Fifty Year Old Honey

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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

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The Case of the Stolen Necklace

Posted on Wednesday, 29, January, 2020Friday, 28, March, 2025 by Rabbi

There was a Jewish merchant in Cordova named Yaakov haJoyero. He was honest and good to all he met. He studied the Holy Books and made time for prayer every day. One day, there was entrusted to him a necklace of fine gemstones and precious pearls to be sold for five hundred pieces of gold.

He was walking by the way, carrying the necklace in his hand, when he was met by a nobleman, who was one of the king’s favorites. The nobleman called to him: “Yaakov, what type of necklace is that?” He answered, “My lord, it is entrusted to my hand to be sold.”

“And for how much will you sell it for?” “The price is five hundred pieces of gold,” Yaakov replied.

The nobleman asked, “Will you sell it for four?” Yaakov answered, “I cannot, for its owner instructed me not to accept less than five hundred pieces of gold.”

The nobleman thought for a moment and then said, “Take it then to my house, and if it pleases my lady, I will buy it.” So, Yaakov haJoyero went with the nobleman until they reached the gate of his house. The nobleman instructed, “Stand here until I bring out to you either the money or the necklace.” The nobleman entered his house and shut the door behind him. Yaakov haJoyero waited until evening, but no one came out of the door of the house.

“When the sun set, Yaakov left the nobleman’s house and went to his home full of sadness and anger. Sorrow oppressed his heart and wounded it. He lay down on the ground and did not eat. No one in his family ate that night. He did not change his clothes, nor did he close his weary eyes. He tossed and turned all night.

In the morning, he arose and went to the nobleman’s house, but he had left his house for the day. He wandered the market, saw the nobleman, and ran to meet him.

Yaakov haJoyero confronted him and demanded, “My lord, buy the necklace if you will, or else return it, and I will sell it to another.” The nobleman answered, “Of what necklace do you speak? Have you by chance dreamt of such a necklace?” Yaakov said, “The necklace of fine gemstones and pearls which you took from my hand yesterday.”

“You are mad, afflicted with some evil spirit,” said the nobleman. “By my life and the life of the king, were I not noble born, I would take your head from your shoulders. Then I would trample in your blood.” When Yaakov heard the anger and hardness of the nobleman’s words, he became so fearful that he turned and ran away. The nobleman glared at him with anger and hatred until he disappeared from sight.

“He went to the house of the dayan (the judge), and when the dayan looked at him saw that sorrow had bitten into him with its fangs. He saw his appearance, and his face was dark because of his sadness.

The dayan addressed him, “What bothers you so much that you are so downcast? Have you been badly abused?” Yaakov replied, “My lord, I am in a very bad way. I am afraid to tell you about it out of fear that you might not believe what I have to tell.” The judge gently answered, “Take a deep breath and tell me what is bothering you. Your words are true in my sight as I know you to be honest and faithful in all you do.”

So Yaakov told the judge everything that had happened to him related to the necklace. He then asked that the judge be lenient with him. The judge reassured Yaakov, “Remove anger from your heart and put away your sadness. Don’t tremble nor groan from your pain, for I will restore the necklace to you.”

“And it came to pass on the next day that he summoned all the great men of the city, its elders, and wise men, and sages, to come to the place of judgment. For it was his practice to occasionally to gather the wise men and to speak with them of justice. So they all came to his house, to listen to the words of his understanding and his wisdom. But as they came the judge said to his servant: “When the nobleman comes, take his shoe and go to his house and say to his wife, ‘My lord, your husband sent me to you to retrieve the necklace which he bought yesterday or the day before because he would like to show others its great beauty. As a sign that this is his wish, he has given me his shoe to show you.’ “

When the woman saw her husband’s shoe she gave the necklace to the servant of the judge. He quickly brought it to his master and hid it in his coat until the wise men left the place of judgment. When they left, his master asked him, “Have you brought the necklace?” “’I have it in my coat,” he answered and gave it to the judge. Then the judge sent for Yaakov haJoyero and said to him, “Be calmed, and do not worry any longer, for I have returned to you the necklace. I have removed it from the nobleman’s house that which he had stolen.” When the merchant saw the necklace he kissed the judge’s hand and blessed him and carried it to his house joyful and glad at heart.

