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ST27 Alexander the Great and the Eye
a tale of a mysterious eye and the secrets it holds until the wisdom of Alexander the Great solves the secrets
The Mysterious Wagon Driver
There was once a wealthy merchant who frequently traveled to a holy rabbi for advice and blessings. Through experience, the merchant learned to listen carefully to what the holy rabbi said to him, and in this way spared from numerous business transactions that may have looked promising, but would have soured had he pursued them.
Once, at the conclusion of a visit, the holy rabbi said: “Next time you come here,please bring along your wagon driver.”
This request caught the merchant by surprise. Until then, the holy rabbi had never mixed into such things, such as who should be his wagon driver. Besides, he never noticed anything remarkable about the man the Holy rabbi now wished to see. Yet he knew better than to question the Holy rabbi.
Months passed, and the merchant returned to the Holy rabbi’s court. As instructed, he traveled with the particular wagon driver the holy rabbi had requested.
“Please invite the wagon driver to come see me,” said the holy rabbi upon hearing that the man was in town.
The merchant quickly rushed to the boarding house where the wagon driver was staying and that the holy rabbi wanted to see him.
“Who am I to see the holy rabbi?” answered the simple man, who was more comfortable in the stable than in a book-lined study. The invitation frightened him, and he tried to excuse himself from going.
When the merchant saw that the driver was not planning on coming with him, he threatened not to hire him to take him back. This forced the wagon driver to change his mind; he agreed to come along.
“Shalom Aleichem! Shalom Aleichem! (Peace be upon you),” the holy rabbi greeted the wagon driver with a broad smile.
The driver, who was surprised by the warm greeting, was dumbstruck when the revered rabbi invited him to return the next day in order to share a meal with him.
When the wagon driver left the house, the holy rabbi turned to his wife and asked her to prepare special delicacies and foods reserved for Shabbos and holidays to be served to their guest the following day.
In the meantime, the news spread about the simple wagon driver who merited to be greeted like royalty in the holy rabbi’s house. Many tried to guess the meaning of this special meal. Soon, a group of young students surrounded the wagon driver, demanding that he reveal himself to them.
“I have no idea why I have been invited to the holy rabbi’s house,” he said. “I am not Torah scholar or very important; I am a simple wagon driver.”
The students would not leave him alone.
“Perhaps you may remember some small deed you did,” they asked.
The driver scratched his head, trying to remember anything he had done to draw the attention of the holy rabbi.
“Oh, maybe something …,” he mumbled.
The eyes of the young students lit up.
“Tell us, tell us!” they repeated.
So the wagon driver began to tell his story.
“During my many travels, I reach outlying villages where there sometimes may be only one Jewish family living among the many people in the village. More than once,it happened that the Jewish people would ask me if I knew of a mohel (circumciser) because a baby boy had been born to them, and in the whole area there weren’t any mohelim to perform the bris for the baby on the eighth day.
“Therefore,”the wagon driver continued, “I learned the laws of bris milah and trained under an expert mohel. When I travel, I take along my bris milah kit. Baruch Hashem (Thank G‑d),I have been privileged to do quite a number of circumcisions in many of these far-flung communities.
“A number of months ago, I was traveling through a forest and lost my way.Suddenly, I heard a loud, pitiful crying that broke my heart. I followed the cry and reached a hovel belonging to a Jewish forester. The crying was coming from his wife. She told me that her husband became ill a while back and was laid up in bed, unable to move. And, today was the eighth day of the birth of their son. Her husband meant to travel to the large city to bring a mohel from there.
“‘Now, however, he cannot move, and I don’t know what to do!’ she burst out, crying.
“‘Do not worry, good woman, I am a mohel!’ I told her. “I calmed down the surprised woman. But now I had to find a sandek to hold the baby, as the father was too weak to sit up and hold his newborn son. I went out to the main road, hoping against hope that a Jewish traveler would pass by.
“Suddenly, a short while before the sun was to set, I saw a Jewish traveler walking towards me.
“I jumped on him as if I had found a treasure. I told him about the great honor that he would be privileged to have. At first, he refused to come. But I pleaded with him: ‘A Jewish child is waiting to enter the covenant of Avraham Avinu (Abraham our father), the father is already one foot in the other world;and the mother is crying. How can you be so insensitive and continue on your way!?’
