterfully, but still your song is not the right song. For a while there, I thought I had a glimmer of hope that it was, but I’m sorry, it is not.”

The shepherd sat down quietly for a moment. Then he looked deep into the eyes of the king and said, “Your Majesty, would you be so kind as to allow me to ask you one question?”

“Go ahead,” said the king. “You have been most helpful. You may ask your question.”

“Your Majesty,” said the shepherd, “if you do not remember the melody that you heard in the valley, how do you know that this is not it? Perhaps this is the melody that you have forgotten, Your Majesty.”

The king nodded several times. “That is a very good question. How do I know? How will I ever know when I finally hear the song for which I am yearning?”

“My dear shepherd, when I will hear the right melody, my soul will shake. My body will tremble. You see, that is what happened when I heard the song for the first time, and that is what happened each time I heard it again.”

“Today as I listened to your beautiful music, no tingles, no shivers and no trembling overtook me. That’s how I know that it is the wrong song. When the day comes and I hear the right song, I am certain that I will again experience the same feelings that I did every other time that I heard it. But until then, I cannot settle for a substitute. I must wait for the song that reaches my soul.”

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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Story Tour shares special Purim stories for all to enjoy and share with others. The threat of violence and a sense of foreboding has led many to prayer and the unseen hand of the Holy One, blessed be He brought hope and peace as heartfelt prayers were said.

A Maggid and Purim – Megillah, maggidim (spiritual storytellers) and the king’s sleepless night. The king could simply have a maggid to tell a bedtime story.

Purim: A Time of Joy – Purim is a Jewish holiday of deliverance from death which served as an inspiration in the ghettos, death camps and forests of nazi Europe and a spark of hope.

Another Purim? – For many Jewish families of Spanish descent, there is a special holiday called Purim Saragossa based on a 15th century event that even fewer people know about.

Purim by the Clock – The day of Purim..the clock showed him that the hands on the clock’s face stood at the same position, the very moment when the king was carried away.

More Purim Stories Tomorrow and on Purim

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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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The holy rabbi once gathered a select group of his students and told them: “Come, I will show you someone who sincerely and wholeheartedly welcomes guests into his home.”

The horses and carriage were prepared for the journey. The wheels of the wagon flew through fields and forests as well as mountains and valleys. Late in the afternoon, the wagon came to a halt in front of an inn.

There was a small inn tucked away in a small village whose manager was a pious man. Every day he would pray:

“Master of the Universe, kind and loving Father: help me cultivate the trait of holy lovingkindness. Let me model myself on our forefather, Avraham, who practiced lovingkindness all his life.

Bring me to perfect faith and true humility. Save me from all embarrassment and indignity. Give me the strength to fight and conquer all those who hate the truth and bring them down to the dust.

As the carriage of the holy rabbi and his students came near the inn the innkeeper ran to meet them, and respectfully bowed saying: “Holy rabbi, if I find favor with you, do not pass by my humble inn. Baruch Hashem (Praised be G-d), that I have the opportunity to serve you and your students.”

The holy rabbi thought for a moment and answered: “Maybe it would be better that we continue on our way to the nearby city. There we will be able to pray with the congregation and hear the Torah reading.”

In the end, the holy rabbi agreed to the request of the innkeeper, and the travelers became his guests.

While the innkeeper lived modestly, he offered his guests his best rooms and did everything he could to make their stay comfortable. After they had prayed, he invited them to a table set with delicious food. He himself stood by to serve them.

The holy rabbi and his students spent a few more days with the villager, who took care of all their needs personally and did everything in his power to make sure they felt at home.

Before leaving, the holy rabbi asked their host if he had any special requests.

“My only request is that you pray for me that I merit life in the World to Come,” the innkeeper answered.

Some time passed, and the students all but forgot about the innkeeper. One day, the holy rabbi instructed his students, “Today a group of poor people came to our town. Please go and tell them that I am inviting them to my Shabbos meal.”

When the poor people were seated around the table, the holy rabbi turned to one of them and invited him to come sit next to him.

“Do you recognize me?” the holy rabbi asked.

“Yes,” the poor man answered. “I had the merit to host the holy rabbi and his students in my inn.”

The students sitting around the table suddenly paid attention.

“Tell us what happened to you since then,” the holy rabbi continued.

The innkeeper told the following tale:

“The path was totally flooded with water, and the wagons were unable to move forward. I got off the wagon and, leaving the merchandise with the wagon drivers, I started searching for a house or inn in which to spend the night.”

The poor man finished his story, and all eyes now focused on the holy rabbi.

“Do you regret that you asked me to be blessed with life in the world to come? Perhaps you would prefer to get all your lost wealth back?” the holy rabbi asked the innkeeper.