Sefer Sha’ashu’im – 12th Century Spain

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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Justice and Lamps: A Tale from Kurdistan

Posted on Friday, 13, December, 2019Tuesday, 19, December, 2023 by Rabbi

There once was a Jewish man who went out into the world to seek justice, as it is written, “Justice, justice, shall you pursue” (Deuteronomy 16:20). Somewhere, he was certain true justice must exist, but he had never found it. So, he set out on a quest that lasted for many years. He went from town to town and village to village, and everywhere he went, he searched for justice. But never did he find it.

In this way many years passed, until the man had explored all of the known world except for one last, great forest. He entered that forest without hesitation, for by now he was fearless, and he went everywhere his quest led him. He went into the caves of the men of the forest with a message, “Blessed are they who observe justice, who do righteousness at all times.” (Psalms 106:3) The men of the forest laughed and mocked him and said, ” ‘if you seek it like silver, and search for it as for hidden treasures’ (Proverbs 2:4) you might find it, but ‘do you really expect to find justice here?’ “

He went farther into the forest and met the women of the forest as they drew water from the streams and ponds with the message, “let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an overflowing stream.” (Amos 5:24) The women of the forest laughed and mocked him and answered, “What you seek is not here here?”

He went deeper and deeper into that forest, until at last he arrived at a little clay hut. Through the window he saw many flickering flames, and he was curious about them. So he went to the door and knocked. No answer. He knocked again. Nothing. At last he pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Now, as soon as he stepped inside that cottage, he realized that it was much larger on the inside than it had seemed to be from the outside, and it was filled with hundreds of shelves, and on every shelf there were dozens of oil lamps. Some of those lamps were in precious holders of gold or silver or marble, and some were in cheap holders of clay or tin. And some of the holders were filled with oil and the flames burned brightly, while others had very little oil left.

All at once an old man, with a long, white beard, wearing a white robe, appeared before him. “Shalom Aleichem (Peace be upon you) , my son,” the old man said. “How can I help you ?”

The man replied, “Aleichem shalom (and to you peace). I have gone everywhere searching for justice, but never have I seen anything like this. Tell me, what are all these lamps?”

The old man said, “Each of these lamps is the light of a person’s soul. As long as the lamp continues to burn, that person remains alive, but when the lamp burns out, that person’s soul takes leave of this world.”

The man asked, “Can you show me the lamp of my soul?”

The old man said, “Follow me,” and he led him through that long labyrinth of the cottage, which the man now saw must be endless. At last they reached a low shelf, and the old man pointed to a clay lamp and said, “That is the light of your soul.”

Now the man took one look at that lamp, and he began to tremble—for the wick was very short, and there was very little oil left, and it looked as if the wick would slide into the oil and sputter out. He wondered, could the end be so close without his knowing it? Then he noticed the lamp next to his own, also in a clay holder, but that one was full of oil, and its wick was long and straight and its flame burned brightly. “And whose lamp is that?” the man asked.

“I can only reveal each man’s lamp to himself alone,” the old man said, and he turned and left.

The man stood there, quaking. All at once he was startled to hear a sputtering sound, and when he looked up, he saw smoke rising from another shelf, and he knew that somewhere, a soul had just taken leave of the world. He turned back to his own lamp and saw there were only a few drops of oil left. Then he looked again at the lamp next to his own, so full of oil, and a terrible idea entered his mind.