“These words hit their mark, and he agreed to come with me.
“After the bris, I suggested to the guest that he join me for the festive meal to celebrate the occasion. However, there was not a morsel of food in the house. I took out my knapsack, which contained bread and some cheese. We washed our hands and sat down to eat the mitzvah meal, which we shared with the mother.
“Afterwards, the guest suggested that we should call the father of the child to complete the zimun [a quorum of three]. I looked at him with disbelief. ‘Can’t you see that he is almost on the other side?’ The strange guest walked over to the father, and in a minute, the man was standing upright, being led to the table by the guest. I could not believe my eyes!
“When we finished the prayer after the meal, I stepped outside for a minute to get something from my wagon. When I returned to the home, I did not see the guest anywhere. He had disappeared completely!
“And that is my story,” said the wagon driver.
The next day, the wagon driver came to the house of the holy rabbi and ate a festive meal. One of the sons of the holy rabbi shared with his father the amazing episode he had heard. At the conclusion of the meal, the holy rabbi said to the assembled: “A Jewish person who merited to eat at the same table as Avraham Avinu, I very much wanted to eat with him as well …”
May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)
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The Milk and Honey Goat
There once was a shepherd boy named Yishai who lived in a forest near a little Polish village. Each day he herded his family’s goats through the forest to a clearing where they grazed. As they did, Yishai sat beneath a tree and studied from the holy books lessons his father taught him the night before. He played beautiful Shabbos songs on his wooden flute. Each day at sunset Yishai led the goats back home, where his little sister Leah was waiting. She helped him milk the goats and feed the chickens, so that Yishai would have more time to teach her how to read.
At night, after dinner, their father told them stories he had heard from his parents and grandparents. There were tales of sages and heroes, of angels and demons, of witches and wizards, all of which Yishai loved. His loved to hear tales about the holy city of Jerusalem most of all. He especially liked stories about the Kossel haMa’arivi (the Western Wall), where people left messages for Hashem (G-d) in the cracks of the wall. It was Yishai’s dream to go there.
One morning, Yishai’s mother handed him a cup of goat’s milk. He thought it was unusually sweet, as if it had honey in it. The rest of the family agreed that it was the best milk they had ever tasted, and Yishai’s father said, “Yishai, do you know which of the goats this milk came from?” Yishai said, “Of course I do. It came from the youngest one.”
“Tell me Yishai,” said his father, “do you know where that goat has been grazing? For if you do, you could take the other goats there, and they too might give such delicious milk.”
“I’ll try to find out,” said was Yishai, “but that goat wanders off every day and doesn’t come back until sunset.”
“In that case, follow it,” his father said.
The next day Yishai led the goats out to the forest and sat down under his favorite tree, determined to keep his eye on the youngest goat. Before long Yishai took out his wooden recorder and started to play it, and the melody was so beautiful he closed his eyes for just an instant. When he opened them, the goat disappeared and did not come back until it was time to return home. This happened the next day and the next, and meanwhile the goat continued to give that delicious milk. Yishai’s father saved some of it for the family and sold the rest in the village nearby.
At breakfast the next day Yishai’s father said, “Something strange happened yesterday. I delivered milk to this old woman who’s been sick. She’s been too weak to come out to meet me, so I take the milk up to her. Well, yesterday she came out of her house looking much better and smiling and she said, ‘That milk you gave me, I think it cured me. I want more of that milk!”
Then Yishai’s father turned to him and said, “So, Yishai, did you ever find out where that goat was grazing?”
“No, no . . I tried . . . it’s a very tricky goat,” Yishai said.
“Now Yishai,” his father said, “if that milk has special healing abilities, we really need to find out where the goat is grazing.”
Yishai said, “I’ll tell you what. I’ll put a bell around the goat. Then even if it runs away, I’ll hear the bell and I’ll be able to follow it.”
His father said “Good idea!”
So Yishai found a little bell and tied it around the neck of the goat. And that day when he led the goats out to the forest, he heard the bell tinkling, and he smiled to himself, thinking, “He’s not going to get away this time!”
