The Widow’s Apples

Posted on Thursday, 3, September, 2020Thursday, 5, October, 2023 by Rabbi

“Rabbi, holy rabbi, have mercy on me! Please, give me some money so I can have something to eat for myself and my children on Shabbos!” With these words, the woman who had burst into the rabbi’s house broke out into tears. “I don’t have a penny to buy food for my orphan children!”

“Why didn’t you come yesterday,” said the holy rabbi, “when I was giving tzedakah (charity) to all the poor people for Shabbos? Today, I don’t have even a copper coin to give you!”

”I’ve never taken money from anybody,” the woman said, “but today I had to come to you. I have a stand in the marketplace, not far from here, where I sell apples. With the money I make, I’m barely able to support myself and my children. Yesterday morning, with the little money I had, I bought a basket of apples from a peasant. I was hoping to earn enough money to buy something to eat for Shabbos. But rabbi, no one bought my apples. They say they’re no good!”

“No good!” cried the rabbi.” Chas v’chalila (Heaven forbid) someone would say that Hashem’s apples are no good? What do they mean?”

“Rabbi,” she pleaded, “I call out: ‘Apples, apples, delicious apples that have a taste like the Garden of Eden.’ But they say the apples are bad!”

The rabbi asked the poor woman where her stand was in the marketplace and told her to go back there, promising her that she would have money for what she needed for Shabbos.

A few minutes later, the buyers in the market saw that the holy rabbi was at the widow’s apple stand calling out loudly, “kum’t arein geshmak sheynim epls far Shabbos koidesh! Epls far farkoyf! kumen aun koyfn!” (Come around. Delicious, beautiful apples for the holy Shabbos! Apples for sale! Come and buy!)”

When people heard that the holy rabbi of the town was selling apples, a crowd quickly gathered at the widow’s stand. Everyone wanted to buy apples from the rabbi. In only a few minutes, all the apples were sold.

“Do you see?” said the rabbi to the woman, as he gave her the profits, “A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver.” (Proverbs 25:11) the rabbi continued, “May you be blessed with gold and silver from the apples you sell and may your children grow strong like apple trees and always act with kindness and sweetness.”

Waldorf Salad Recipe

Ingredients

½ cup mayonnaise		3 medium Granny Smith/Green apples — cored, and chopped
1 tablespoon white sugar		1 cup thinly sliced celery
1 teaspoon lemon juice		½ cup chopped walnuts
⅛ teaspoon salt		½ cup raisins

Note: ½ cup dried Cranberries or dried cherries can be used in place of raisins

Directions

In a medium bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, sugar, lemon juice, and salt.

Stir in the apples, celery, walnuts, and raisins.

Chill until ready to serve.

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 Baker’s Reward

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

Part II – A Blessing Realized and Meeting the Rabbi

When he thought about all those golden coins that his kind employer set aside for him, and were wait¬ing for him at the secret cellar, the baker felt sad. He remembered the rabbi’s blessing. Those golden coins would have made him a rich man, though not nearly as rich as he had expected if the rabbi’s bless¬ing came true. Now he had lost even that! True, he had saved quite a bit from his wages, but now that he had to go back to his bakery there was not much of a chance that he should ever see a golden coin again. “Well, so be it,” he thought, and dismissed the whole matter from his mind.

A few days later, when the baker was in the market place, he heard that a house on the outskirts of the town was up for public sale, as the owner had died without leaving any heir or will. It immediately occurred to the baker that this could very well be the house with the cellar where he had been working for the stranger.

The following morning, the baker took his sav¬ings and hastened to the auction. The house proved to be no great attraction by the look of it; it was old and run-down. No wonder there were very few peo¬ple who were eager to make a bid for it.

The bidding started low, and when the baker raised his offer to an amount he felt he could scrape together by selling his bakery, there was no one who was prepared to outbid him. So his modest offer was accepted, and he put down the money he had with him as a deposit.

In due course, the purchase of the house was completed, and the baker received the keys and title to the house. Thereupon, he moved into the house, and immediately made his way downstairs to the cellar. His heart beating with anticipation and excitement, he tried one key after another until he finally unlocked and opened the creaky door, carefully closing and locking it after him. Then he lit the candle he had taken with him, and lo and behold! The scene was exactly as he had left it the last day he had worked there. There were the neatly stacked up piles of golden coins on the long wooden table, and the jewels, and half-emptied bags as well as many bulging bags with gold and gems that had not yet been touched. What good fortune that no one had been interested enough in the house to go down and look at the cellar!

After feasting his eyes on all that treasure that was now his, he sat down to ponder his new situa¬tion. He realized that he could not suddenly show himself in town as a wealthy man, for everybody knew him as a poor baker. If the local authorities would get wind of his wealth, it would be the end of it for him. So he thought of a plan.

He began to drop a word here and there among his friends and neighbors that he had received word from his uncle in Istanbul, who had no children, and was getting old, asking him to come to live with him and help him in his business. This gave him an excuse to make several trips to Istanbul and transfer his entire fortune there.

The former baker bought a beautiful, home in the center of the city and presented himself as a prosperous diamond merchant. He set up a large business, and soon became very influential in government circles. Never did he forget, however, that all his good fortune came to him because of the rabbi’s blessing, and he hoped that he would some day be able to repay him as he richly deserved.

Many years passed since that night when the rabbi troubled his Arab neighbor, the baker, to light his lamp for him. The aged rabbi, whose lifelong yearning was to be reunited with the Divine Presence at the sacred Western Wall in the Holy City of Jerusalem, now decided to spend his last days in the Holy Land.

When the leaders of the Jewish community in Tunisia learned of their beloved rabbi’s decision, they provided him with all the necessary expenses, as well as with a companion to care for him on the long, difficult journey. They also sent out letters to the heads of the Jewish communities in the various cities where the rabbi would be stopping on his way to the Holy Land, so that they would be prepared to receive the holy rabbi with the honor and respect due to him.

The rabbi arrived in Istanbul where he was duly received with honor and affection. The head of the Jewish community invited him to be his guest for as long as he would care to stay.

While questioning about the needs and concerns of the Jewish community, the rabbi asked his host if there was anything he could do help the community while he was in Istanbul. The head of the community heaved a deep sigh and replied:

“As it happens, our Jewish community is in serious difficulties at present, due to certain decrees that the government has imposed. The only person who can help us is a rich effendi who had great influence at the royal court. A delegation of our com¬munity leaders is going to meet with him tomorrow. However, we are quite concerned about the outcome, as we have never approached him before, and we have no idea how he will react to our request. Would the holy rabbi care to join our delegation? With the help of the Holy One, blessed be He, and in your merits, the chances of success would surely be increased.”

The rabbi readily agreed to go along with the delegation.