He looked for the old man in every corner of the cottage, but he didn’t see him anywhere. Then he picked up the lamp next to his own and lifted it up above his own. At that instant, the old man appeared out of nowhere, and gripped his arm with a grip like iron. And the old man said: “Is this the kind of justice you are seeking? ‘you that turn justice to wormwood, and bring righteousness to the ground! (Amos 5:7)’ “

The man closed his eyes because it hurt so much. When he opened his eyes, he saw that the old man was gone, and the cottage and the lamps had all disappeared. He found himself standing alone in the forest, and he heard the trees whispering his fate. And he wondered, had his candle burned out? Was he, too, no longer among the living?

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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What Was the Donkey Looking For?

Posted on Thursday, 21, November, 2019Friday, 14, February, 2025 by Rabbi

The three words, Dan L’Chaf Zechus, mean “judge according to a scale of merit.” Sometimes, this isn’t easy because every day, we judge the world around us by our perceptions. Our sages taught “judge every man favorably” (Pirke Avos 1:6) and “receive every person with a cheerful countenance” (Pirke Avos 1:15) (Chavos haLavavos, Shaar haKnia 18:8)

A gray, long-eared donkey was sauntering through the royal gardens. Jasmine bushes clinging to the fence released a sweet-smelling fragrance, but the donkey snorted at them angrily.

“Who needs you? You block the view to the other side of the garden!”

Golden marigolds bobbed their flowers cheerfully alongside velvety roses, arranged according to soft shades of pink and red. Tulips raised their aristocratic goblets to get their fill of the pleasant sunshine while birds dipped inside to taste their delicious nectar.

The irritated donkey trampled down the flower beds while hissing through his ugly yellow teeth, “Why must you stand in my way? Why must you sting me with your prickly thorns!”

Leafy elms spread their protective arms, creating a canopy of lovely green shade for all those who, captivated by the beautiful garden, sank at their feet to rest and daydream.

Golden marigolds bobbed their flowers cheerfully alongside velvety roses, arranged according to soft shades of pink and red. Tulips raised their aristocratic goblets to get their fill of the pleasant sunshine while birds dipped inside to taste their delicious nectar.

The irritated donkey trampled down the flower beds while hissing through his ugly yellow teeth, “Why must you stand in my way? Why must you sting me with your prickly thorns!”

Leafy elms spread their protective arms, creating a canopy of lovely green shade for all those who, captivated by the beautiful garden, sank at their feet to rest and daydream.

To roam until it came upon a row of garbage pails in the furthest yard. A thick, disgusting smell filled the air, and pesky green flies buzzed in greeting. The donkey pushed aside the pail cover to reveal piles of rotting vegetables, crying gleefully, “Ah, finally, I’ve discovered a pleasant corner in this big stupid garden!”

Are we not sometimes like that brutish, insensitive donkey when we look only for faults and defects in others when there are so many fine points about them? Sometimes, we search for the little ugly flies among people who are really fragrant with good deeds and fine characters.

Only donkeys — and fools — search among the rubbish heaps of a royal garden.

When we judge others favorably, the picture is reversed. Then we look for roses and tulips even among the thorns — and often find them.

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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Judging Oneself and Others Favorably

Posted on Sunday, 25, August, 2019Wednesday, 7, February, 2024 by Rabbi

We speak and learn so much about religion, values, prayer and ritual, yet forget the important aspects of faith. To live by the standards established in the holy words of the T’NaCh (Scriptures). We should look upon all around us favorably and give them the benefit of the doubt.

The rabbis taught about two thousand years ago: “In righteousness you shall judge your neighbor… with justice you shall judge your neighbor. (Leviticus 19:15.) When you see a person doing what appears to be wrong, take a favorable view of his action.” (Shevu’os 30a)

Judging others favorably not only fulfills a religious requirement, it provides a number of benefits.