When they got out to the forest, Yishai kept an eye on the goat, which grazed nearby, as he began to play his flute. Then he closed his eyes for just an instant, carried away by the melody. When he opened his eyes, the goat was gone. Yishai still could hear the tinkling of the bell, so he jumped up and raced off in that direction. He caught sight of the goat just before it ran behind a bush. So Yishai crept up to the bush and pushed it aside—but when he did, the goat wasn’t there. Instead, there was the entrance to a cave, a cave he had never seen before. And from inside the cave he heard the faint jingling of the bell.
Yishai didn’t know what to do. Should he follow the goat into that cave? What if there were spiders or snakes in there? At that moment, he remembered how badly his father wanted to know where the goat had been grazing, and all at once he felt very brave and he dashed inside.
At first the cave was large enough that Yishai could stand up in it, but before long it grew narrow, and he had to bend low, and sometimes crawl, and he wondered where the goat was leading him. He continued to hear the goat’s bell in the distance and little by little the darkness in the cave began to lift, and Yishai knew he must be approaching the other end of the cave. Then Yishai came to a turn in the passage and he saw the goat running out of the cave. He hurried to catch up with it, but when he stepped outside, Yishai was astonished to find that he was no longer in the forest. Where did it go? Instead, he was standing in a beautiful orchard, where he saw trees he had never seen before — date trees and fig trees and olive trees. There were no trees like that in Poland. Where was he? Then Yishai looked up, and there, beneath a nearby date tree, calmly grazed the young goat.
Yishai walked over to the goat and petted it, and he tied it to the tree with the rope he used for a belt. Where he stood, the scent of dates was so enticing that Yishai reached up and picked one. He bit into it, and it was the sweetest date he had ever tasted, as sweet as honey. Yishai understood that the goat must have been grazing there, but he could not figure out where he was, for he seemed to have come to another land.
Yishai looked up and saw a synagogue nearby. Just then the service ended and men came out. One was walking in his direction, and when he passed Yishai he said, “Hello young man. I see you are wearing the clothes of the old country.”
Yishai said, “Yes, we are new here. Tell me, what is this beautiful place?”
“Why, this is the Holy Land,” said the man. “Don’t you know you are in the city of Jerusalem?”
“I am?” Yishai said, and his heart skipped a beat. But how could that be possible? He had traveled only a short distance through the cave, and the Holy Land was so far away. It must have been a miracle. Yishai wanted to be sure. So he asked the man if the Kossel, the Western Wall, was nearby.
The man said. “That is what most strangers want to know. Yes, the Wall is very close. Just follow this path past the synagogue, and soon you will reach the marketplace. From there, anyone can guide you there.” Yishai gratefully thanked the man and hurried off in that direction.
That path led Yishai to a teeming marketplace. Yishai felt at home there, for he had often accompanied his father to the market in his village. Everyone was buying and selling and bargaining, and every kind of food could be found, from raisins and dates to sweet-smelling oranges. But Yishai wasn’t hungry—he was filled with thoughts about the Wall. As he walked through the marketplace, Yishai found himself walking next to an old man, wearing a white robe, carrying a staff. The old man greeted him, “Shalom aleichem.” Then he asked, “Where are you going?”
“Aleichem shalom,” Yishai said. “I am going to the Kossel.”
The old man replied, “I am going there too. Let us go together.”
So the old man led Yishai through the streets of Jerusalem. As they walked along, Yishai heard prayers coming from every direction, for there were many synagogues in that part of the city. Yishai recognized the prayers, but the melodies were different from those in his village. Still, the words were the same, and knowing those words made him feel at home in that distant place.
At last they came to the Western Wall. Yishai’s heart leaped at the sight of it. Yishai and the old man hastened to the Wall, where dozens of men and women had gathered, all pouring out their hearts and leaving messages for the Holy One, blessed be He in the cracks in the Wall. With their tears, they prayed for G-d’s help, and they mourned the destruction of the Temple and the scattering of the Jewish people all over the world.
Yishai stood close to the Wall and kissed it, with tears rolling down his cheeks. He had been waiting all his life for that moment: to stand before that wall in the holy city of Jerusalem. Looking up, Yishai thought he saw some kind of holy presence hovering above the wall, and he knew that he was in a very sacred place.