As soon as the delegation was ushered into the room where the effendi awaited it, everyone was startled and astonished to see the effendi spring up from his seat and rush to the rabbi to welcome him. The effendi grasped the rabbi’s hands and kissed them reverently. “I am so happy and honored to see you, rabbi,” he said excitedly.

The rabbi looked as much surprised as eve-ryone present.

Returning to his seat, the effendi asked everyone to be seated, and said, “I am now ready to hear your request.”

The head of the Jewish community then told the effendi about the difficult situation the community faced if the harsh decrees were put into effect. He begged the effendi to use his influence at the royal court to persuade the Sultan to rescind them.

“I give you my word,” the effendi promised, “that I shall not rest until I carry out your request.” Then he added, “Now, honorable representatives, please excuse me while I speak for a while to the distinguished guest from Tunisia.”

Thereupon the effendi led the rabbi to a private room, and when they were both seated, began at once:

A happy smile appeared on the rabbi’s face. Of course he remembered that night, and he now realized that the baker and the effendi were one and the same person.

“As you see, holy Rabbi, your blessing came true, beyond my wildest expectations.”

The effendi then confided to the Rabbi how, in a very strange and wondrous way, he had come to his great wealth, and had never forgotten for a moment that it was due only to the rabbi’s blessing. He further told the rabbi how he cherished the hope to see him again and repay in some small measure for the good fortune he had brought him. This is why he was so excited to see him and so eager to fulfill the request of the Jewish community.

Having told his story to the rabbi, the effendi produced a purse filled with golden coins and said, “I would consider it a privilege if the rabbi would accept this as a personal gift.”

The rabbi declined it with thanks, assuring the effendi that all his needs have been provided for.

Before parting, the effendi begged the rabbi to bless him again that his good fortune should con¬tinue to shine on him.

“You see, my friend,” the rabbi replied, “The Almighty pays his debts. In the merit of the good deed you performed to bring light into my home, so that I could study the holy writings, the Almighty bright¬ened your life with good fortune. Be good to the Jewish people, and be generous with your wealth to help anyone in need, then The Holy One, blessed be He will continue to bless you with good health and prosperity.”

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 Baker’s Reward

Posted on Sunday, 23, August, 2020Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

Part I – A Lamp and a Blessing

Many years ago there lived in Tunisia a holy rabbi, who was highly respected by all the people in his community. He spent most of his time studying the Torah. After a few hours of sleep, he would to get up in the middle of the night to recite Tikkun Chatzot a Jewish prayer recited as an expression of mourning and lamentation over the destruction of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. He would then joyfully return to study Torah and other holy writings until the early hours of the morning.

One night, he was distressed to find that he had no way to light his oil lamp. Then he remembered that his Arab neighbor, the baker, probably still had a fire in his oven. So the Rabbi went across the street and knocked on the baker’s door, hoping he might still be awake.

The baker had already gone to bed and was fast asleep. The Rabbi kept on knocking until the baker finally opened the door and demanded, sleepily, to know why he was being disturbed in the middle of the night.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” answered the rabbi apologetically, “but I need a light for my lamp.”

There were still some flickering coals in the oven, so the baker kindled a firebrand and gave it to the rabbi.

The rabbi thanked the baker and left. He had hardly crossed the street when the wind blew out the firebrand. As much as he hated to bother the baker again, the rabbi made his way back to the bakery and knocked again on the door.

The sleepy baker got out of bed again and opened the door, looking surprised and annoyed.

“Please forgive me for troubling you again, but the wind blew out the light. I am very sorry…”

Muttering to himself, the baker went to fetch a freshly lit kindling stick, and gave it to the Rabbi without a word. The rabbi thanked him very much, wished him a very good night, and left.

This time he reached his door successfully, but just as he was about to open it, a gust of wind blew out the light again.

“Enough is enough,” a voice inside of him said, “give up and go to bed!”

“Oh no!” The rabbi heard himself say, determined that he would not let anything keep him from his holy studies. He turned around and went to his Arab neighbor for the third time.

Not surprisingly, the baker was frustrated this time, and he opened his door to the rabbi saying:

“Believe me, I am truly sorry to cause you so much trouble, but it is most important that I can light my lamp to study G-d’s holy word. The Holy One, blessed be He will surely reward you for your good deed with so much gold that would outweigh by far that heavy iron bar!”

The Arab baker had a great respect for the holy rabbi’s blessing. His frustration disappeared and, he observed, “I see you are not used to handling firebrands; this time I’ll take it across for you and make sure that your lamp is lit.”

Saying this, the baker put on his coat, took a burning kindling stick and sheltering it with his coat, successfully brought it into the Rabbi’s house and lit his lamp.

Happy to have received such a wonderful bless¬ing from the holy rabbi, the baker returned home, while the rabbi sat down with a grateful heart and immersed himself in his holy study.

The baker had no doubt that the rabbi’s bless¬ing would be fulfilled. But day followed day and nothing happened. He continued to sweat at his oven, scraping coal, but not gold.

“I guess I am not worthy of the rabbi’s blessing; I’d better forget all about it,” the baker concluded sadly.

One day, as he took a stroll towards the bazaar to cool off and catch a breath of fresh air, a stranger approached him and asked him if he was looking for work.

“I have a job. I’m a baker, and while it brings me no riches, I make a living, thanks to the Holy One, blessed be He.”

“I see you’re an honest man,” said the stranger. “I need a man like you for my business. What if I offered you five times the amount you earn from your bakery; would you be interested to work for me for a few months?”

“If it’s just for a few months, I’d first have to find someone to take over my bakery for that period of time.”

“Good,” said the stranger. “Let’s meet here tomorrow at the same time.”

The following day, when the baker arrived at the arranged meeting place, the stranger was already there waiting for him.

“I’m ready to start working for you,” the baker announced.

“Very good, come with me.”

The stranger led the baker through a maze of unfamiliar winding streets, uphill and downhill, turning now right now left, until he finally stopped in a side alley.

“I hope you’ll not mind being blindfolded,” the stranger said to the baker. “No one, not even you, must know where you are working; and you must not breathe a word to anyone about the kind of work you’re doing for me.”

The stranger took out a long kerchief and blindfolded the baker. They continued walking for a short distance, then stopped again. Here the stranger led the baker down some steps, took out a large key and opened a creaking door.

“Here we are,” said the stranger, removing the blindfold from the baker’s eyes.

The baker found himself in a windowless cellar, where, by the light of a lamp that the stranger had lit, he saw a long table, with a couple of chairs. On the table lay many small bags, bulging with golden coins and jewels, worthy of a royal treasury.

“Your job,” said the stranger “is to help me separate the coins and jewels and sort them out in heaps according to their size. Then you will have to count them, record the totals, and put them into bags.”

They got busy without further talk except for the instructions the baker received. He liked the work very much, and the time passed quickly.