The Rambam (Rabbi Moses Maimonides c. 1135 – 1204) wrote a book which systematically discusses the 613 commandments of the Torah (Scriptures) in which he “stated that each person is required to judge others favorably …promotes peace and friendship and therefore, the purpose of this mitzvah (the mitzvah to judge righteously) is to improve society with a sense of righteousness and provide peace by removing suspicion of one to another. (Sefer HaChinuch no. 235)

The Mishna in Pirkei Avos directs that “One should judge all people favorably.” (Avos 1:6) Rabbeinu Yonah (d. 1263), in his commentary to Avos 1 :6, writes that we should assume that they realize their mistakes and are working on trying to improve themselves. This concept is often associated with the prohibition against accepting evil speech and gossip.

Once upon a time a religious man ransomed a beautiful woman from prison, and when they came to the inn in the evening, he put the young woman to sleep at the foot of his bed. In the morning he immersed himself in the purifying waters, and then he went to teach his students.

While he was teaching them he asked his students, “Did you suspect me of anything last night when you saw the young maiden lying at the foot of my bed?”

They answered, “We did not suspect you of anything; we thought that you put her near you because you had among your students one whom you did not know, and you would not let her sleep in a separate room for fear that harm might come to her.”

Then the religious man asked, “Why did you think I went in the morning and immersed in the purifying waters?”

“What else do you believe we could have thought,” replied his students, “except that probably on the way you had touched something unclean which made it necessary for you to immerse in the purifying waters?”

Then he said, “I swear that it was exactly as you thought. And as for you–as you judged me on the scale of merit, so may He who is everywhere judge you on the scale of merit

Based on B. Shabbos 127b and Ma’asah Book #21

We learn that Heaven never passes a decree upon a person before the person has himself passed judgment. If a person were asked outright what punishment he deserved for a particular sin, he would deny that he deserved any punishment at all. So instead, a person is shown another person sinning in the same way and is asked, somehow, to comment on the other’s action. Whatever he says the other deserves, then becomes his own punishment.

We find this happening with King David, who was visited by Nasan the Prophet. Nasan told him the parable of the poor man who had only one lamb. Only when King David became inflamed over the injustice did Nasan suddenly accuse him, telling David, “You are that man.” But David had already passed his own judgment. (II Samuel 12: 1-5)

This is why our Sages urged us to judge others favorably. When a person judges others in a good light, he is, in effect, passing a favorable judgment on himself!

We find this idea expressed in Psalms as well. “Deliver me from all my sins; do not make me a disgrace before the degenerate” (Psalm 39:9). King David asked Hashem to keep him from censuring unworthy people, lest he inadvertently pass judgment on himself.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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Judging Oneself and Others Favorably

Posted on Monday, 11, February, 2019Wednesday, 21, September, 2022 by Rabbi

We speak and learn so much about religion, values, prayer and ritual, yet forget the important aspects of faith. To live by the standards established in the holy words of the T’NaCh (Scriptures). We should look upon all around us favorably and give them the benefit of the doubt.

The Torah (Scriptures) directs us: “In righteousness you shall judge your neighbor… with justice you shall judge your neighbor. (Lev. 19:15.) When you see a person doing what appears to be wrong, take a favorable view of his action.” (Shevu’os 30a)

Judging others favorably not only fulfills a religious requirement, it provides a number of benefits.

The Rambam (Rabbi Moses Maimonides c. 1135 – 1204) wrote a book which systematically discusses the 613 commandments of the Torah (Scriptures) in which he “stated that each person is required to judge others favorably …promotes peace and friendship and therefore, the purpose of this mitzvah (the mitzvah to judge righteously) is to improve society with a sense of righteousness and provide peace by removing suspicion of one to another. (Sefer HaChinuch no. 235)

The Mishna in Pirkei Avos directs that “One should judge all people favorably.” (Avos 1:6) Rabbeinu Yonah (d. 1263), in his commentary to Avos 1 :6, writes that we should assume that they realize their mistakes and are working on trying to improve themselves. This concept is often associated with the prohibition against accepting evil speech and gossip.