Yishai began to recite the prayers he knew so well, praying with a passion he had never known, certain that Hashem was listening to every word.
When he finished, he looked up and saw that the old man was writing a message, which he rolled up and left in a crack in the Wall. He turned to Yishai and said, “Would you like to leave a message?” Yishai smiled and held out his hand and the old man handed him a pen and a slip of paper. Yishai thanked him and wrote a message in which he said: “Ribbono shel olam, Master of the Universe how can I ever thank you for bringing me to this holy place? I am so grateful to be here. Hashem, I miss my parents. Isn’t there some way that they could join me?” he carefully rolled up the message and put it in a crack in the Wall.
Now at the very instant that message touched the Wall, the goat in the orchard reared up and broke its rope. It ran through the cave back to the forest and from there directly to Yishai’s house. And when Yishai’s parents saw that the young goat had come back without him, they were very worried. So when the goat suddenly turned around and ran back to the forest, they all ran after it, calling out for Yishai. Even the family’s animals ran after them. They saw the goat go behind the bush, and that is when they discovered the entrance to the cave. Yishai’s father said, “The goat must be trying to lead us to Yishai. Perhaps he has been hurt. Quickly, let’s see where this cave leads us.” So they all went into the cave.
Meanwhile, Yishai thanked the old man and said good-bye to him. Now he was hungry, but he didn’t have a single coin. Then Yishai remembered the goat. He could milk the goat and sell the milk in the market. Then he would have enough money to buy some food. So he hurried back to the orchard, where he had tied the goat. But when he got there the rope was broken, and the goat was missing. Yishai was heartbroken. Where could it have gone?
Just then Yishai heard sounds coming from the cave, and all at once the goat came running out of it. He was so happy to see it. Yishai embraced the goat, and as he did, he heard familiar voices. He ran toward the cave just as his father, his mother, and his sister Leah came running out. Yishai was overjoyed. He rushed into their arms and they all shed tears of joy, for they had been reunited. Their faithful animals had followed them through the cave.
Then Yishai said, “Do you know where we are?”
“No,” answered his father, “what place is this? It can’t be Poland.”
Yishai answered, “The cave brought us to the Holy Land to the city of Jerusalem.”
“How can that be?” asked his father. “It takes months to travel to the Holy Land.”
Yishai responded, “It’s a miracle. I just prayed at the Wall for you to join me here. And Hashem has answered my prayer.”
When they saw the orchards of Jerusalem instead of the forests of Poland, his family realized that a miracle truly had taken place. And since Hashem had brought them there, they decided to stay and make their home there. Their lives in the holy city of Jerusalem were blessed, and they lived long lives.
May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)
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ST26 Moving a Stone Heart
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Moving a Stone Heart
A lesson of wisdom on how to move the heaviest of stones – the heart
It is taught that without faith, “Its heart is as hard as stone, as hard as the lower millstone.” (Job 41:24)
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Moving a Stone Heart
Our hearts have become hard as stone…One has only one choice: One must take the “hammer
that smashes a rock” (Jeremiah 23:29) – a stone heart!
May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)
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Tell it to your children, and let your children tell it to their children, and their children to the next generation. (Joel 1:3)
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Charity of a Butcher and the World to Come
There was a G-d-fearing and humble scholar who asked the Holy One, blessed be He to let him know who his companion would be in the World to Come. He fasted for many days and offered many prayers until it was revealed in a dream one night: “Your companion will be Yankl the butcher.” When he awoke from his sleep, he was disturbed and upset, he sighed and grieved as he knew the butcher to be unlearned. Once again he fasted and prayed until he was told in a dream: “You have already been told that Yankl the Butcher is to be your companion in the World to Come.” When he heard this again, he was stunned and moaned and wept greatly. Then he heard a voice from heaven: “Had you not been a pious man with many good deeds in your favor, you would have perished. Why are you upset when you are told that Yankl the Butcher is to be your companion? Do you know what good deeds that butcher has done, which are far more than most men could do, and can you comprehend how high his rank is in the World to Come?”