“That’s enough for today,” said the stranger finally. He gave the baker his day’s wages, five times the amount he would have earned from his bakery. He then put aside a golden coin, saying, “Each day, in addition to your wages, I shall put aside a golden coin for you, and when the entire job is finished I shall give you all the accumulated coins as a parting gift.”

The stranger again blindfolded the baker, unlocked the cellar door, and led him out, carefully locking the door after them. Up the steps, they went and after some distance, he removed the blindfold. They continued by a different way and finally came to the place where they had met for the first time.

“Until tomorrow morning, same time, same place,” the stranger said, and went his way.

They met every morning and spent the day working together in that secret cellar, until one morning, several weeks later, the stranger did not turn up. The baker waited for him for a long time in vain, so he went home. The same thing happened the following day. When the stranger didn’t turn up on the third day either, the baker concluded that something must have happened to him, for they had not fin¬ished their work. “Where can I look for him? I don’t know his name, or where he lives; so that’s the end of that.” There was nothing left for him to do but to return to his work at the bakery.

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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To Whom Does the Land Belong

Posted on Monday, 13, July, 2020Tuesday, 19, March, 2024 by Rabbi

It was a beautiful spot by the forest. The breeze would rustle the leaves of the nearby trees and the stream gently gurgled. One could just stand and sense the peace surrounding the area.

Two very powerful men in the village argued over who actually owned the land. Each one wanted to expand their business and made plans to build on the small plot of land. Neither of them had sufficient proof that the land was his, so they decided to take their dispute to the holy rabbi of the village. The rabbi listened carefully to their many arguments and tried hard to a fair compromise. Sadly, neither party wished to yield to type of mediation, insisting instead that the holy rabbi apply the letter of the law.

The rabbi was upset by their stubbornness and pettiness, and tried to impress upon them that earthly possessions are after all only temporary, and that a small plot of land is hardly worth the animosity they were generating. However. the two turned a deaf ear to his pleas.

The rabbi then related the Midrash that when the Israelites came to the Land of Canaan and it was portioned among the twelve tribes, the division was accomplished by casting lots, and the validity of the lot was confirmed by a Bas Kol (Heavenly voice) which affirmed to which tribe each piece of land belonged. The holy rabbi suggested that since there was not enough evidence to rule on, the two parties should rely on a Divine revelation. “Let the land speak for itself,” he said with as much authority as he could muster. The two embattled litigants agreed.

The rabbi and the two parties then went to the site. Very impressively, the rabbi bent over and spoke to the earth, “I command you to tell me to which of these two people you really belong.” He put his ear to the ground and listened, then arose slowly. With a somber look and a foreboding tone, he shared what he heard. “The earth says it belongs to neither of you, but that you belong to it, because it will eventually claim both of you.”

The two angry men immediately understood, and with shivers, agreed to work together. They built some benches and put up a sign for everyone to see who visited that beautiful spot by the forest. The sign said, “Be among the disciples of Aaron, loving peace and pursuing peace, loving people and bringing them close to faith.” “(Pirkei Avos 1:12). The path through that piece of land carried the hopes of those two powerful men – that all who walked that path would come to peace.

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 Miser Who Wanted a Divorce

Posted on Tuesday, 7, July, 2020Monday, 29, January, 2024 by Rabbi

A man who was known to be a miser pleaded with his rabbi for help. His wife had been tormenting him for years, and he simply could not tolerate living with her any longer. However, she refused to accept a divorce.

The rabbi reminded the miser, “you know a woman may not be divorced except by her own consent.” (Takkana of Rabbeinu Gershom c.1000) The miser answered, “I don’t want to be married to her any longer. She constantly annoys me and I don’t even like her.”

“I think have a solution for you,” the rabbi advised. “The Talmud warns that it a person fails to honor his promises, he will be punished with the death of his wife (Shabbos 32b). So the next time the tzedakah (charity) collectors come to you, make a commitment and then refuse to pay it.”

The man followed the rabbi’s instructions, and pledged a huge sum, but then threw the collectors out the door. Weeks later he complained to the rabbi that his advice was not working, because his wife was as healthy as ever.

The rabbi thought for a few moments and then smiled, saying, “this is supposed to be a punishment, not a reward. Listen to me and do this. Buy your wife a gift each day, speak lovingly to her, try to soothe her, and then when she becomes compatible, the curse will certainly take effect.”

The miser went and did as he was told. Slowly things changed in his home, his wife began to be kind and caring, and their relationship improved day by day. Weeks later the man came to the rabbi and said, “Rabbi, it is a miracle! We are in love now as though we were newlyweds.”

The rabbi responded, “we are taught that ‘A person must always be careful about sustaining the honor of his wife, as blessing is found in a person’s house only because of his wife’ (Bava Metzia 59a) as it is written ‘He who finds a wife finds what is good and receives favor from the L-rd.’ (Proverbs 18:22)”

The rabbi frowned and a look of deep concern came over him as he ordered. “Hurry then and fulfill your promise because the punishment can now take effect any moment!”

Some days later, the rabbi met the miser and his wife and blessed them. He told them that they would live long. “Can you bless my husband with long life?” asked the wife. “It is already done,” answered the rabbi “as it is written, ‘Enjoy happiness with a woman you love all the fleeting days of life that have been granted to you under the sun—all your fleeting days. For that alone is what you can get out of life and out of the means you acquire under the sun. (Ecclesiastes 9:9)

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 Magic Palace

Posted on Wednesday, 17, June, 2020Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

Ibrahim, the most learned and pious man of the city, whom everybody held in high esteem, fell on troubled days. He told no one of his sufferings, for he was proud and would have been honour bound to refuse the help which he knew would have been offered to him. His noble wife and five faithful sons suffered in silence, but Ibrahim was sorely troubled when he saw their clothes wearing away to rags and their bodies wasting with hunger.

One day Ibrahim sat to study from the Holy Book, but he could not see the words on the pages. His eyes were dimmed with tears and his thoughts were far away. He was dreaming of a region where hunger and thirst and lack of clothes and shelter were unknown. He sighed loudly and his wife heard.

“My dear husband,” she said to him gently, “we are starving. You must go and look for work for the sake of our children.”

“You are right and I must find a way to ease your pain” he answered, sadly, but how can I go out in these worn clothes? Who will hire a man dressed like this?”

“I will ask our kind neighbors to lend you some clothes and was successful in obtaining the loan of a cloak which completely covered Ibrahim and restored to him his dignified appearance.

His good wife encouraged him with prayers and words. He took his staff and set out with heart filled with a great hope. All people greeted the learned Ibrahim, for it was not often he was seen walking the busy streets of the city. He returned their greetings with kindly smiles, but he did not stop. He had no wish to ask his neighbors for help, who would no doubt have gladly assisted him. He desired to go among strangers and work so that he should not be beholden to anyone.

