Part I – A Lamp and a Blessing
Many years ago there lived in Tunisia a holy rabbi, who was highly respected by all the people in his community. He spent most of his time studying the Torah. After a few hours of sleep, he would to get up in the middle of the night to recite Tikkun Chatzot a Jewish prayer recited as an expression of mourning and lamentation over the destruction of the Holy Temple in Jerusalem. He would then joyfully return to study Torah and other holy writings until the early hours of the morning.
One night, he was distressed to find that he had no way to light his oil lamp. Then he remembered that his Arab neighbor, the baker, probably still had a fire in his oven. So the Rabbi went across the street and knocked on the baker’s door, hoping he might still be awake.
The baker had already gone to bed and was fast asleep. The Rabbi kept on knocking until the baker finally opened the door and demanded, sleepily, to know why he was being disturbed in the middle of the night.
“I’m sorry to bother you,” answered the rabbi apologetically, “but I need a light for my lamp.”
There were still some flickering coals in the oven, so the baker kindled a firebrand and gave it to the rabbi.
The rabbi thanked the baker and left. He had hardly crossed the street when the wind blew out the firebrand. As much as he hated to bother the baker again, the rabbi made his way back to the bakery and knocked again on the door.
The sleepy baker got out of bed again and opened the door, looking surprised and annoyed.
“Please forgive me for troubling you again, but the wind blew out the light. I am very sorry…”
Muttering to himself, the baker went to fetch a freshly lit kindling stick, and gave it to the Rabbi without a word. The rabbi thanked him very much, wished him a very good night, and left.
This time he reached his door successfully, but just as he was about to open it, a gust of wind blew out the light again.
“Enough is enough,” a voice inside of him said, “give up and go to bed!”
“Oh no!” The rabbi heard himself say, determined that he would not let anything keep him from his holy studies. He turned around and went to his Arab neighbor for the third time.
Not surprisingly, the baker was frustrated this time, and he opened his door to the rabbi saying:
“With all due respect to you, honorable rabbi, it is the middle of the night and I work from early morning until late afternoon. Every time you knock I have to lift this heavy iron bar to open the door for you.”
“Believe me, I am truly sorry to cause you so much trouble, but it is most important that I can light my lamp to study G-d’s holy word. The Holy One, blessed be He will surely reward you for your good deed with so much gold that would outweigh by far that heavy iron bar!”
The Arab baker had a great respect for the holy rabbi’s blessing. His frustration disappeared and, he observed, “I see you are not used to handling firebrands; this time I’ll take it across for you and make sure that your lamp is lit.”
Saying this, the baker put on his coat, took a burning kindling stick and sheltering it with his coat, successfully brought it into the Rabbi’s house and lit his lamp.
Happy to have received such a wonderful bless¬ing from the holy rabbi, the baker returned home, while the rabbi sat down with a grateful heart and immersed himself in his holy study.
The baker had no doubt that the rabbi’s bless¬ing would be fulfilled. But day followed day and nothing happened. He continued to sweat at his oven, scraping coal, but not gold.
“I guess I am not worthy of the rabbi’s blessing; I’d better forget all about it,” the baker concluded sadly.
One day, as he took a stroll towards the bazaar to cool off and catch a breath of fresh air, a stranger approached him and asked him if he was looking for work.
“I have a job. I’m a baker, and while it brings me no riches, I make a living, thanks to the Holy One, blessed be He.”
“I see you’re an honest man,” said the stranger. “I need a man like you for my business. What if I offered you five times the amount you earn from your bakery; would you be interested to work for me for a few months?”
“If it’s just for a few months, I’d first have to find someone to take over my bakery for that period of time.”
“Good,” said the stranger. “Let’s meet here tomorrow at the same time.”
The following day, when the baker arrived at the arranged meeting place, the stranger was already there waiting for him.
“I’m ready to start working for you,” the baker announced.
“Very good, come with me.”
The stranger led the baker through a maze of unfamiliar winding streets, uphill and downhill, turning now right now left, until he finally stopped in a side alley.
“I hope you’ll not mind being blindfolded,” the stranger said to the baker. “No one, not even you, must know where you are working; and you must not breathe a word to anyone about the kind of work you’re doing for me.”
The stranger took out a long kerchief and blindfolded the baker. They continued walking for a short distance, then stopped again. Here the stranger led the baker down some steps, took out a large key and opened a creaking door.
“Here we are,” said the stranger, removing the blindfold from the baker’s eyes.
The baker found himself in a windowless cellar, where, by the light of a lamp that the stranger had lit, he saw a long table, with a couple of chairs. On the table lay many small bags, bulging with golden coins and jewels, worthy of a royal treasury.
“Your job,” said the stranger “is to help me separate the coins and jewels and sort them out in heaps according to their size. Then you will have to count them, record the totals, and put them into bags.”
They got busy without further talk except for the instructions the baker received. He liked the work very much, and the time passed quickly.
“That’s enough for today,” said the stranger finally. He gave the baker his day’s wages, five times the amount he would have earned from his bakery. He then put aside a golden coin, saying, “Each day, in addition to your wages, I shall put aside a golden coin for you, and when the entire job is finished I shall give you all the accumulated coins as a parting gift.”
The stranger again blindfolded the baker, unlocked the cellar door, and led him out, carefully locking the door after them. Up the steps, they went and after some distance, he removed the blindfold. They continued by a different way and finally came to the place where they had met for the first time.
“Until tomorrow morning, same time, same place,” the stranger said, and went his way.
They met every morning and spent the day working together in that secret cellar, until one morning, several weeks later, the stranger did not turn up. The baker waited for him for a long time in vain, so he went home. The same thing happened the following day. When the stranger didn’t turn up on the third day either, the baker concluded that something must have happened to him, for they had not fin¬ished their work. “Where can I look for him? I don’t know his name, or where he lives; so that’s the end of that.” There was nothing left for him to do but to return to his work at the bakery.
May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)
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Tell it to your children, and let your children tell it to their children, and their children to the next generation. (Joel 1:3)
