The Mountain of Treasures – A Jewish Tale from Morocco Part II

Posted on Wednesday, 3, November, 2021Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

The next morning cries for help were heard from inside the mountain, and when it was discovered that the princess was missing, the king understood it must be the voice of his daughter they heard. Then he commanded his soldiers to take shovels and pickaxes to dig into the mountain to pull her out. Sadly, every shovel and pickaxe broke against the mountain, and before long even the king accepted they would never save the princess that way. Then the king announced that anyone who could free the princess would be wed to her and would also receive half his kingdom. Many journeyed to the mountain and sought to free the princess one way or another, but none of them succeeded in making the mountain open, and the princess remained trapped inside.

Now in that kingdom there was a clever lad whose name was Yosef, and although his family was poor, he always managed to find something so that they never went hungry. One day Yosef was walking in the marketplace when he heard an old woman cry out that she had an oud to sell. But everyone who looked at the oud only laughed in her face, for it was very old and battered, and besides, it was missing all of its strings. Now Yosef had only three copper coins in his pocket, but he said to himself: “The oud is old and worn, but I could polish it, and someday, when I have more money, I will buy strings and play it.”

So Yosef approached the old woman, and offered three copper coins for the old oud. The old woman accepted the offer at once. Then she motioned for him to come closer, and she whispered in his ear: “This is a fine oud you have bought, my lad, for it is a magic oud. But for it to perform its magic, it requires golden strings, for no others will do.” Then the old woman turned to go and disappeared in the crowded marketplace. And even though Yosef ran after her, he could not find her, and he was sorry she had left before he could ask her what kind of magic the oud could do, and now it was too late.

It was at that time that the princess had become trapped in the golden mountain, and the king sought help in setting her free. Like many others, Yosef liked to imagine how wonderful it would be if he was the one who freed her. And even though he had no idea how to do this, Yosef decided to go to the golden mountain to see for himself. So he took leave of his parents, took his only possession, the stringless oud, and set out on his journey.

Meanwhile the princess had begun to despair of ever escaping from the cavern. At first she had hoped that those trying to get her out would succeed, for she was able to listen to all their comments with the aid of her magic seashell. In this way she soon discovered that they had failed, and learned that the king, in his desperation, had offered her hand to whoever succeeded in releasing her. Then it occurred to the princess that she might be able to open the mountain from within by pronouncing the spell, but this too failed, for the spell was effective only from the outside. Soon after she had become trapped there, she searched through the cavern of treasures to see if there was anything to eat or drink, and she found a spring deep in the cavern, which had its source inside the mountain. So, too, did she find growing next to it a carob tree, which sustained her. And to pass the time she put the golden seashell to her ear, and heard in it all that her parents and others in the kingdom said about her, and learned how much they grieved over what had happened. So too did she listen to the lectures of wise men all over the world, for she had not lost her love for learning. And in this way several months passed, with the princess no nearer to freedom than she was in the first place.

Then one day the boy Yosef arrived at the golden mountain. He saw the crowds that gathered there during the day, because what had happened to the princess had made it a famous place. But when it grew dark, they all left and returned to town, leaving Yosef alone there, for he had nowhere else to go. He found a place for himself on the ground and was about to go to sleep when he suddenly saw something glint in the moonlight. And when he arose and went over to see what it was, he was amazed to find a long, golden thread—the very one that had become caught in the thorn bush as the princess had entered the cavern. Yosef carefully pulled the golden thread from the bush without pricking his fingers on the thorns, and when he had it in his hand it occurred to him that he might try to string his oud with it. For, after all, the old woman had told him its magic would work only with golden strings. And when he had strung the oud, he found that the golden thread was just long enough to serve for all its strings.

So it was that as midnight arrived Yosef plucked the strings of the magic oud for the first time. And all at once it sang out with a melodious voice, almost human, and each time he plucked a string, it sang out another word, of something that sounded to Yosef like a spell. Suddenly he heard a loud rumbling. Then the princess, who had heard every word pronounced by the magic oud with the aid of the golden shell, hurried outside, and ran straight to the boy who had released her, and embraced him, and thanked him again and again for setting her free.

Then Yosef and the princess returned to the palace, he with his magic oud, and she with her magic seashell, and when the king saw that his beloved daughter had been freed, he was overjoyed. So too did he keep his promise, and soon there was a lavish wedding at which Yosef and the princess were wed. And the princess soon found out that the clever Yosef loved to learn as much as she did, and she taught him all that she knew, so that one day he became the wise ruler of that kingdom, where he was admired and respected by all.

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 Mountain of Treasures – A Jewish Tale from Morocco Part I

Posted on Monday, 1, November, 2021Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

Part II will be posted on 3 November 2021

Many years ago, there was a king who ruled over a vast kingdom and was believed by many to be the wealthiest man in the world. This king had a daughter who was curious to know about everything—why the sun rises and sets, why spring follows winter, why the moon is full at sometimes and is only a sliver at others. So, it was that when the princess learned there was a wise and ancient man in their kingdom who knew of revealed and hidden things on the earth and in the heavens, she begged her father to bring him to the palace to teach her what he knew.

Now the king’s daughter was very precious to him, and he was especially proud that she loved to learn. So, he sent a messenger in a fine carriage to bring the ancient wise man to the palace. When the old man arrived, he was taken to the king at once. The king said to him: “It is known that you possess ancient knowledge of what can be seen and that which is hidden. I would like you to reveal these secrets to my daughter, the princess, who has a great thirst for knowledge. As your reward, I shall build you a fine study from which you explore the wonders of the world.”