Beyond the city gates, where the palm trees grew and the camels trudged lazily toward the distant desert, he was suddenly approached by a stranger dressed as an Arab.

“O learned and holy man of the city,” he said, “command me, for I am your slave.” At the same time he made a low bow before Ibrahim.

“My slave!” returned Ibrahim, in surprise. “You make fun of me stranger. I am very poor and I am looking for the opportunity to sell myself, even as a slave, to any man who will provide food and clothing for my wife and children.”

“Do not sell yourself,” said the Arab. “Offer me for sale instead. I am a skillful builder. Look at these plans of my skill and handiwork.”

From beneath the folds of his flowing robes, the Arab produced a scroll and a box and held them out to Ibrahim. On the scroll were drawn designs of stately buildings. Within the box was an beautiful model of a palace, a marvelous piece of work, perfect in every detail and workmanship. Ibrahim examined the scroll and model with great care.

“I have never seen anything so beautiful,” he admitted. ” It is indeed a work of art. You must indeed be a wondrous craftsman. From where do you come?”

“It does not matter” replied the Arab. “I am your slave. Is there not in this city some rich merchant or nobleman who needs the services of such talents as I have? Seek him out and sell me and my services to him. To you they will listen while they will ignore me.”

Ibrahim pondered over this strange request for a while.

“Agreed!” he said, at length.

Together they returned to the city. There Ibrahim asked around the bazaar where the wealthy traders met to discuss their affairs, and soon learned of a wealthy merchant in precious stones, a man known for his kind deeds and charity who was excited to build a very fine home. He called upon the jewel merchant.

“Noble sir,” he said, “I hear that you want to build a palace the like of which this city has never seen, a structure that will be an everlasting joy to its owner, a delight to all who gaze upon it, and which will bring recognition to this city.”

“That is so,” said the merchant. “You have interpreted the desire of my heart as if you had read its deep secrets. I would truly dedicate to the uses of the building as a business center and a center of goodness to bring a good name upon the city.”

“It is well,” returned Ibrahim. “I have brought to you an architect and builder of the highest abilities. Examine his plans and designs. If they please you, as assuredly they will, purchase the man from me, for he is my slave and servant.”

The merchant could not understand the plans on the scroll, but on the model in the box he feasted his eyes for several minutes in speechless amazement.

“It is indeed remarkable,” he said at last. “I will give you eighty thousand gold pieces for your servant and slave, who must build for me just such a palace.”

Ibrahim immediately informed the Arab, who at once consented to perform the task, and then the pious man hurried to return home to his wife and children with the good news and the money, which made him rich for the rest of his days.

To the builder the merchant pledged, “You will gain your freedom if you will succeed in building me a fine home. Begin at once. I will hire craftsmen and the laborers.”

“I need no workmen,” was the Arab’s singular reply. “Take me to the land where where you wish me to build, and tomorrow your palace shall be finished.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Even as I say,” answered the Arab.

The sun was setting in golden glory when they reached the ground, and pointing to the sky the Arab said: “Tomorrow, when the great sun rises above the distant hills, its rays will strike the towers and domes of your palace, noble sir. Leave me now. I must pray.”

The merchant left the stranger and was amazed by the words of the builder. From a distance he watched the man piously praying. He had made up his mind to watch all the night; but when the moon rose, a deep sleep overcame him and he dreamed. He dreamed that he saw many men swarming about the area with strange machines and scaffolding which grew higher and higher, hiding a vast structure.

Ibrahim dreamed, too, but in his vision one figure, that of the Arab, stood out above all other things. Ibrahim scanned the features of the stranger closely; he followed, as it were, the man’s every movement. He noticed how all the workmen and particularly the supervisors greatly honouered and respected the stranger. From heavens a bright light shined on the scene and surrounded the Arab builder.

In his dream, Ibrahim, he rose from his bed, went out into the night, and approached the palace magically rising from the waste ground beyond the city. He walked until he stood beside the Arab builder. One of the chief workmen approached and addressed the stranger–by name!

Then it was Ibrahim understood–and he awoke. The sun was streaming in through the lattice of his bedroom. He sprang from his bed and looked out upon a magnificent spectacle. Beyond the city the sun’s rays were reflected by a dazzling array of gilded domes and shining towers of marble that he had seen built in his dream. He went out and quickly went to the palace he had seen in his dream. Ibrahim and the wealthy merchant arrived before the gates at the same moment. They stood speechless with amazement and admiration before the model of the Arab grown to immense proportions.

Almost at the same moment, the gates, ornamented with beaten gold, opened and the Arab builder stood before them. Ibrahim bent his head in respect.

The Arab builder addressed the merchant. “Have I fulfilled my promise and earned my freedom?” he asked.

“That you have,” answered the merchant.

“Then farewell, and may blessings rest on you and the good Ibrahim and on all your works.”

In this way spoke the Arab builder blessed them. Then he disappeared within the golden doors.

The wealthy merchant and Ibrahim followed quickly, but though they went through the halls and corridors of many colored marbles, in and out of rooms lighted by windows of clearest crystal, and up and down staircases of burnished metal, they could find no one. As they left the palace, they saw a huge crowd standing outside the gates.

“Tell me,” asked the wealthy merchant, “who was the builder of this magic palace.”

“Eliyahu ha Novi (Elijah, the Prophet),” said Ibrahim, “the benefactor of mankind, who revisits the earth to assist in their distress those deemed worthy. Blessed am I, and blessed are you for your good deeds, for we have been truly honored.”

To show his gratitude, the merchant gave a banquet in his palace to all the people in the city and scattered gold and silver pieces among the crowds that filled the streets.

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 Magic Palace

Posted on Tuesday, 2, June, 2020Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

Ibrahim, the most learned and pious man of the city, whom everybody held in high esteem, fell on troubled days. He told no one of his sufferings, for he was proud and would have been honour bound to refuse the help which he knew would have been offered to him. His noble wife and five faithful sons suffered in silence, but Ibrahim was sorely troubled when he saw their clothes wearing away to rags and their bodies wasting with hunger.

One day Ibrahim sat to study from the Holy Book, but he could not see the words on the pages. His eyes were dimmed with tears and his thoughts were far away. He was dreaming of a region where hunger and thirst and lack of clothes and shelter were unknown. He sighed loudly and his wife heard.

“My dear husband,” she said to him gently, “we are starving. You must go and look for work for the sake of our children.”

“You are right and I must find a way to ease your pain” he answered, sadly, but how can I go out in these worn clothes? Who will hire a man dressed like this?”

“I will ask our kind neighbors to lend you some clothes and was successful in obtaining the loan of a cloak which completely covered Ibrahim and restored to him his dignified appearance.