Once upon a time a religious man ransomed a beautiful woman from prison, and when they came to the inn in the evening, he put the young woman to sleep at the foot of his bed. In the morning he immersed himself in the purifying waters, and then he went to teach his students.

While he was teaching them he asked his students,
“Did you suspect me of anything last night when you saw the young maiden lying at the foot of my bed?”

They answered, “We did not suspect you of anything; we thought that you put her near you because you had among your students one whom you did not know, and you would not let her sleep in a separate room for fear that harm might come to her.”

Then the religious man asked, “Why did you think I went in the morning and immersed in the purifying waters?”

“What else do you believe we could have thought,” replied his students, “except that probably on the way you had touched something unclean which made it necessary for you to immerse in the purifying waters?”

Then he said, “I swear that it was exactly as you thought. And as for you–as you judged me on the scale of merit, so may He who is everywhere judge you on the scale of merit

Based on B. Shabbos 127b and Ma’asah Book #21

We learn that Heaven never passes a decree upon a person before the person has himself passed judgment. If a person were asked outright what punishment he deserved for a particular sin, he would deny that he deserved any punishment at all. So instead, a person is shown another person sinning in the same way and is asked, somehow, to comment on the other’s action. Whatever he says the other deserves, then becomes his own punishment.

We find this happening with King David, who was visited by Nasan the Prophet. Nasan told him the parable of the poor man who had only one lamb. Only when King David became inflamed over the injustice did Nasan suddenly accuse him, telling David, “You are that man.” But David had already passed his own judgment. (II Samuel 12: 1-5)

This is why our Sages urged us to judge others favorably. When a person judges others in a good light, he is, in effect, passing a favorable judgment on himself!

We find this idea expressed in Psalms as well. “Deliver me from all my sins; do not make me a disgrace before the degenerate” (Psalm 39:9). King David asked Hashem to keep him from censuring unworthy people, lest he inadvertently pass judgment on himself.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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The Tree that Spoke in Court

Posted on Monday, 11, June, 2018Friday, 26, April, 2024 by Rabbi

Two men stood before the beis din (rabbinic court), telling two completely different stories.

“A year ago”, declared Chaim, and well-to-do merchant, “my friend and neighbor Shimon came to me, begging for help. His business was failing, and he said that if I loaned him 1000 silver coins. He could pay off his creditors, who were growing very impatient. He would then buy merchandise and make a new start. We were friends, and he was in trouble, so I immediately gave him the money. I trusted him. Now time is past when I asked for the money back. He refused to give it to me.”

“Why should I return the money? I didn’t take?” Answered Shimon. “There was no such loan. Where is your proof?” He demanded.

“Proof?” Chaim’s face was scarlet, with rage. “You were my friend, I helped you out. I didn’t even ask for a receipt. Now, after all I did for you, you steal my money and call me a liar!”

As was his way, the holy rabbi who led the court looked intently at the two angry men and began to question each of them closely. He asked for all of the details of the transaction, carefully watching each man’s reactions.

“I remember it exactly,” Chaim said, in response to the holy rabbi’s question of when the loan had been arranged. “Shimon and I were standing beneath a white tree when we discussed his business troubles. It was a hot day and we enjoyed the shade tree gave us. I told him that I was a little uncomfortable loaning money without a witness and he told me to let the tree be the witness.”

Up until now it has been business as usual in the beis din (rabbinic court): two men argue a case, each giving his own version in a room where logic, justice, and truth hung in the very air.

justice

Suddenly, the holy rabbi introduced an unusual request.

He turned to the wealthy merchant and instructed him, “If the tree is the witness then the tree must come and testify. Go to the tree where you made the deal.”

Chaim stared. “Now?”

“That’s right, now. Bring me a branch from the tree. With the help of the Holy One, blessed be He, the branch will help me to reveal the truth.”

When Chaim rushed out of the room, a puzzled silence fell. No one had the courage to question the holy rabbi but everyone wondered how in the world a branch could help find the answer. Could a tree, then, speak of what it had seen a year ago?