Then the ancient wise man said: “I agree to teach the princess on these terms, but there must be two more conditions — that no one else be present while I instruct her and at the end of one year I will return to my home.” The king agreed to these conditions, and the ancient wise man began to teach the princess about many mysterious and wonderful things. The princess listened carefully to everything he had to say and proved to be a fine student. At the end of one year the ancient wise man had taught the princess many lessons, and when he returned to his home he found the study had already been built, as the king had promised.

Some time passed, and the princess learned that there was a mountain, the Montaña Otzaroth, that had a vast treasure hidden within it, and that only one person in the world knew how to enter it. After much study, she learned that this was none other than the ancient wise man who had taught her many wonders and mysteries.

The princess went to her father, the king, and begged him to send for the ancient wise man so that he could reveal the secret of where the Montaña Otzaroth could be found, and how it could be entered. The king agreed to his daughter’s request and sent a messenger in a fine carriage to bring the ancient wise man back to the palace. When the ancient wise man arrived, the king told him what his daughter had discovered and asked him to reveal the secret of the Montaña Otzaroth to her.

At first the ancient wise man hesitated, for he knew that not all knowledge and secrets are meant to be learned. He knew that there were dangers associated with the Montaña Otzaroth. The king could not disappoint his daughter and so he begged the ancient wise man until he agreed to reveal the secret to the princess, but on the condition, as before, that no one else be present.

When the ancient wise man met with the princess, she begged him to take her to the Montaña Otzaroth that very night. “In that case,” the ancient wise man told her, “We must hurry, for we have to be there exactly at midnight.” So it was that the two of them made their way in complete darkness and reached the mountain at the appointed time. There the ancient wise man uttered a few words, which caused a large stone of the mountain to move with much rumbling, so that they could enter the cavern. The ancient wise man said, “Be warned, princess, that the mountain will remain open for only half an hour, and we must return before half past midnight, for then the stone will close, and if we have not departed from the cavern, we will be trapped there.”

Inside the mountain the princess saw treasures that were greater than those in the treasuries of her father, the king. She saw golden apples, silver raindrops, and diamonds shaped like snowflakes. She was dazzled by the unimaginable beauty she saw there and would not have remembered to take her leave had the ancient wise man not reminded her. And shortly after they left the cavern, the stone entrance closed. Then they returned to the palace. As the ancient wise man left to return to his home, he said, “Take care, princess, if you ever decide to return to the Montaña Otzaroth, most importantly, never forget to leave on time.”

The following night the princess decided she wanted to return to the Montaña Otzaroth, for just as they were leaving the night before she had glimpsed a golden seashell so beautiful that she had dreamed about it all night, and now she wanted to make it her own. She traveled there by herself, and when she reached the mountain it was almost midnight, and she repeated the words that the ancient wise man had uttered, for she had listened very carefully while he had spoken. Once again there was a great rumbling, and the stone moved, and she was able to enter the mountain.

In the darkness her gown caught on a thorn bush as she entered, and a single golden thread became unraveled, though the princess did not notice this.

Inside the mountain, the eyes of the princess were again so dazzled by the many treasures that she almost forgot about the golden seashell she had come there to find, and soon she held it in her hand. It looked like an actual seashell of the most beautiful kind in every respect, except it was made entirely of gold. Knowing that real seashells echo the sea, the princess held the golden shell to her ear, and to her amazement she heard voices speaking there. That is how she discovered it was a magic seashell in which she could hear anything being said anywhere in the world. If she held it in one position, she would hear one conversation, and if she moved it ever so slightly, another would take its place. Now the princess was fascinated by this magic shell and did not notice the swift passage of time. Suddenly she realized it was time for her to leave the cavern, and she rushed to the entrance, but it was too late—the entrance to the cavern was closed, and she was trapped inside the Montaña Otzaroth.

The next morning cries for help were heard from inside the mountain, and when it was discovered that the princess was missing, the king understood it must be the voice of his daughter they heard. Then he commanded his soldiers to take shovels and pickaxes to dig into the mountain to pull her out. Sadly, every shovel and pickaxe broke against the mountain, and before long even the king accepted they would never save the princess that way. Then the king announced that anyone who could free the princess would be wed to her and would also receive half his kingdom. Many journeyed to the mountain and sought to free the princess one way or another, but none of them succeeded in making the mountain open, and the princess remained trapped inside.

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 and the Beast – A Jewish Tale from old Cairo

Posted on Tuesday, 10, August, 2021Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

There once was a wealthy man and wife who longed, more than anything else, to have a child of their own. Over the years they had tried every known remedy in order to conceive, including potions of every kind, but still the couple was without children. Now the man, who was a merchant, heard from others that there was a wise old man among the Jews, whose name was Elijah, who could help them have a child. And when they had exhausted every other means, the merchant and his wife went to the Jewish Quarter of Cairo and sought out the old man.

They found that Elijah lived in an almost empty hut in the poorest part of the quarter. He possessed nothing except for the robe he wore and a prayer book. The merchant and his wife wondered to themselves how such a poor man could be of help to them. Still, they were desperate, so they told the old man how much they longed to have a child, and they offered to pay him whatever he asked if he could help them. Elijah said, “What do you want, a son or a daughter?” The merchant replied, “More than anything else in the world, I want to have a son of my own.” Then Elijah told them to bring him pen and paper, and when they did, he wrote out an amulet, using holy names. He told them to place that amulet in a cup of wine and for both of them to drink from that cup, and in nine months’ time they would have a son of their own.