His good wife encouraged him with prayers and words. He took his staff and set out with heart filled with a great hope. All people greeted the learned Ibrahim, for it was not often he was seen walking the busy streets of the city. He returned their greetings with kindly smiles, but he did not stop. He had no wish to ask his neighbors for help, who would no doubt have gladly assisted him. He desired to go among strangers and work so that he should not be beholden to anyone.

Beyond the city gates, where the palm trees grew and the camels trudged lazily toward the distant desert, he was suddenly approached by a stranger dressed as an Arab.

“O learned and holy man of the city,” he said, “command me, for I am your slave.” At the same time he made a low bow before Ibrahim.

“My slave!” returned Ibrahim, in surprise. “You make fun of me stranger. I am very poor and I am looking for the opportunity to sell myself, even as a slave, to any man who will provide food and clothing for my wife and children.”

“Do not sell yourself,” said the Arab. “Offer me for sale instead. I am a skillful builder. Look at these plans of my skill and handiwork.”

From beneath the folds of his flowing robes, the Arab produced a scroll and a box and held them out to Ibrahim. On the scroll were drawn designs of stately buildings. Within the box was an beautiful model of a palace, a marvelous piece of work, perfect in every detail and workmanship. Ibrahim examined the scroll and model with great care.

“I have never seen anything so beautiful,” he admitted. ” It is indeed a work of art. You must indeed be a wondrous craftsman. From where do you come?”

“It does not matter” replied the Arab. “I am your slave. Is there not in this city some rich merchant or nobleman who needs the services of such talents as I have? Seek him out and sell me and my services to him. To you they will listen while they will ignore me.”

Ibrahim pondered over this strange request for a while.

“Agreed!” he said, at length.

Together they returned to the city. There Ibrahim asked around the bazaar where the wealthy traders met to discuss their affairs, and soon learned of a wealthy merchant in precious stones, a man known for his kind deeds and charity who was excited to build a very fine home. He called upon the jewel merchant.

“Noble sir,” he said, “I hear that you want to build a palace the like of which this city has never seen, a structure that will be an everlasting joy to its owner, a delight to all who gaze upon it, and which will bring recognition to this city.”

“That is so,” said the merchant. “You have interpreted the desire of my heart as if you had read its deep secrets. I would truly dedicate to the uses of the building as a business center and a center of goodness to bring a good name upon the city.”

“It is well,” returned Ibrahim. “I have brought to you an architect and builder of the highest abilities. Examine his plans and designs. If they please you, as assuredly they will, purchase the man from me, for he is my slave and servant.”

The merchant could not understand the plans on the scroll, but on the model in the box he feasted his eyes for several minutes in speechless amazement.

“It is indeed remarkable,” he said at last. “I will give you eighty thousand gold pieces for your servant and slave, who must build for me just such a palace.”

Ibrahim immediately informed the Arab, who at once consented to perform the task, and then the pious man hurried to return home to his wife and children with the good news and the money, which made him rich for the rest of his days.

To the builder the merchant pledged, “You will gain your freedom if you will succeed in building me a fine home. Begin at once. I will hire craftsmen and the laborers.”

“I need no workmen,” was the Arab’s singular reply. “Take me to the land where where you wish me to build, and tomorrow your palace shall be finished.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Even as I say,” answered the Arab.

The sun was setting in golden glory when they reached the ground, and pointing to the sky the Arab said: “Tomorrow, when the great sun rises above the distant hills, its rays will strike the towers and domes of your palace, noble sir. Leave me now. I must pray.”

The merchant left the stranger and was amazed by the words of the builder. From a distance he watched the man piously praying. He had made up his mind to watch all the night; but when the moon rose, a deep sleep overcame him and he dreamed. He dreamed that he saw many men swarming about the area with strange machines and scaffolding which grew higher and higher, hiding a vast structure.

Ibrahim dreamed, too, but in his vision one figure, that of the Arab, stood out above all other things. Ibrahim scanned the features of the stranger closely; he followed, as it were, the man’s every movement. He noticed how all the workmen and particularly the supervisors greatly honouered and respected the stranger. From heavens a bright light shined on the scene and surrounded the Arab builder.

In his dream, Ibrahim, he rose from his bed, went out into the night, and approached the palace magically rising from the waste ground beyond the city. He walked until he stood beside the Arab builder. One of the chief workmen approached and addressed the stranger–by name!

Then it was Ibrahim understood–and he awoke. The sun was streaming in through the lattice of his bedroom. He sprang from his bed and looked out upon a magnificent spectacle. Beyond the city the sun’s rays were reflected by a dazzling array of gilded domes and shining towers of marble that he had seen built in his dream. He went out and quickly went to the palace he had seen in his dream. Ibrahim and the wealthy merchant arrived before the gates at the same moment. They stood speechless with amazement and admiration before the model of the Arab grown to immense proportions.

Almost at the same moment, the gates, ornamented with beaten gold, opened and the Arab builder stood before them. Ibrahim bent his head in respect.

The Arab builder addressed the merchant. “Have I fulfilled my promise and earned my freedom?” he asked.

“That you have,” answered the merchant.

“Then farewell, and may blessings rest on you and the good Ibrahim and on all your works.”

In this way spoke the Arab builder blessed them. Then he disappeared within the golden doors.

The wealthy merchant and Ibrahim followed quickly, but though they went through the halls and corridors of many colored marbles, in and out of rooms lighted by windows of clearest crystal, and up and down staircases of burnished metal, they could find no one. As they left the palace, they saw a huge crowd standing outside the gates.

“Tell me,” asked the wealthy merchant, “who was the builder of this magic palace.”

“Eliyahu ha Novi (Elijah, the Prophet),” said Ibrahim, “the benefactor of mankind, who revisits the earth to assist in their distress those deemed worthy. Blessed am I, and blessed are you for your good deeds, for we have been truly honored.”

To show his gratitude, the merchant gave a banquet in his palace to all the people in the city and scattered gold and silver pieces among the crowds that filled the streets.

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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The Muddy Path to Paradise

Posted on Sunday, 3, May, 2020Wednesday, 8, November, 2023 by Rabbi

Tam and Chacham had a custom of visiting various communities, where they would stay in the homes of wealthy members of the community while they collected charity for those less fortunate.

In one of the cities that Tam and Chacham would visit, there lived a wealthy merchant. The merchant owned a large mansion with many rooms, whenever he heard of the Tam and Chacham’s arrival in his city, he made sure that his mansion was locked. Well aware of the tendency of Tam and Chacham to stay at the homes of the wealthy, where there was ample room to welcome the many people who wanted to speak to Tam and Chacham about many different things. The merchant would quickly leave his mansion, many times claiming that he has to go to a last-minute business meeting. He preferred that his house be left alone.