Time passed and the holy rabbi looked out the window and saw that the sun was setting. He looked out the window frequently and seemed to be growing impatient. “Where is Chaim already?” He said, half to himself. “The day is almost gone and evening is coming and I want to get this finished today. Why is he taking so long?”

“It will be a while until he gets back,” Shimon said helpfully. “The tree is quite a distance from here. Perhaps the holy rabbi should see someone else in the meantime.”

“No,” said the holy rabbi, his face expressionless, “let us wait for the branch and hear what it has to tell us.”

Not long afterward, Chaim walked back into the room. Feeling a bit silly, he placed the branch on the table in front of the holy rabbi.

The holy rabbi stared at the branch intently for a few seconds. The others looked at it as well, a long brown piece of wood with small knots and a few twigs still stuck to it. It was, in fact, nothing more than the branch of a tree.

The holy rabbi turned his gaze on the two men standing before him, a look of quiet satisfaction on his face. “The tree branch has spoken and told me that Shimon has, indeed taken the money and it must be returned.”

“Nonsense!” Shimon exploded. “How in the world… Trees don’t speak!”

“This one did,” the holy rabbi said. His face was stern and his voice was serious. “The tree spoke, and you spoke. If you had not taken the loan, how did you know where the tree was located? You knew very well what tree Chaim was going to, and that’s the proof that Chaim’s story was true.”

Shimon, realizing that he had fallen neatly into the judge’s trap, shamefully admitted that he had, indeed taken the money and tried to get out of repaying the loan. “You don’t know what it’s been like,” he said, sobbing. “I’m just beginning to see some success in my business. If I have to pay the loan back now I will be ruined, bankrupt. My family…. We will all go hungry. I didn’t want to lie, but I had no choice.”

The holy rabbi’s eyes flashed fire, but he gently put his hands on the broken man’s shoulder. “Every man has a choice. Your sins have been many. You stole, you lied, and you betrayed a friend.” He stared at the man his penetrating gaze seeming to pierce his very soul. Then he turned to the victorious plaintiff, Chaim.

“I believe your friend Shimon sincerely regrets his actions. He is admitted that he owes you the money in front of the beis din. We allow him to pay the loan off, enabling him to continue in business?”

After a moment’s thought, Chaim agreed to let Shimon repay him on easy terms. The two men then left together, not yet friends, but no longer enemies. In his hand, Chaim held a brown branch, to bring home in order to show his family and friends the tree that had spoken.

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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Two Merchants, Silver and the Witness of the Tree

Posted on Thursday, 4, January, 2018Wednesday, 21, September, 2022 by Rabbi

There were once two merchants whose names were Yosef and Chanan. Now Yosef was a very simple and hard-working man who was always saying Psalms and greeted everyone with a good word and a smile. Chanan was very knowledgeable in the ways of buying and selling and was always trying to get more wealth. Yosef and Chanan were friends and frequently traveled together and often shared space at the markets.

One day, after the market closed, the two merchants took to the road. When they stopped for the night they counted their profits and discovered they had between them over 1000 silver coins. When they arrived at the next market Yosef suggested they divide the profits equally.

Chanan thought for a moment and answered his friend, “there are many in the market who would try to take our money and then we will have nothing. Let us hide the money under a tree and if we need money we can get it and divide it equally.”

The two merchants found a large oak tree, dug a hole and buried their bag of silver coins. The very next day, while Yosef was in the marketplace Chanan came and took the money from the hiding place.

A few days past and Yosef decided that it was time to divide the money. He found Chanan the two of them went to the oak tree in the forest. They dug beneath the tree and found nothing.

Chanan became very angry and said, “is this the way friends treat one another? Return the money and we will go our separate ways and never speak of this again.”

Yosef was shocked and confused. “I have not been to this place since we buried our profits.”