Somehow the quiet confidence of Elijah soothed the pair and gave them hope. Then the merchant said, “We will always be grateful if what you have said comes true. Tell me, how can I repay you?” Elijah replied, “Do nothing for now. But when the child is born, make a donation in the charity box of the synagogue on the corner of this street, which serves the poorest Jewish people. That will suffice.” Then the merchant and his wife thanked him many times, and turned to go. But before they left, the old man said, “Wait. There is one more thing that I must tell you.” The merchant and his wife turned back, wondering what it was. And Elijah said, “The son that will be born to you is not destined to be wed. He must remain unmarried all his life. For it is written that on the night he weds, he will be devoured by a beast!”

As they heard this prophecy, the high hopes of the couple were suddenly shaken. They stood silent, but at last the merchant said, “Is there nothing we can do to spare our child this terrible fate?” And the old man answered, “No, I am sorry to say. All that you can do is avoid making any match for him, and when he is old enough to understand, explain that it is his destiny to remain unwed.” And the merchant and his wife assured Elijah that they would heed his warning, and that if indeed they were blessed with a son, they would see to it that he was never betrothed. Then they took their leave, but this time they were much more solemn.

When they returned home the merchant placed the amulet that Elijah had written into a silver goblet and filled it with his finest wine, a bottle that had been saved since he had been born. The merchant and his wife drank from the goblet, one sip at a time, until it was empty. That is when they discovered that the amulet had dissolved into the wine; not a trace of it was to be found. And when the couple saw this, they sensed that the prophecy of the old man would indeed come true, and they would become parents. But they did not think about his admonition.

To their mutual delight the merchant’s wife soon found that she was with child, and at the end of nine months she gave birth to a beautiful boy, and the merchant and his wife felt they had been greatly blessed. The merchant did not forget his promise to Elijah to give money to the synagogue for the poor. He gave them a great donation, enough to sustain them for a full year. But he did not dwell on the warning of the old man, for the time his son would think of marriage was far off.

In the years that followed, the man and his wife raised their son with loving care, for he was more precious to them than anything in the world. From time to time a marriage was proposed for him, for such early betrothals were the custom. The boy’s parents always turned down these offers, giving one excuse or another, but never, of course, the true reason. The day came, however, when the young man himself informed his parents that he wished to be wed. The parents argued long into the night about whether to tell him the prophecy of the old man. In the end they decided not to, and instead made up their minds to see to it that the boy was indeed wed, but under circumstances that would protect him from every danger. Now in his travels the merchant had once come into possession of a small island in a distant sea. That island was uninhabited by man or beast, and the merchant thought it would be the perfect place to have the wedding. Therefore, once the match had been made, the merchant saw to it that a fine mansion was built on that island, surrounded with a large stone wall that would protect his son from every kind of danger. So too did he have guards posted to guard the mansion day and night.

One year later, when the time for the wedding had arrived, the merchant was informed that the mansion was ready. Then the merchant had his finest sailing ship outfitted and brought both families on board, along with the bride and groom and many guests. (Of course the bride and groom were never permitted to glimpse each other, as was the custom.) The voyage was a time of great rejoicing, and the merchant and his wife never dwelt on the prophecy of the old man. For they felt that they had done everything possible to protect their son from danger.

When the ship docked at last on that lovely island, all expressed wonder and delight. The sand of the beaches was pure white, and there were fruit trees of every kind, as well as wild grapes and berries. So too were all the guests astonished at the extravagant mansion. It was constructed of marble, like a palace, and the chamber of the bride and groom was set at the top of a spiral tower. There, the merchant felt sure, his son would be safe.

The wedding festivities continued for three days and nights before the vows were finally said. It was then that the merchant’s son saw his bride for the first time. She was astonishingly beautiful, with raven hair that reached to her waist, and the young man felt himself to be the most fortunate groom in the world. At last he and his bride climbed the stairs to the tower together and stood on the threshold of the bridal chamber. The young man led his bride inside and closed the door. As he gazed at her he was filled with awe at her beauty. He admired especially her hands, with their fine, slender fingers and long nails. He smiled shyly at her, but she seemed afraid to lift her eyes from the floor. When at last she did, the young man was astonished to see a look of wild desire in them unlike anything he had ever seen. When he stepped forward to embrace her, he suddenly heard a low growl. The young man looked around in confusion, wondering where it could have come from. He turned back just in time to see the fangs of the beast as it leaped at him from the very place his bride had been.

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 Wonderful Hand Mill

Posted on Thursday, 7, January, 2021Thursday, 28, March, 2024 by Rabbi

Once upon a time, long, long ago, there were two brothers, one rich and the other poor. One Friday morning, the poor brother had not a bite in the house for Shabbos, either of meat or bread, so he went to his brother and begged him, in the merit of Shabbos, to give him something for the holy day. It was by no means the first time that the brother had been forced to give something to his less fortunate brother, and he was not very happy about it.

“If you will do what I ask you, you shall have challahs and two whole chickens,” the wealthy brother said. The poor brother immediately thanked him, and promised to do as his bother asked.

“Well, here are the challahs and the chickens, and now you must go straight to the ancient cave in the hills known as Black Hole Cave,” instructed the rich brother, throwing the food to him.

“Well, I will do what I have promised,” said the poor brother, and he took the food and set off. He traveled the narrow path for many hours.

Outside the ancient cave was an old man with a long white beard chopping wood.

“Shalom Aleichem, (Peace be unto you)” said the poor brother.

“Aleichem shalom (Ubto you, Peace). Where are you going at this late hour, Shabbos is coming very soon?” asked the old man.

“I am going to Black Hole Cave, if only I am on the right track,” answered the poor man.

“Oh! Yes, you are right enough, for it is here,” said the old man. “When you get inside they will all want to buy your chicken, for they don’t get much meat to eat there; but you must not sell the chicken unless you can get the hand-mill which stands behind the door for it. When you come out again I will teach you how to use the hand-mill, which is useful for almost everything.”