The suddenness of the appearance of Tam and Chacham in his city caught the merchant, along with his wide-open mansion, off guard. Left with no choice, he reluctantly surrendered his house so that it could serve as the base where people could come to see Tam and Chacham to recieve advice blessings or to offer charity.

A few days later, the Tam and Chacham asked the merchant: “Tell us the truth, are you not happy with the fact that we are staying here?”

“Both of you are my honoured guests. In fact you bring blessings to my home” replied the merchant earnestly. “I am thrilled to be hosting you and delighted that you chose to stay at my house. The problem I have does not lie with you but rather with the all those people who want to speak to you. You see, when you come, they come. And when they come, along comes the mud, dust and muck from the streets. The very thought of all that grime on my clean floors and furniture just horrifies me. “It was never because of you, G‑d forbid. The idea of the mud has always been off-putting to me.”

Tam and Chacham thought for a moment and them Tam began to speak:

“There once lived a doctor who was very very wealthy and an active sinner. He managed to transgress almost all of the Torah’s prohibitions. After a long life of pleasure, the doctor was greeted in heaven by the horde of prosecuting angels that he managed to create throughout his lifetime of sins. Their loud, emphatic accusations and protests challenged the heavens to find a sliver of virtue for his poor soul.

“Suddenly, an angel appeared before the heavenly court and began to tell an account of kindness that transpired in the doctor’s youth: It once happened that a man’s wagon, overloaded with merchandise, keeled over in the road. The horse was pinned to the ground and the wagon driver, unable to raise the upended wagon by himself, stood by helplessly as he waited for aid that did not seem to come. However, continued the angel, the young doctor happened to be traveling down the same road. And when the wagon driver’s misfortune met his eyes, the doctor stopped to assist the grateful man. Only after the two successfully managed to turn the overloaded cart so that it was upright on its wheels, did the doctor continue on his journey.

“Immediately after the angel concluded his story, a horse and wagon overloaded with merchandise were placed on the empty pan dangling from the Heavenly scales of justice, which had been tilted heavily on the side of sins. Helped by the new weight, the balance shifted towards the center. But the lifetime of sins still outweighed the single good deed.

“We demand that the mud and soil be added to the scale as well,’ chorused the good angels. ‘After all, he had to extract the wagon from the muck, didn’t he?’ But the prosecuting angels vehemently insisted that the doctor had nothing to do with the mud, which had no direct relevance to him. The heavenly court therefore decided to send the doctor’s soul back to this world to determine whether mud holds any significance for his soul. If so, mud would be placed on the heavenly scale on the side of merits. But if not …”

Tam paused his story and fixed his gaze on the merchant.

“You possess the soul of that doctor, and your evil inclination is working overtime not to allow that mud into your house. “

Upon hearing these words from Tam, the merchant ran to the door and began pleading to the people waiting outside. “Come in, come in,” he cried. “Come as you are and greet our honored guests.”

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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Too Much – Part II The Reward

Posted on Tuesday, 31, March, 2020Tuesday, 31, March, 2020 by Rabbi

“There is no time to rest now. I will have the rest of my life for that, but today I must run. What I work for now will be mine to keep forever.”

Yosef jumped up and began again to run, driven to cover more of the lush, green land. Finally, he stood on top of a beautiful hill and realized he was very hot. Straight overhead the warm afternoon sun was beating down upon his head. He had been working very hard all morning, too busy to notice the sun’s steady progress across the sky.

With the sun high in the sky, he realized, “High noon! It’s midday. I’ve got to turn back. Why I’ve already spent half a day on my journey, and I must be back before sundown. It’s time to turn around. I haven’t a moment to lose!”

Yosef looked ahead of him at what was probably the most beautiful sight he had seen yet. A meadow greener than any he had ever seen lay below him. Surrounded by trees of all types, it seemed a magical place, as animals played in the tall grass and birds flew majestically overhead, singing pleasant songs.

“How can I give up this valley?” said Yosef, looking worriedly over his shoulder at the sun high overhead. “I know I have more time than this. After all, I didn’t leave in the morning until the sun had been up for at least a while. I probably still have more time before I must turn back.”

Greed and envy pushed him on, and Yosef continued through what was truly a splendid meadow. Half an hour later, he stood on the other side and saw sights even more beautiful. This time Yosef admonished himself, “No, I must not be persuaded by thoughts of greed and envy. The hour is well past noon, the sun is past the high point in the sky. I must turn back now, otherwise I will never be back before sundown.”

Yosef took the stick he had been carrying, plunged it deep into the ground, and made sure it held fast. The red handkerchief waved in the wind. He had finally marked off his spot.

Yosef knew that it was definitely time to turn around. He took one last, longing look at the valleys and hills ahead of him, but in a panic said, “No, I can’t have it. I already have hundreds of acres, and now I must stop.”

With a great sigh, Yosef began to run home, one firm purpose guiding him, one goal he could not fail to attain: he must be back before sundown. His heart raced, his blood pulsed quickly, and his legs covered the miles in leaps and bounds. Whereas before he was too preoccupied to look at the sun, now he was almost obsessed by it. He checked its progress constantly.

It seemed to Yosef that he was running with even greater speed than in the morning. No longer distracted by the delightful sights he passed, he sprinted across the grass in the hot summer afternoon. He did not even notice how his body was becoming parched and dry. He had not eaten anything all day, but was unaware of the fatigue that overwhelmed his body. He began to stumble and fall often now, and that could not escape his notice.

“What is happening to me? Am I losing my strength? I can’t slow down now!” Yosef continued ahead. He fell again, harder this time. Yosef picked himself up and felt a stab of pain in his leg. “I’ll have time to deal with the pain later,” he assured himself. “I’ll have the best doctors. I’ll have anything that I could possibly desire. Right now I must work harder than I ever have!”

Yosef reached way down into the storehouses of energy and strength that lay deep within him. He began to recognize where he was. It was just a few miles from his final destination. He looked towards the horizon to check if he could see the Euphrates River in the distance. How sweet a sight it would be to see his master, Mr. Parnas, standing just ahead of him!

“He can’t be far off now,” Yosef consoled himself as he squinted to catch sight of him. The sun was setting and it was quite late already, and Yosef was becoming frantic. His mind vividly played out a terrible scenario over and over: his master stood waiting for him as day turned into night and the sun hid itself from the moon; yet Yosef never returned!

Confusion overcame him. “Perhaps I’ve been running in the wrong direction. But that’s impossible. The sun is behind me. I must be going in the right direction. Or am I?”

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Yosef could not take time to stop and decide. He continued to run in desperation, tripping and falling all the while.

At long last Yosef spotted the welcome sight of the Euphrates River off in the distance. He thought he could make out the shape of Mr. Parnas standing there. But how much time was left?

Yosef was aching, every muscle and joint screamed out in pain. His head throbbed and his breathing was erratic as he fought for control. Yosef was in deep trouble. With still a mile or two to go, the sun began to touch the horizon, only minutes left before sundown.