At this the scholar rose in the morning and went to the butcher’s shop. He greeted him and sat down beside him and said to him: “I would like you to tell me what you do and what kind deeds you perform.” At this the butcher said to him: “Sir, you see my work. Of all I earn I give half for charity, while from the other half my family and I support ourselves.” “Many people,” said the scholar, “give even more for charity. But now tell me whether you have ever done anything which is more than most men could do.”
The butcher remained silent for quite a long while. Then he said: “Good sir, what I do is between the Holy One, blessed be He and me. I do not want people to know what I do.” “What deeds have you done that you wish to keep secret?” “I will only tell you of my deeds, if you promise never to tell a living soul.” “So be it” the Butcher began:
Once, many years ago, I was busy at my work when a caravan of merchants came to the city, bringing many captives to be sold as slaves. Among them was a little girl, crying bitterly. I asked her: “Little one, why are you crying like this?” With tear filled eyes, she answered: “Sir, I am Jewish and I fear that these non-believers may take me far away from any Jewish community. I wish I could go to some Jewish place where the Jewish community would redeem me.”
As soon as I heard this my heart felt soft and I pitied her and comforted her: “Be quiet and have faith, for I shall redeem you.” Then I went to her owner at once and purchased the girl at a high price, more indeed than I could afford.
Now the girl was twelve years old, and I brought her home and cared for her till she grew. I had an only son who was twenty-one years old and one day I spoke to him in secret and said: “My son, take my advice and do as I ask in order that things should be well with you in this world and the World to Come.”
“Tell me what you desire and I shall not depart from your command either to the right or the left.”
“My wish is that you should take this maiden for wife, and I shall care for all your needs.”
“I will gladly do as you have asked father.”
I was very happy and prepared all they would require from thread to shoelace. Nothing was missing. Then I made a great feast for the wedding, and there was not a single person who did not come. I invited all the poor so that they should not feel ashamed. Then I set many foods and drinks before them all, and they ate and drank and were happy and of good cheer. All except the men who were seated at a certain table and ate nothing. “Brothers,” said I to them, “why do you behave like this? Is there anything the matter with the food?” “Heaven forbid,” they answered, “we have never seen better, but this poor man who is seated with us has been crying and sighing ever since he has taken his place here. We cannot eat or drink in the midst of his unhappiness.”
I took the sad man by the hand and brought him out of the room and said to him: “Brother, why do you treat me so badly to bring such sadness to a joyful event? Tell me what bothers you and why you feel so bad, and do not conceal anything from me. If you are in debt, I shall give you what you need; and if you need a loan, I shall lend it to you.” “I am not in debt,” said he, “and I do not need a loan, but I weep because of this maiden whom you are marrying to your son. She is from my home city, and I was betrothed to her several years ago on this very day. She was taken captive and I have come after her, and this is the writ of our betrothal.” And he brought forth the writ, and I saw that it was as he said. I believed his words and said to him: “Be strong and control yourself, for I shall make everything right by you.”
Then I called my son and said to him: “My son, you have done my will regarding this maiden. Now do what I what I ask, and it will be good for you.”
“As I did before so I shall do now. I shall not disobey.”
Then I told him: “This maiden has been betrothed to someone else and I have already seen the writ of her betrothal, and the man who was betrothed to her is here, so she is forbidden to you. Now it is my wish that you should give him all I prepared for you in the way of garments and jewels, and restore her to her husband; and you will merit a greater reward, and I shall find you a better wife than this and give you twice as much.”
“Just as you have asked, so it shall be done, father.”
So I took the newly arrived man and the maiden and placed them beneath the bridal canopy. With the whole community, the wedding blessings were said in joy. I gave them all I had in my house, and all that was prepared for my son. They stayed with me for a long time, happy and of good cheer, not lacking for anything, so that they forgot their trouble and distress. At length they wished to return to their own city. I gave them fine gifts and provision for the way and sent them off in peace. I have always asked travelers regarding their well-being.
Then the scholar said to him: “Through you I now truly understand the teaching, ‘If there be among you a poor man, any one of your brethren, within any of your gates in your land which the L-rd your G-d gives you, you shall not harden your heart, nor shut your hand in the face of your poor brother. But you shall surely open your hand to him, and shall surely lend him sufficient for his need in that he wants. You shall surely give him, and your heart shall not be grieved when you give to him; because that for this thing the L-rd, your G-d will bless you in all your work, and in all that you put your hand to.’ (Deuteronomy 15: 7, 8,10).