So the man with the chickens thanked the other for his good advice, and rapped at the door.

When he got in, everything happened just as the old man had said it would: all the people, great and small, came round him like ants on an ant-hill, and each tried to outbid the other for the chicken.

“By rights my wife and I should have these chickens for Shabbos dinner, but, since you have set your hearts upon it, I will sell my chickens to you for the hand-mill which is standing there behind the door.”

At first they would not hear of this, and haggled and bargained with the man, but he stuck to what he had said, and the people were forced to give him the hand-mill. When the man came out again into the yard, he asked the old wood-cutter how he was to use the hand-mill, and when he had learned that, he thanked him and set off home with all the speed he could, but did not get there until right before candle lighting time.

“Where in the world have you been?” asked his wife. “I have been waiting for you all day and have nothing to prepare for Shabbos dinner.”

“I have been very busy and have something to show you.” said the man, as he set the hand-mill on the table, and told it first grind a white table-cloth, and then wine, and everything else that was good for Shabbos dinner. The mill ground all that he ordered. “Bless our house” said the wife as one thing after another appeared. The husband made Kiddush and began to enjoy the festive meal. His wife wanted to know where her husband had got the mill from, but he would not tell her.

“Don’t worry yourself about this blessing from Heaven” he told her as he invited everyone to enjoy the food throughout Shabbos.

Now when the rich brother saw all the fine food in his poor brother’s house, he was both annoyed and angry, He was very jealous of everything his poor brother had. “Before Shabbos he was so poor that he came to me and begged for a little food, and now he gives a feast as if he were a wealthy merchant.” He thought to himself.

After Shabbos, the wealthy man paid is brother a visit, “Tell me where you got your riches from,” he begged his brother. “From behind the door in the Black Hole Cave,” he answered. He really did not want to tell his brother. Throughout the meal the poor brother drank much wine and could not refrain from telling how he had come by the hand-mill.

He brought out the mill, and made it grind first one thing and then another. When the brother saw that, he insisted on having the mill, and after a great deal of persuasion got it; but he had to give three hundred gold coins for it, and the poor brother was to keep it until Rosh Chodesh – the new month. He believed that the mill would grind out food and wine that would last throughout the year. At the end of Rosh Chodesh the rich brother came to get the mill, but the other had taken good care not to teach him how to stop it.

It was evening when the rich man got the mill home, and in the morning he told his wife to go into the market, and he would attend to the house himself.

So, when dinner-time drew near, he set the mill on the kitchen-table, and said: “Grind boiled potatoes and sour cream, and do it both quickly and well.”

So the mill began to grind boiled potatoes and sour cream, and first all the dishes and tubs were filled, and then it came out all over the kitchen-floor. The man twisted and turned it, and did all he could to make the mill stop, but he could not. In a short time the sour cream rose so high that the man was like to be drowned. So he threw open the door and was pushed out the door as the sour cream and boiled potatoes spilled out over his farm and fields.

Now the rich man’s wife was returning from the market and was met by the tide of potatoes and sour cream pouring forth spreading as far as the eye could see. The rich man went quickly to his brother’ house and begged him to take the mill back again, saying, “If it grinds one hour more the whole district will be destroyed by boiled potatoes and sour cream.” But the brother would not take it until the other paid him three hundred gold coins.

Now the poor brother had both the money and the mill again. So it was not long before he had a farmhouse much finer than that in which his brother lived, but the mill ground so much that all his needs were met. He and his wife welcomed all travelers and anyone in need to their home where they provided for all the needs the people required.

They were blessed for the rest of their years with happiness and plenty.

Jewish recipes

Bukharan Chicken and Rice Plov

Plov is a signature dish of the Bukharan Jewish community of Central Asia. Often slow cooked in a wood-burning oven, it is served to guests as a symbol of hospitality for Shabbat, holidays and at special life events, including weddings.

INGREDIENTS

5 tablespoons oil (enough to cover bottom of pot)		2 to 3 pounds skinless, boneless chicken (cut into small bite-size squares)
3 onions (peeled, trimmed and chopped)		1 1/2 teaspoons salt (divided)
6 carrots (peeled and grated thick)		1/4 teaspoon pepper
1 tablespoon sugar		2 1/2 cups medium grain rice (such as Basmati)
1-3 teaspoons Cumin		½ – 1 ½ teaspoon(s) cinnamon
3 1/2 cups boiling water (enough to cover the rice by 1/2 inch)

DIRECTIONS

In a Dutch oven or large pot, warm the oil over medium-high heat. Add the onions, and then the carrots. Stir in the sugar. Sauté until the onions are translucent, about 5 to 7 minutes.

Lay the chicken on top of the onions and carrots. Don’t stir to maintain a layer of vegetables and a distinct layer of meat. Sprinkle 1 teaspoon salt and pepper on the chicken. Cook the chicken, gently turning the pieces over in the middle, until the chicken turns white.

Add rice on top of the chicken. Don’t stir because the layers of vegetables and chicken should remain undisturbed, but distribute the rice evenly over the chicken. Sprinkle with 1/2 teaspoon of salt. Add boiling water. Turn the heat down to low and cover.

After about 15 minutes, scrape down the sides and poke 6 or 7 holes through the rice to the bottom of the pot with the handle of a wooden spoon. Cover and cook for another 20 to 25 minutes, or until the water has been absorbed and the rice is tender.

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 Palace in the Clouds – A Jewish Tale from Ashur

Posted on Tuesday, 21, July, 2020Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

Ikkar, the Jewish vizier of the king of Ashur, was the wisest man in the land, but he was not happy. He was the favorite of the king who bestowed upon him many honors, and well respected by the people who bowed before him in the streets and cast themselves on the ground at his feet to kiss the hem of his garment. He always had a kind word and a smile for those who came to him for advice and guidance, but his eyes were ever sad, and tears would trickle down his cheeks as he watched the little children at play in the streets.