Yosef shrieked, “No, this can’t be happening.” He ran more frenzied than ever towards the little dot on the horizon that stood on the bank of the Euphrates River. Sadly, the inevitable happened, and Yosef fell. Only this time he had not tripped; his body had given out. This time Yosef did not get up. On that very spot, early the next morning, the people gathered for Yosef’s burial.

We learn that “envy, lust and [the desire for] honor can put a man out of the world” (Pirkei Avos 4:21). The chase after material wealth and the respect that we assume comes with being wealthy can actually destroy a person. Some people spend endless amounts of energy wishing and dreaming about how wonderful it would be to be rich. Some actually spend lifetimes in the pursuit of the riches they think will make them happy. However, the truth is that no matter how much a person already has, there is always more to be gotten, and if we always look for more wealth, honour and fame, we will never be satisfied with what we have. If we can learn to see the good in what we already have and appreciate it, then we will be happy and feel wealthy as well. As we are taught, “Who is rich? He who rejoices in his lot, as it is said: “You shall enjoy the fruit of your labors, you shall be happy and you shall prosper” (Psalms 128:2).” (Pirkei Avos 4:1)

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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Too Much – Part I The Promise

Posted on Sunday, 29, March, 2020Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

Part II The Reward will be posted Tuesday 31 March

All around them was the beauty and splendor of the valley. At their feet stood the mighty Euphrates River, majestically stretching from horizon to horizon. There they stood, Mr. Parnas and his ever faithful servant, Yosef. “Yosef, my dear man, you have served faithfully in my family for many years now. Over the years you have worked hard and long on our behalf. I know that many times you had to set aside your own wants and needs because your help was necessary on the estate.

“Yosef, I know too that the great wealth which this family possesses has at times overwhelmed you. Perhaps it was difficult to continue working to protect our wealth when your family was not gaining equally from your efforts. I believe you quickly chased away the momentary envy that may have crossed your mind.

“That is why I have always trusted you, and that is why I wish to reward you today. Look around you, Yosef. Look at the beautiful fertile land that surrounds you: hills, valleys, lush green meadows. I would like to share this wealth with you, Yosef; however, I want you to earn the land that will be yours. You will determine how much or how little is sufficient and, therefore, will not have cause to question it in the future. Rather the land will be more precious to you, as it will be acquired through your efforts.”

There was a glisten in Yosef’s eyes. He loved Mr. Parnas. Mr. Parnas had always been so kind, and now Yosef realized with a tinge of embarrassment that Mr. Parnas even understood his secret feelings. It was true. Sometimes it was difficult to continue working for what was not his, even though Mr. Parnas would hint at a reward that would come some day.

“Yosef,” continued Mr. Parnas, “we stand here, the two of us alone, at the great Euphrates River. I want you to look north. What do you see?”

“Why, Master, I see beautiful hills and valleys just like you spoke of.”

“And to the south, what do you see there?”

“I see flowing streams and fields, golden with harvest.”

“And east and west?”

“There I see orchards, heavy with fruit, and gardens, well- tended, yielding delicious produce.”

“Yes, Yosef, and you shall have part of all that. We possess thousands and thousands of acres in almost every direction. Today I will share it with you. Here is what I suggest, Yosef. It’s early in the morning now, just after sunrise, and I brought you here with one purpose in mind. I want you to begin walking, or running if you like, but go as far as you want. Every step that you take will be a step that will represent permanent ownership of that land.

“If you travel one half mile north, then all of the land from here, the foot of this river, until one half mile north will be yours; its boundaries east and west will be as far as your eye can see. If you choose to travel further in this short day, then more land will be yours.”

Then Mr. Parnas reached for a little pole which had a red handkerchief tied to the end of it. “This, Yosef,” he said, “is your flag. I want you to take this and run with it and go as far as you desire; and when you reach that place, put the flag in the ground and then come back to me. All that land will be yours.

“But there is one thing, Yosef, I want you to think about before you begin. When you pass through all this beautiful land, I want you to think carefully about how far you want to go. Then just before midday, I want you to put the pole in the ground and come back to me. You have only until sundown to report back to me here, at the foot of this mountain, and tell me where the flag is. Then we will go out the next day and mark off the boundaries, and all the land will be yours. But you must come back before sundown. Do you understand?”

“Yes, of course, Master, I understand.”

“Wait, just one minute,” said Mr. Parnas. And like a loving parent who wants to ensure his child’s success, he repeated, “I want you to take this very seriously. This will affect the rest of your life. Remember, you are to put the flag in the ground and then turn around and come back before sundown! I wish you the best of luck.”

What a moment! Yosef looked all about, almost embarrassed to run. He took a few tentative steps, ever so carefully and slowly at first. Then he turned around again to look at Mr. Parnas who was shooing him on.

Suddenly, Yosef began to sprint. Thirty yards away, Yosef suddenly tripped. He looked back, chuckled at his master, wiped himself off and then continued to run.

Within a short while, Yosef was out of sight. When he reached the top of a large hill, he looked back, but his master was only a dot on the horizon. The beautiful valley that lay ahead of him seemed to stretch on forever.

“I’ve come so far; look what is now mine! How can I ever thank Mr. Parnas,” thought Yosef. “I could stop here and live with my family on this beautiful spot of land forever. There I could plant fields of my own crops, build a beautiful, little house .”

But then a nagging thought crossed Yosef’s mind, a thought that was going to pester and gnaw away at his better judgment. “But there is so much more yet ahead of me. I could be even wealthier,” he reasoned.

Yosef picked up the flag, held it high and decided that he would run a little further. Ahead of him was a whole array of hills. Yosef’s head was spinning with new ideas. “Why at the top of that hill, I could have my lookout tower; that very next hill could be the site of my windmill!” The possibilities seemed endless.

Finally, when it seemed that three quarters of the morning had passed, Yosef stopped to rest at one of the beautiful creeks and took a drink. “One day,” he envisioned, “I will sit here with my children and grandchildren and fish at my creek. It would be nice to own the land on both sides of this creek so that I could build a little summer hideaway for my grandchildren on the other side of the river.

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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“Rabbi, holy rabbi, have mercy on me! Please, give me some money so I can have something to eat for myself and my children on Shabbos!” With these words, the woman who had burst into the rabbi’s house broke out into tears. “I don’t have a penny to buy food for my orphan children!”

“Why didn’t you come yesterday,” said the holy rabbi, “when I was giving tzedakah (charity) to all the poor people for Shabbos? Today, I don’t have even a copper coin to give you!”

“No good!” cried the rabbi.” Chas v’chalila (Heaven forbid) someone would say that Hashem’s apples are no good? What do they mean?”