Chanan became even angrier and demanded they go to the holy rabbi of the village for justice. The holy rabbi listened to Chanan as he presented his account of the situation and asked, “are there any witnesses to the truth of what you are saying?”

Chanan thought for a moment and answered the holy rabbi, “the oak tree under which we buried the silver shall be the witness.” Chanan looking very serious continued, “let us ask the old oak tree who stole the silver.”

The holy rabbi was surprised at the words of Chanan, but agreed to go with the two merchants to the old oak tree in the forest.

That night Chanan went to see one of his close friends and persuaded him to hide in a hollow of the oak tree. “When the rabbi asks, who stole the money?” He told his friend to respond, “Yosef took it in the darkness of night.”

The next day the two merchants and the holy rabbi went into the forest. They went to the old oak tree where they had hidden the money. The rabbi walked around the tree three times then asked, “tell us if you can, who stole the bag of silver coins?”

A voice came from inside the tree, “Yosef came in the night and took the money.”

The holy rabbi was wise and asked Chanan if there were any other witnesses. Chanan thought for a moment and answered the moon is also a witness for no case can be determined without two witnesses let us ask the moon what it had seen. The holy rabbi was again surprised by Chanan’s answer.

The holy rabbi lifted his arms toward the moon and said, It is written, “The heavens shall vanish away like smoke, and the earth shall wax old like a garment” (Isa. 51:6). I remind you that before asking for justice from you, we should ask for justice for ourselves, for it is said, “The moon shall be confounded and the sun ashamed” (Isa. 24:23). Tell us if you can, who stole the bag of silver coins.”

The holy rabbi and the two merchants waited quietly for the moon to bear witness of what happened that night to the silver coins hidden beneath the old oak tree. The wind whispered, but the moon remained silent.

The rabbi saw some men who were working in the forest and asked them to set the tree on fire. The flames began to climb up the trunk of the tree when a voice cried out, “let me out! Let me out! I don’t want to burn to death!”

They dragged a man out of the hollow of the old oak tree. He was singed and very afraid, but he confessed that it was his friend Chanan who had stolen the money.

Yosef was given all of the money and Chanan was punished by his own words, his own trickery and the judgment of the holy rabbi.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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Two Merchants, Silver and the Witness of the Tree

Posted on Sunday, 22, February, 2015Wednesday, 21, September, 2022 by Rabbi

There were once two merchants whose names were Tam and Chacham. Now Tam was a very simple and hard-working man who was always saying Psalms and greeted everyone with a good word and a smile. Chacham was very knowledgeable in the ways of buying and selling and was always trying to get more wealth. Tam and Chacham were friends and frequently traveled together and often shared space at the markets.

One day, after the market closed, the two merchants took to the road. When they stopped for the night they counted their profits and discovered they had between them over 1000 silver coins. When they arrived at the next market Tam suggested they divide the profits equally. Chacham thought for a moment and answered his friend, “there are many in the market who would try to take our money and then we will have nothing. Let us hide the money under a tree and if we need money we can get it and divide it equally.”

The two merchants found a large oak tree, dug a hole and buried their bag of silver coins. The very next day, while Tam was in the marketplace Chacham came and took the money from the hiding place.

A few days past and Tam decided that it was time to divide the money. He found Chacham the two of them went to the oak tree in the forest. They dug beneath the tree and found nothing.

Chacham became very angry and said, “is this the way friends treat one another? Return the money and we will go our separate ways and never speak of this again.”

Tam was shocked and confused. “I have not been to this place since we buried our profits.”

Chacham became even angrier and demanded they go to the holy rabbi of the village for justice. The holy rabbi listened to Chacham as he presented his account of the situation and asked, “are there any witnesses to the truth of what you are saying?”

Chacham thought for a moment and entered the holy rabbi, “the oak tree under which we buried the silver shall be the witness.” Chacham looking very serious continued, “let us ask the old oak tree who stole the silver.”