He was recognized and respected as a man of wisdom far beyond the borders of Ashur, rulers feared to offend the king who had Ikkar as the chief of all his advisors and counselors. Sadly, Ikkar would often sit alone in his beautiful palace and sigh heavily. No sound of children’s laughter was ever heard in his home, and that was the cause of his sorrow. Ikkar was a pious man and deeply learned in the Holy Writings; every day he prayed long and with holy intent. He listened to the advice of holy men that he be blessed with at one son, or a daughter, so his name would not be forgotten in time. Yet, the years passed and no child was born to him.

Ikkar was married to a beautiful woman, Aaliyah. Her kindness and open hand was known throughout the land. Their one sadness was not having children. One night Ikkar had a dream in which a spirit appeared to him and said:

“Ikkar, you will die full of years and honor, but childless. Therefore, take Nadan, the son of your widowed sister and let him be a son to you.”

Nadan was a handsome youth of fifteen, and Ikkar related his dream to the boy’s mother who permitted him to take Nadan to his palace and there bring him up as his own son. The sadness faded from the vizier’s eyes as he watched the lad at his lessons, and Ikkar himself taught wisdom to Nadan. Sadly, to his surprise, and then to his grief, Nadan was not thankful for the riches and love lavished upon him. He neglected his lessons and grew very proud and arrogant. He treated the servants of the household harshly and did not obey the wise rules of Ikkar.

The vizier, however, was hopeful that he would reform and gain wisdom with years, and he took him to the palace of the king and appointed him an officer of the royal guard. For Ikkar’s sake, the king made Nadan one of his favorites, and all in the land looked upon the young man as the successor of Ikkar and the future vizier. This only served to make Nadan still more arrogant, and a wicked idea entered his head to gain further favor with the king and replace Ikkar at once.

“O King, live forever!” he said one day, when Ikkar was absent in a distant part of the land; “it grieves me to have to utter words of warning against Ikkar, the wise, the father who has adopted me. But he conspires to destroy you.”

The king laughed at this suggestion, but he became serious when Nadan promised to give him proof in three days. Nadan then set to work and wrote two letters. One was addressed to Pharaoh, king of Egypt, and read as follows:

Nadan then forged Ikkar’s name and took the letter to the king.

“I have found this,” he said, “and have brought it to you. It shows you that Ikkar would deliver this country to your enemy.”

The king was very angry and would have sent for Ikkar at once, but Nadan counseled patience.

“Wait until the tenth of next month, the day of the annual review, and you will see what will surprise you still more,” he said.

Then he wrote the second letter. This was to Ikkar and was forged with the king’s name and sealed with the king’s seal that he obtained. It bade Ikkar on the tenth of the next month to assemble the troops on the Eagle Plain to show how strong and disciplined they were to the foreign envoys. They were to pretend to attack the king.

The vizier returned the day before the review, and while the king stood with Nadan and the foreign envoys, Ikkar and the troops, acting on their instructions, made a pretense of attacking his majesty.

“Do you not see?” said Nadan. “The king of Egypt not being here, Ikkar threatens you,” and he immediately gave orders to the royal trumpeters to sound, “Halt!” Ikkar was brought before the king and confronted with the letter to Pharaoh.

“Explain this, if you can,” exclaimed the king, angrily. “I have trusted you and filled you with riches and honors and you betrayed me. Is not this your signature, and is not your seal attached?”

Ikkar was too shocked to reply, as Nadan whispered to the king that this proved his guilt.

“Lead him to the execution,” cried the king, “and let his head be severed from his body and cast one hundred amos (cubits) from the outermost wall of the city.”

Falling on his knees, Ikkar pleaded that at least he should be granted the privilege of being executed within his own house so that he might be buried there.

This request was granted, and Nabu Samak, the executioner, led Ikkar as a prisoner to his palace. Nabu Samak was a great friend to Ikkar and it grieved him to have to carry out the king’s order.

“Ikkar,” he said, “I am certain that you are innocent, and I will save you. Listen to me, in the prison is a bloodthirsty highwayman who has committed many murders and who deserves death. His beard and hair are like yours, and at a distance he can easily be mistaken for you. I shall behead him and show his head to the crowd, while you hide and live in secret.”

Ikkar thanked his friend and the plan was carried out. The murder’s head was exhibited to the crowd from the roof of the house and the people wept because they thought it was the head of the good Ikkar. Meanwhile, the vizier went down into the cellar deep beneath his palace and lived there, while his adopted son, Nadan, was appointed chief of the king’s counselors in his stead.

Now, when Pharaoh, king of Egypt, heard that Ikkar, the wise, had been executed, he determined to make war upon Ashur. Therefore, he dispatched a letter to the king, asking him to send an architect to design and build a palace in the clouds.

“If this you do,” he wrote, “I, Pharaoh, son of the Sun, will pay you tribute; if you fail, you must pay me tribute.”

The king of Ashur was stunned when he received the letter that had to be answered in three months. Nadan could not advise him what to do. The King bitterly regretted that Ikkar, the man of wisdom, was no longer by his side to advise him.

“I would give one-fourth of my kingdom to bring Ikkar to life again,” he sighed.

Hearing these words, Nabu Samak, the executioner, fell on his knees and revealed that Ikkar was alive.

“Bring him before me at once,” ordered the king.

Ikkar scarcely believed the good news when his friend came to him in the cellar. The people wept tears of joy and pity when the old vizier led through the streets of the city.