May you be blessed before the L-rd. You have set my heart at rest and I rejoice that you will be my companion in the World to Come.”
May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)
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In the Land of the Shabbat Malka
Each Friday at dusk, when the sun goes down and the first three stars appear in the blue evening sky, every Jewish person knows that the Shabbat Malka (Sabbath Queen) has come to bring rest, joy and peace to mankind.
Far, far away in the land of Yemen lived a good and pious Jewish man named Saadia, whose greatest joy was observing Shabbat (the Sabbath) and who never spared any expense to make it beautiful. Sadly, after many years, there came a time when the wheel of fortune spun around, and Saadia grew poorer and poorer. Finally, one Friday drew near and he knew he would not have wine, bread or candles for Shabbat kodesh (the holy Sabbath).
Sadly he left his home and walked in to the desert. All day he wandered and when the sun was setting, he saw a wonderful green oasis blooming with fruit-trees and flowers. In the heart of the oasis towered a white alabaster palace and on its steps stood a beautiful woman. On her head she wore a golden crown set with three shining stars.
“Welcome to the realm of the Shabbat Malka,” the woman said. She ordered an old manservant to bring Saadia a basin full of fresh water. When he had washed, the servant dressed him in fine satin clothes and led him to a room with a bed, a golden menorah, and a table set with fine food. Saadia recited the evening prayer and sat down to eat. The following day, after the second Shabbat seuda (meal), Saadia went for a stroll around the oasis. The atmosphere was calm and peaceful. Not a leaf stirred, and in the shadows of the trees rested animals and wild birds. A wolf and a sheep lay close to each other, a bear and a cow were munching their food side by side, antelopes and tigers quenched their thirst together at a spring. Towards evening the servant approached and led Saadia to Seuda Shelisheet (the third Sabbath meal). Saadia finished his evening prayers and went out on the steps of the palace. The beautiful woman was standing there. She turned to Saadia with a friendly smile:
“I know that you are one of my most faithful servants. Before you leave my kingdom, I wish to bestow on you three precious stones: a red one, a blue one and a white one.
The first brings joy, the second calm, and the third peace. Remember, people cannot yet possess all three things at once.”
“0 noble princess!” Saadia cried out. “When will your joy, your calm, and your peace rule the world?”
“When the Messiah comes,” the beautiful woman answered.
Then everything suddenly vanished and Saadia found himself at the gates of a large, strange city. Within the gates he found all the inhabitants very mournful. A citizen told him that years ago their king had fallen into a deep melancholy and had forbidden any joy in his city.
“Lead me to him,” said Saadia, “I will cure him.” When he came to the king, he touched him with the red stone. Immediately the king began laughing joyfully and annulled the law ordering sadness in his land.
Saadia came to another city, where he found an atmosphere of tenseness and turbulence. The ruler of the city kept a close watch on his citizens and forced them to work day and night with no rest. Saadia touched him with the blue stone. The unrest melted away and the ruler abolished the law which forced people to work without resting.
Saadia left the next day and soon came to a third city. Here all the roads were packed with soldiers and everyone lived in fear, because the king was always engaged in battle and was determined to conquer the whole world. Saadia touched him with the white stone; and the king made peace with all his enemies, ordered his soldiers to lay down their arms, and declared a three-day peace celebration.
Loaded with gifts, Saadia finally arrived at his own home. He built a palace in the center of a huge garden, opened it to all needy wayfarers, and kept Shabbat with great love until the end of his days
May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)
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Tell it to your children, and let your children tell it to their children, and their children to the next generation. (Joel 1:3)
Rachmiel Tobesman is a motivational speaker and Maggid (spiritual Storyteller). He is available for speaking engagements or storytelling, Click here to contact us
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ST25 Alexander the Great and the Country of Women
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Alexander the Great and the Country of Women
A lesson of wisdom
strength of arms or wisdom of compassion
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Alexander the Great and the Country of Women
The tale is told that the mighty Alexander the Great learned wisdom from the queen of a country of women and left a message on the city gate”
May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)
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Tell it to your children, and let your children tell it to their children, and their children to the next generation. (Joel 1:3)
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ST24 The Bundle of Arrows
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The Bundle of Arrows
A lesson on strength
Physical strength and strength of faith
Which is stronger?