The holy rabbi was surprised that the words of Chacham, but agreed to go with the two merchants to the old oak tree in the forest.

That night Chacham went to see one of his close friends and persuaded him to hide in a hollow of the oak tree. “When the rabbi asks, who stole the money?” He told his friend to respond, “you must say that Tam took it.”

The next day the two merchants in the holy rabbi went into the forest. They went to the old oak tree where they had hidden the money. The rabbi walked around the tree three times then asked, “tell us if you can, who stole the bag of silver coins?”

A voice came from inside the tree, “Tam came in the night and took the money.”

The holy rabbi was wise and asked Chacham if there were any other witnesses. Chacham thought for a moment and answered the moon is also a witness for no case can be determined without two witnesses let us ask the moon when it had seen. The holy rabbi was again surprised by Chacham’s answer.

The holy rabbi lifted his arms toward the moon and said, It is written, “The heavens shall vanish away like smoke, and the earth shall wax old like a garment” (Isa. 51:6). I remind you that before asking for justice from you, we should ask for justice for ourselves, for it is said, “The moon shall be confounded and the sun ashamed” (Isa. 24:23). Tell us if you can, who stole the bag of silver coins.”

The holy rabbi and the two merchants waited quietly for the moon to bear witness of what happened that night to the silver coins hidden beneath the old oak tree. The wind whispered, but the moon remained silent.

The rabbi saw some men who were working in the forest and ask them to set the tree on fire. The flames began to climb up the trunk of the tree when a voice cried out, “let me out! Let me out! I don’t want to burn to death!”

They dragged a man out of the hollow of the old oak tree. He was singed and very afraid, but he confessed that it was his friend Chacham who had stolen the money.

Tam was given all of the money and Chacham was punished by his own words, his own trickery and the judgment of the holy rabbi.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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The Story Tour Blog has grown to over 250 short stories about faith. Many visitors to the Story Tour Blog have requested that the stories be gathered together into a book. 72 of these special tales are now available in the new book

Story Tour: The Journey Begins

Available at Amazon and Barnes & Noble

for more information about this special book, please see the Story Tour: The Journey Begins page

Money, Listening and Justice

Posted on Monday, 6, January, 2014Friday, 21, March, 2025 by Rabbi

Two men came before the holy rabbi seeking justice in resolving a monetary dispute. The non-Jewish man claimed that the Jewish man had borrowed money from him, but the Jewish man denied that he owed the other man anything. The holy rabbi sensed that the non-Jewish man was truthful.

The holy rabbi listened to both men. After hearing the arguments of both sides, he told them that he had to leave for a little while and asked them to discuss the matter between themselves in the meantime.

The arbitration was held in the local synagogue, and the two men thought that the rabbi they asked to judge the merits of their dispute had left the synagogue.

The holy rabbi had not left; he had gone up to the women’s section and was listening to every word the two men were saying.

A heated argument erupted between them, and the holy rabbi heard the non-Jewish man talking at the Jewish man as ‘He fixed his gaze and stared at him until he was ashamed.’ (2 Kings 8:11) “Aren’t you ashamed? You know very well that you borrowed money from me, and how can you claim that you don’t owe me anything?”

“It’s true that I borrowed money from you, “the Jewish man responded, “but I’m under a lot of financial stress right now, and I don’t have the money to pay back.”

Hearing this, the holy rabbi went back down into the synagogue and ruled in favor of the non-Jewish man, reprimanding the Jewish man for his shameful behavior, he said: “To rob a non-Jewish person is more dreadful than to rob a Jewish person, for such actions cloud justice and also involves the desecration of G-d’s Holy Name.”

Later, he explained that he had derived this strategy of leaving the two men alone and listening in to their conversation from the verse,

As the men were leaving the holy rabbi and the synagogue, the non-Jewish man remarked:

The simple meaning of the verse is that a judge, to fairly dispense justice, has to listen to both sides equally and not give preferential treatment to one side.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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