For the twelve months, he was hidden in the cellar his beard had grown down to the ground, his hair hung below his shoulders and his fingernails were very long. The king wept when he saw his old vizier.

“Ikkar,” he said, “for months have I felt that you were innocent, and I have missed your wise counsels. Help me in my difficulty and you shall be pardoned.”

“Your majesty,” said Ikkar, “I desire nothing more than to serve you. I am innocent. Time will prove me guiltless.”

When he saw Pharaoh’s demand, he smiled. “’This is an easy task,” he said. “I will go to Egypt and outwit Pharaoh.”

He gave orders that four of the tame eagles in the gardens of the palace be brought to him with cords five hundred amos long attached to their claws. Then he selected four agile youths, and trained them to sit on the backs of the eagles and soar aloft. This done, he set out for Egypt with a big caravan and a long retinue of slaves.

“What is your name?” asked Pharaoh, when he presented himself.

“My name is Chirag ibn Rahim, and I am the lowest of my king’s advisers.”

“Does your master then think my demand so simple?” asked Pharaoh.

Ikkar bowed to indicate that this was so, and Pharaoh was much annoyed and puzzled.

“Perform your task and at once,” he commanded.

At a sign from Ikkar, the four youths mounted the eagles that flew to the height of their cords. The birds remained in the air two hundred amos apart, as they had been trained, and the lads held cords in the form of a square.

“That is the plan of the palace in the clouds,” said Ikkar, pointing aloft. “Bid your men carry up bricks and mortar. The task is so simple that the boys will build.”

Pharaoh frowned, as he had not expected to be outwitted in such a way, but he would not immediately acknowledge this.

“In this land,” he said, sarcastically, “we use no mortar. We sew the stones together. Can you do this?”

“Easily,” replied Ikkar, “if your wise men can make me a thread of sand.”

“And can you weave a thread of sand?” asked Pharaoh.

“I can,” responded Ikkar.

Noting the direction of the sun, he bored a tiny hole in the wall, and a thin sunbeam gleamed through. Then, taking a few grains of sand, he blew them through the hole and in the sunbeam, they seemed like a thread.

“Take it, quickly,” he cried, but of course, nobody could do this.

Pharaoh looked long and earnestly at Ikkar.

“Truly, you are a man of wisdom,” he said. “If he were not dead I should say you wert Ikkar, the wise.”

“I am Ikkar,” answered the vizier, and he told the story of his escape.

“I will prove your innocence,” exclaimed Pharaoh. “I will write a letter to your royal master.”

Not only did he do so, but also he gave Ikkar many valuable presents and the vizier returned to Ashur, resumed his place by the king’s side, and became a greater favorite than before. The king ordered that his name be inscribed in the royal records so his name would never be forgotten.

Nadan was banished and never heard of again.

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 Rabbi Who Was Turned into a Werewolf

Posted on Wednesday, 1, July, 2020Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

Part II The Curse of the Werewolf

Part 3 will be posted tomorrow

One Shabbos (Saturday) afternoon, he went to sleep, but his wife started nagging him, “Dear husband, how come you have so much money all at once? We were so poor earlier that you left town.”

Her husband answered, “The Holy One, blessed be He sent me some luck during my travels.”

His wife didn’t believe him. She kept harassing him until he gave in and told her the secret. That was very foolish of him. King Solomon once warned, “I found more bitter than death the woman who is a trap, whose heart is snares and nets, whose hands are fetters.” (Ecclesiastes 7:26). This happened to the good rabbi. If the rabbi had refused to tell her the secret, he would have spared himself a lot of trouble, but because he told the secret of the ring, which made all wishes come true, he suffered terribly a short time later.

The moment that evil woman heard about the ring, she thought to herself, “If only I can get the ring away from him, he’ll never see it again.”

She was simply dying to get the ring, but she knew she couldn’t get it without his consent. So she said to him, “Dear husband, give me the ring for a while, I want to see it.”

But the rabbi knew how wicked she was, and he wouldn’t let her have the ring. So she started yelling, “I can see you don’t love me anymore. Otherwise you wouldn’t be afraid to trust me with the ring.”

She plagued him day and night, until he had to give her the ring.

The moment she had it, she stuck her head under the covers and whispered, “I wish that my husband be turned into a werewolf and let him run around in the forest with the wild beasts.”

Scarcely had she uttered her wish when the good rabbi leaped out of the window and dashed off into the deep forest. Soon, he started to terrorize people in the forest. He caused so much confusion that people feared walking through the forest. Everyone was scared of the werewolf. He built himself a dry den to live in. He caused so much terror that the char coal-burners all ran away from the forest because they were frightened of him.

Let’s leave the wolf for a moment and see about what was happening in his home with the students.

When the time came, that Shabbos (Sabbath) afternoon, for the rabbi to teach his lesson to the students, his wife, may her name be forgotten, told them, “The rabbi won’t be able to teach his lesson today because he doesn’t feel well.”

The students believed her and went back to their homes. The next day, they came for their lesson again, and the wife stated, “The rabbi left on a journey and didn’t tell me where he was going. I think he will return at the end of four years.”

She pretended she was very sad, but she was very glad the rabbi was gone and she had the magic ring.

Now, when poor people came, she would send them away empty handed. This was a terrible time for the poor, they sorely missed the kind hearted rabbi. The wicked woman grew very rich, as she used the magic ring. She got herself everything she desired, and there was no end to her wealth.

No one could understand what had become of the rabbi and where he had suddenly vanished to. Nor could anyone find out. People only hoped that he would come home soon.

Now let’s leave the evil woman for a while and describe the plight of the poor rabbi, who was running around in the shape of a wolf. He caused terrible suffering and fear among the people. For there was no animal stronger than the werewolf. The town sent for the charcoal-burners and asked then whether they would be willing to go after the werewolf and destroy him. The charcoal-burners refused, saying the werewolf was stronger than iron, and as smart as a human being.