“Rabbi,” she pleaded, “I call out: ‘Apples, apples, delicious apples that have a taste like the Garden of Eden.’ But they say the apples are bad!”

The rabbi asked the poor woman where her stand was in the marketplace and told her to go back there, promising her that she would have money for what she needed for Shabbos.

When people heard that the holy rabbi of the town was selling apples, a crowd quickly gathered at the widow’s stand. Everyone wanted to buy apples from the rabbi. In only a few minutes, all the apples were sold.

Waldorf Salad Recipe

Ingredients

½ cup mayonnaise

3 medium Granny Smith/Green apples — cored, and chopped

1 tablespoon white sugar

1 cup thinly sliced celery

1 teaspoon lemon juice

½ cup chopped walnuts

⅛ teaspoon salt

½ cup raisins

Note: ½ cup dried Cranberries or dried cherries can be used in place of raisins

Directions

In a medium bowl, whisk together the mayonnaise, sugar, lemon juice, and salt.

Stir in the apples, celery, walnuts, and raisins.

Chill until ready to serve.

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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Please share this story with others

Part II – A Blessing Realized and Meeting the Rabbi

The following morning, the baker took his sav¬ings and hastened to the auction. The house proved to be no great attraction by the look of it; it was old and run-down. No wonder there were very few peo¬ple who were eager to make a bid for it.

The bidding started low, and when the baker raised his offer to an amount he felt he could scrape together by selling his bakery, there was no one who was prepared to outbid him. So his modest offer was accepted, and he put down the money he had with him as a deposit.

The rabbi arrived in Istanbul where he was duly received with honor and affection. The head of the Jewish community invited him to be his guest for as long as he would care to stay.

While questioning about the needs and concerns of the Jewish community, the rabbi asked his host if there was anything he could do help the community while he was in Istanbul. The head of the community heaved a deep sigh and replied:

The rabbi readily agreed to go along with the delegation.

The rabbi looked as much surprised as eve-ryone present.

Returning to his seat, the effendi asked everyone to be seated, and said, “I am now ready to hear your request.”

The head of the Jewish community then told the effendi about the difficult situation the community faced if the harsh decrees were put into effect. He begged the effendi to use his influence at the royal court to persuade the Sultan to rescind them.

“I give you my word,” the effendi promised, “that I shall not rest until I carry out your request.” Then he added, “Now, honorable representatives, please excuse me while I speak for a while to the distinguished guest from Tunisia.”

Thereupon the effendi led the rabbi to a private room, and when they were both seated, began at once:

“I see that the rabbi is puzzled to see me so moved by our meeting. Let me remind you of something that happened many years ago. In Tunis, across the street from your house there lived a baker. Once, in the middle of the night, the rabbi needed a light…”

A happy smile appeared on the rabbi’s face. Of course he remembered that night, and he now realized that the baker and the effendi were one and the same person.

“As you see, holy Rabbi, your blessing came true, beyond my wildest expectations.”

Having told his story to the rabbi, the effendi produced a purse filled with golden coins and said, “I would consider it a privilege if the rabbi would accept this as a personal gift.”

The rabbi declined it with thanks, assuring the effendi that all his needs have been provided for.

Before parting, the effendi begged the rabbi to bless him again that his good fortune should con¬tinue to shine on him.

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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Part I – A Lamp and a Blessing

One night, he was distressed to find that he had no way to light his oil lamp. Then he remembered that his Arab neighbor, the baker, probably still had a fire in his oven. So the Rabbi went across the street and knocked on the baker’s door, hoping he might still be awake.

The baker had already gone to bed and was fast asleep. The Rabbi kept on knocking until the baker finally opened the door and demanded, sleepily, to know why he was being disturbed in the middle of the night.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” answered the rabbi apologetically, “but I need a light for my lamp.”

There were still some flickering coals in the oven, so the baker kindled a firebrand and gave it to the rabbi.

The rabbi thanked the baker and left. He had hardly crossed the street when the wind blew out the firebrand. As much as he hated to bother the baker again, the rabbi made his way back to the bakery and knocked again on the door.

The sleepy baker got out of bed again and opened the door, looking surprised and annoyed.

“Please forgive me for troubling you again, but the wind blew out the light. I am very sorry…”

Muttering to himself, the baker went to fetch a freshly lit kindling stick, and gave it to the Rabbi without a word. The rabbi thanked him very much, wished him a very good night, and left.

This time he reached his door successfully, but just as he was about to open it, a gust of wind blew out the light again.

“Enough is enough,” a voice inside of him said, “give up and go to bed!”

“Oh no!” The rabbi heard himself say, determined that he would not let anything keep him from his holy studies. He turned around and went to his Arab neighbor for the third time.

Not surprisingly, the baker was frustrated this time, and he opened his door to the rabbi saying:

“With all due respect to you, honorable rabbi, it is the middle of the night and I work from early morning until late afternoon. Every time you knock I have to lift this heavy iron bar to open the door for you.”

“Believe me, I am truly sorry to cause you so much trouble, but it is most important that I can light my lamp to study G-d’s holy word. The Holy One, blessed be He will surely reward you for your good deed with so much gold that would outweigh by far that heavy iron bar!”

The Arab baker had a great respect for the holy rabbi’s blessing. His frustration disappeared and, he observed, “I see you are not used to handling firebrands; this time I’ll take it across for you and make sure that your lamp is lit.”

Saying this, the baker put on his coat, took a burning kindling stick and sheltering it with his coat, successfully brought it into the Rabbi’s house and lit his lamp.

Happy to have received such a wonderful bless¬ing from the holy rabbi, the baker returned home, while the rabbi sat down with a grateful heart and immersed himself in his holy study.

The baker had no doubt that the rabbi’s bless¬ing would be fulfilled. But day followed day and nothing happened. He continued to sweat at his oven, scraping coal, but not gold.

“I guess I am not worthy of the rabbi’s blessing; I’d better forget all about it,” the baker concluded sadly.

One day, as he took a stroll towards the bazaar to cool off and catch a breath of fresh air, a stranger approached him and asked him if he was looking for work.

“I have a job. I’m a baker, and while it brings me no riches, I make a living, thanks to the Holy One, blessed be He.”

“I see you’re an honest man,” said the stranger. “I need a man like you for my business. What if I offered you five times the amount you earn from your bakery; would you be interested to work for me for a few months?”

“If it’s just for a few months, I’d first have to find someone to take over my bakery for that period of time.”

“Good,” said the stranger. “Let’s meet here tomorrow at the same time.”

The following day, when the baker arrived at the arranged meeting place, the stranger was already there waiting for him.

“I’m ready to start working for you,” the baker announced.

“Very good, come with me.”

The stranger led the baker through a maze of unfamiliar winding streets, uphill and downhill, turning now right now left, until he finally stopped in a side alley.