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The Bundle of Arrows
The discussion of faith reminds one of lesson a 14th century rabbi taught: “Let us be one band, for we are all children of one man.”
May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)
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Diamonds, Riches and the Soul
Once upon a time, there was a poor man who heard that in a faraway land, there was a kingdom where diamonds were as plentiful as dust — one needed only to bend down, pick them up, and fill their pockets.
After a long and difficult journey, the man arrived in this wondrous land. Everything that had been said about it was true! Diamonds of all sizes were strewn around everywhere — even the sand was made up of billions of tiny glittering gems. A group of children gathered to watch the stranger kneeling on the ground and stuffing his pockets with stones and pebbles, but the poor man was too busy to notice them.
To celebrate the end of his poverty, the traveler ordered the finest meal from the inn. Feeling generous, he handed the innkeeper a small-sized stone and told him to keep the change. The innkeeper asked the poor man what he was doing. The poor man said that the diamond was worth a small fortune. The innkeeper realized that the poor man was a stranger and explained that diamonds were so plentiful in the kingdom that they had no value.
The poor man realized that the diamonds, each of which would be worth a fortune in his land, were totally worthless. In this kingdom, people paid for goods and services with the flower, Asteriscus maritimus (sea aster or sea daisy). The flower was originally used to decorate tables. The delicate flower would dry quickly and turn to dust. No one was bothered by the clouds of dust which came from their wallets and purses. The musty smell gave off the sweet impression of old money.
Once the poor man overcame the disappointment of his lost dream, he worked hard, invested wisely, and before long he was one of the wealthiest people in the land. He filled his vaults with thousands and thousands of the valuable flowers.
After a long time he decided to return home. He sent word to his family: “Am rich. We shall never want for anything in our lives. Prepare triumphant homecoming.” He loaded his fortune on a fleet of ships, and set sail for his home.
Family and friends, dressed in their best, awaited him eagerly at the seaport. Of course, there was nothing that could be done with his shiploads of dried, dusty flowers except sail back a few miles from shore and dump them into the sea.
Later that day, as he was unpacking his clothes, he found a small bag of the stones he gathered on his journey. The value of the stones in the bag was so great that the man and his family never again wanted for anything in their lives.
The soul, in its abode on high, hears wondrous tales of a faraway land. To get there, it must cross a deep and treacherous sea. Great treasures, it is told, are literally free for the taking in this place. A coin given to charity, a prayer uttered, a candle lit to usher in Shabbos (the Holy Sabbath Day), a kind word extended to a troubled fellow — the higher realms, lacking physical bodies and a material reality, can only dream of such treasures.
The soul descends into the material world and discovers that everything that had been said about this place is true. Diamonds litter the streets. Wherever one turns, await countless opportunities to do mitzvos, good and G‑dly deeds. One need only bend down to the ground and fill one’s pockets.
Yet the value of these “diamonds” are not appreciated in this alien land. “Riches” of an entirely different sort beckon, so that when the time comes to return, many a soul finds itself lugging home shiploads of dried, dusty flowers.
But no soul can traverse our world without picking up at least a few mitzvos along the way — gems which enrich the heavens and make the entire trip more than worth its while…
May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)
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Tell it to your children, and let your children tell it to their children, and their children to the next generation. (Joel 1:3)
Rachmiel Tobesman is a motivational speaker and Maggid (spiritual Storyteller). He is available for speaking engagements or storytelling, Click here to contact us
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If the stories are not shared they will be lost.
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Marcia’s Story Discussion
I invite everyone to join me in a discussion about stories of faith I have read and listened to Rabbi T tell stories and am curious if the stories touch or affect anyone else.
I first heard Rabbi T tell wonderful stories when I was in religious school and thought they were great. But as I grew older it seemed that the way people acted and treated one another soured me on faith. I doubted the validity of organized religion.
Then a few years ago I discovered the Story Tour Blog and when I read the stories I realized that faith is in me not those who say one thing and do another.
I wonder what other people feel about the stories and if they touch others. Join me in a discussion and let’s see where it goes.