Hearing this, the king went hunting for the werewolf in the forest, but he couldn’t catch him. They dug pits and set traps in the forest, but nothing helped.

Now there lived a charcoal-burner in the woods, whom the werewolf never bothered. In fact, he became friendly with him and always hung around his hut, although other men kept clear of the forest because they were so afraid of him.

One day, the king issued a proclamation that whoever would overcome the wolf and capture him, dead or alive, would marry the king’s daughter and inherit the kingdom. The king had an adviser who was unmarried, and he was very strong and heroic, and had displayed his skill and might in many tournaments.

This adviser said to the king, “Your Majesty, if you intend to keep your word, then I will undertake a quest to kill the wolf. You know that I have been tested in battle and have shown a great deal of strength always carrying the day in my fights. I take on this quest in your honour.”

The king promised he would keep his word. The adviser took his weapons and armed himself well. He belived he would kill the wolf. First he went to the charcoal-burner, who was friendly with the wolf, and said to him, “My friend, show me where the wolf’s den is or where he hunts.”

When the charcoal-burner saw that the royal adviser was intent on killing the wolf, he was deeply distressed, for he feared for the adviser’s life since he himself had almost been killed by the werewolf.

So the charcoal-burner warned the adviser, “My lord, when the wolf sees you, you will be doomed no matter how great you are.”

The adviser answered, “Never mind. just show me where the wolf is. I came here to try and kill the wolf.”

The charcoal-burner replied, “My lord, I beg you, do not go on, or you will meet an untimely death.”

The adviser commanded, “Don’t hold me up! This is what has to be.”

So the charcoal-burner offered, “Then G-d have mercy on your soul!”

He led the adviser to where the wolf was hunting. Armed with his sword and spear the adviser slowly crept toward the werewolf, thinking he would kill him as soon as he was close enough.

When the wolf saw that his life was in danger, he leaped to the side and sprang upon the adviser’s back. He forced the advisor to the ground and was about to kill him.

When the charcoal-burner saw what was happening, he chased the wolf away from the adviser, but the adviser wouldn’t stop. He still wanted to kill the wolf. The charcoal-burner wouldn’t allow it.

When the adviser tried to attack the wolf a third time, the wolf became so fierce that he wanted to tear him to shreds. The adviser pleaded with G-d to save him from the wolf. He swore he wouldn’t go after him anymore. The wolf let go, and began wagging his tail, showing acceptance. The wolf would not stay away from him, and he trotted after him the way a loyal dog trots after his master. The adviser wanted lose the wolf for he was terribly frightened, but the wolf kept following him.

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 Rabbi Who Was Turned into a Werewolf – Part I The Rabbi and Students Travel

Posted on Tuesday, 30, June, 2020Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

Part 1 of 4 – Part 2 to be posted tomorrow

Part I The Rabbi and Students Travel

Once there was a rabbi who was very wealthy. He knew all of the revealed and hidden Torah and understood all the seventy languages. The rabbi maintained a great yeshiva, which was attended by many students. The rabbi provided for the needs of poor students. The students loved the rabbi, their teacher.

The rabbi was a baal tzedakah (giver of much charity) and provided for many of the poor of the village. He frequently had travelers and beggars in his home. the rabbi was filled with good deeds, as a pomegranite is filled with seeds. He was known throughout the region as a holy and generous man.

His wife was nothing like him, she was a wicked woman. She resented his generosity and his love of Torah. She couldn’t bear the presence of any poor people in her house.

The world is a water wheel, the buckets ascend full and descend empty. Who’s rich today may not be so tomorrow. (Exodus Rabbah 31:14) And so it happened with the holy rabbi. He lost all his wealth and could no longer help the poor or the students.

The holy rabbi was embarassed, but chose to bear his losses without protest to the Holy One, blessed be He, for ‘all His ways are just’ (Deuteronomy 32:4). After much thought he decided to leave town secretly so that no one will know what became of him.

He called together his best students in the yeshiva and said, “You know how devoted I’ve been to you all these years. I’ve provided you with food and clothing, and studied with you. But now I have to tell you something, and I hope that you will do toward me as I have always done toward you.”

The students answered together: “Rabbi, holy rabbi, tell us your secret. And we promise that we will be true to you as long as the Holy One, blessed be He gives us life.”

The rabbi told them he that he lost his fortune and that he planned to leave town. He invited his 10 best students to join him. He still had some money and hoped they would find mercy a long the road.

The students were touched by the holy rabbi’s words that they agreed that whatever they had, whether money or clothes, they would share with him.

That night, the rabbi went away his ten best students, and no one in the village noticed their leaving. When the poor people and students found that the rabbi was gone they were deeply frightened of his wife.

The holy rabbi was greatly honored wherever he went, and he and his students were treated very well. No one was surprised that he had left home, people assumed that he and his students were traveling for some holy purpose.

Travel is hard on clothes, person, and purse. (Midrash Tehillim 23:3) After being on the road for a long time, their clothes became tattered, and they ran out of money. They no longer looked like Torah scholars and sadly had to resort to begging to meet their needs.

Weariness and hard times wore down the holy rabbi and his loyal students. The students approached the holy rabbi and told him thy were tired of their life of wandering, and they to return to their homes and families. They also promised not to tell anyone what he was doing or where he was.”

The holy rabbi listened to his students and thought for a few moments, and then he said: “My dear students, what greater praise can I speak of you than your loyalty, which you have been showing me all this time. I therefore want to ask you one more thing, stay with me until after Shabbos. Then, b’ezras Hashem (G-d willing), I’ll let you go with my blessings.”