“Indeed that is what I wanted to hear from you,” the holy rabbi said. “A person needs to be ready to give up everything for faith in the Holy One, blessed be He. You accomplished this, and therefore you will merit life in the World to Come.”

A smile of pure happiness spread across the poor innkeeper’s face.

Sure enough, the next day, the wagons arrived as the holy rabbi had said. The villager became wealthy, and continued to host guests in a generous fashion.

You ask, “Who was the holy rabbi?” Maybe one of the Lamed Vov Tzadikim (36 Righteous people who bless and guide the world.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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

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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Less than a week after the tzaddik Rabbi Levi Yitzchak moved to Berditchev to serve as chief rabbi, three men knocked on his door to ask him to decide a question of Halachah (Jewish law). It would be his very first case as a rabbinical judge in his new position.

The two were old friends, and the local man was happy to help his friend. Knowing each other to be completely honest, they didn’t write down anything of their arrangement or call in witnesses.

Time went by. The price of honey remained low, so the barrels remained in the Berditchev cellar, untouched.

More time went by. The man on whose property the honey was stored became sick and passed away. Everything happened so quickly, he never had a chance to explain to his family anything about the state of his affairs.

“Our father died suddenly, leaving us a large inheritance. Included in this was a storage room filled with casks of wine and oil.

“We all went to the rabbi of the town and presented our case. He ruled in our favor, explaining that nothing can be taken from the inheritance of orphans without absolute proof and an oath. The wine and oil remained in our possession. After a while, we sold the entire lot for a good price.

“What I just realized is that the money we received for that wine and oil is exactly equal to the value of my honey, which is now in the possession of the sons of my departed friend!”

With his apt comparison of the two parallel events fifty years apart, the merchant had conceded his own present case. For the same reason that, as an orphan, he was entitled to keep the wine and oil that long time ago, he had to relinquish his claim on these orphans for his honey today.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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

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.

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That night Akiva could hardly sleep. His mother came in to check on him several times and said, “Akiva, now stop with that contest. You know we have much work to do. You have not been taking care of your chores, and you know I can’t do everything by myself. Now go to sleep Akiva.”

When Akiva’s mother came to wake him the next morning, she found his bed empty. Akiva had left for the town square at the crack of dawn, not wanting to waste a minute of the contest’s final day.

“No harm in letting him try. He’ll soon learn that troubles and disappointment are a usual part of life,” she thought to herself with a sigh.

Akiva had more determination that day than anyone in the crowd. He stood there, hour after hour, gathering the courage for the moment when he would step forward and become one of the many who tried. He was sure he was to become the one who succeeded.

When there was only about an hour left in the day, Akiva realized that it was now or never. So many people had tried, and many had been badly hurt. He waited until one of the opponents had been cleared away from the floor badly bruised, and summoned up his courage.

He stepped forward, knowing with great confidence that his plan was very different than any other scheme he had watched for days now. Akiva smiled confidently and thought to himself,” No one has tried this yet. It has to be the answer.”

A hush came over the crowd. No one talked as they watched a boy, barely as high as the waist of the bodyguard, walk ever so slowly towards the bottle. The bodyguard himself, who had seen so many schemes in the past few day, stood there confused.

Remembering his obligation, the bodyguard stiffened, his muscles clenched like steel. He saw many tricks throughout each days and knew this too could be a scheme. He watched the boy with a piercing stare, until ten yards apart, the giant and the boy locked eyes.

Deep down inside, Akiva was shaking and shivering. But he was determined, and calmly returned a wide-eyed stare in the direction of the bodyguard. The townspeople watched with bated breath as Akiva continued walking slowly, until he stood in the long, wide shadow of the bodyguard.

It seemed as if the bodyguard himself let his guard down. He almost relaxed in the presence of the boy. The boy obviously had no weapons, or knives, no plots or schemes. The bodyguard looked over his opponent very carefully and decided that the boy was not even going to attack him.

Akiva knew it was his moment. He cleared his throat and began to speak to the bodyguard. The crowd inched forward, intent upon hearing what was being said. The bodyguard himself bent down to the boy so that he could hear.

A tear ran down his cheek, and he started his sentence again, “Could you please open up the jug and reach inside? You are the only one in the kingdom who could open it. Could you please open up the jug, reach inside, take out the gem and please give it to me?”

But a strange thing began to happen as a side of the man of steel revealed itself. Tears–at first only a few but then more and more–came rolling down his cheeks and fell onto his armor.

Moments later, the lid came off of the jug. The bodyguard reached deep inside the container and pulled out the most spectacular gem that anyone had ever seen. With a smile of satisfaction, he put the gem inside of the boy’s hand.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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

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

If the stories are not shared they will be lost.

Please share this story with others

Part II will be posted on Thursday, 27 February