The students answered, “Rabbi, we’ve been with you so long, we’ll stay with you until after Shabbos.”

The holy rabbi walked slowly into the nearby forest and began to meditate and pray:

Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you (Psalm 19:14) If I recite my wants, it is not to remind You of them, but only that I may be conscious of my dependence upon You. (Chovos haLevavos 8:3:18).

Suddenly he saw a little weasel running by, with a golden ring in its mouth. The holy rabbi began to chase the weasel, until it dropped the ring. The rabbi picked it up and saw that is was very old and that there was ancient writing on the inside, which he was able to read. It said: “Though I be old and simple, I am invaluable.”

The rabbi was very wise and he realized there was something special about this ring, and he sat and studied it. He wondered what was so special about the ancient ring. What makes it so invaluable?

For a moment he was distracted thought about his students and he said to himself, “Ribbono Shel Olam , Master of the Universe allow me to find away to send my students back to their homes with ease,” Suddenly he saw lying before him a belt full of golden coins. He was amazed and returned to his students.

He gathered them around him and told them, “This Shabbos will truly be joyful. I just learned that an old friend, who is very wealthy, lives in the nextvillage, and I’m sure he will lend me money, he doesn’t yet realize that I’m poor. With the money, I’ll be able to buy you all new clothes and we will return home together.”

He didn’t want to tell his students about the ring because “secret things belong to Hashem (Deuteronomy 29:28), so he didn’t say a word.

When they arrived at the next village, the holy rabbi bought clothes made of the finest velvet and silk for his students. He also bought himself clothing he had worn before. Throughout Shabbos they learned Torah, sang and were very happy.

He went into the city and bought a beautiful coach, fit for a prince, and he told his students:

“Dear students, come here, and I will pay you back for everything you did for me while we were roaming about, and then we shall go home.”

The students merely thought that the wealthy relative in the town had lent him a thousand ducats, just as the rabbi said to them, so that he might return home in honor. And they started back. And the people who had once closed their doors to them, now opened them wide and welcomed the travelers warmly.

However, while the rabbi and his students were away from their home town, the people were miserable. But then they found out that the rabbi and his students were coming back, and there were shouts of joy. And who was as glad as the poor people in town?

When the rabbi arrived, everyone gave him a warm welcome, for nobody realized he had gone out into the world because he had been poverty-stricken. People thought he had gone away to study. And the rabbi acted as he had always acted before. He gave charity, opened his yeshiva and brought up little boys to study. On Sabbath afternoons, following his nap, he would interpret the hard critical glosses of the Talmud for his students.

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)

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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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)

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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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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)

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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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 II will be posted on 3 November 2021

In the dark­ness her gown caught on a thorn bush as she entered, and a single golden thread became unraveled, though the princess did not notice this.

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

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

“If you will do what I ask you, you shall have challahs and two whole chickens,” the wealthy brother said. The poor brother immediately thanked him, and promised to do as his bother asked.

“Well, here are the challahs and the chickens, and now you must go straight to the ancient cave in the hills known as Black Hole Cave,” instructed the rich brother, throwing the food to him.

“Well, I will do what I have promised,” said the poor brother, and he took the food and set off. He traveled the narrow path for many hours.

Outside the ancient cave was an old man with a long white beard chopping wood.

“Shalom Aleichem, (Peace be unto you)” said the poor brother.

“Aleichem shalom (Ubto you, Peace). Where are you going at this late hour, Shabbos is coming very soon?” asked the old man.

“I am going to Black Hole Cave, if only I am on the right track,” answered the poor man.

So the man with the chickens thanked the other for his good advice, and rapped at the door.

When he got in, everything happened just as the old man had said it would: all the people, great and small, came round him like ants on an ant-hill, and each tried to outbid the other for the chicken.

“By rights my wife and I should have these chickens for Shabbos dinner, but, since you have set your hearts upon it, I will sell my chickens to you for the hand-mill which is standing there behind the door.”

“Where in the world have you been?” asked his wife. “I have been waiting for you all day and have nothing to prepare for Shabbos dinner.”

“Don’t worry yourself about this blessing from Heaven” he told her as he invited everyone to enjoy the food throughout Shabbos.

It was evening when the rich man got the mill home, and in the morning he told his wife to go into the market, and he would attend to the house himself.

So, when dinner-time drew near, he set the mill on the kitchen-table, and said: “Grind boiled potatoes and sour cream, and do it both quickly and well.”

They were blessed for the rest of their years with happiness and plenty.

Bukharan Chicken and Rice Plov

Plov is a signature dish of the Bukharan Jewish community of Central Asia. Often slow cooked in a wood-burning oven, it is served to guests as a symbol of hospitality for Shabbat, holidays and at special life events, including weddings.

INGREDIENTS

5 tablespoons oil (enough to cover bottom of pot)

2 to 3 pounds skinless, boneless chicken (cut into small bite-size squares)

3 onions (peeled, trimmed and chopped)

1 1/2 teaspoons salt (divided)

6 carrots (peeled and grated thick)

1/4 teaspoon pepper

1 tablespoon sugar

2 1/2 cups medium grain rice (such as Basmati)

1-3 teaspoons Cumin

½ – 1 ½ teaspoon(s) cinnamon

3 1/2 cups boiling water (enough to cover the rice by 1/2 inch)

DIRECTIONS

In a Dutch oven or large pot, warm the oil over medium-high heat. Add the onions, and then the carrots. Stir in the sugar. Sauté until the onions are translucent, about 5 to 7 minutes.

In the darkness her gown caught on a thorn bush as she entered, and a single golden thread became unraveled, though the princess did not notice this.