The Falcon, the Eagle, and the King

Posted on Tuesday, 1, November, 2022 by Rabbi

Once upon a time there was a great king whose ministers and governors and followers did not honor him. Now he had raised a falcon from a chick and trained it to hunt. It ate of his food and dwelled in his bosom because he loved it so greatly. In the third year of his reign he wedded and made a feast for all his ministers and attendants, his horsemen and his riders, and he placed the falcon in front of him to display it. The falcon saw an eagle flying to take a fluttering chick, and the falcon grew enraged and flew aloft and trod the eagle underfoot. Then it returned to its master the king, thinking he would approve of his deed. But the king stretched out his hand and took him and twisted his neck.

All the ministers were astounded and said nothing but were very upset. Then the king said to them: “Do not be angry or feel distressed at heart. It is abiding law that none shall act against the anointed one and escape unharmed. For the eagle wears the crown of majesty and rules over all creatures that bear wing and is the king of all who fly. Anyone who rebels against him will have his head crushed. And let that law prevail against every man who holds his king in low esteem!”

Then those who were present were amazed at his cunning and wisdom, and he was feared by all who dwelt in his kingdom.

Kaftor va-Ferach 25 (1322)

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 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 Mystical Melody Part II – The Search

Posted on Friday, 17, January, 2020Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

“Your Majesty, there was an attempt to take over your throne by that jealous Duke Maskil!”

Your Majesty, war has broken out in the kingdom of Tsumisht due to the squabbles of the two lords who rule there!”

The king laughed and thought to himself, “I’ve just returned, but it’s as though I’d never left. What a welcome!”

The king was back into numerous meetings, conferences and consultations. Many documents and papers needed urgent review by the king. Many dignitaries and officials waited anxiously to speak to him. His advisors busied themselves giving him advice he didn’t ask for. After several hours of a grueling schedule, food was brought before him. Doctors surrounded the king, telling him what to eat and what not to eat, what to drink and what not to drink.

Later that night, when he had a few quiet moments to himself in his throne room, the king thought, “It is the perfect time to hum the very special melody.” He leaned back, closed his eyes, relaxed, and imagined that he was in the valley. He began to hum. The melody didn’t sound right. He tried several times, but the king could not remember the song.

The king tried again and again to hum, to remember some piece of the melody, but he could not do it. He couldn’t remember one note of the melody that had that had no beginning and no end; gone too were the feelings, tremors and shivers that it had inspired.

There was pounding at the door now. “Your Majesty, the Duke of the Northern Kingdom has arrived. He must speak with you instantly. He has very important news. He may be able to settle the dispute among his lords.”

“Alright. Bring him in,” said the exhausted, tired king.

The king found himself in endless meetings, trying to make peace among his advisors. Sadly, the king thought to himself, “Life in the palace is so hectic and stressful. If only I could remember that melody.”

All through the meetings the king’s eyes kept drifting off into the distance. He heard almost nothing that was being said. He kept thinking, “The valley, the melody . . . if only I could remember that melody.”

That night the king tossed and turned in his bed. He could not console himself on the loss of the melody, and it seemed to be affecting his health.

In the wee hours of the night, the king’s private doctor was called in. The king looked pale and worn. He would not respond to any of his servants and only moaned, “If only I could remember the song.”The doctor looked into the king’s eyes and said, “Your Majesty, I have an idea. Why don’t we take you back to the valley? Why don’t we find the shepherd who played that melody? The shepherd can be brought right here to the palace, and he can play the melody for you. You can find peace and regain your health.”

The king looked at the doctor, and a smile spread across his face. “You are brilliant. Why that is the simplest idea. Let’s do that immediately.”

“Your Majesty, it is still night. Why don’t you get some rest and early in the morning, we will send our fastest couriers to the valley to find that shepherd and bring him here. I am confident that you will then be cured.”

The king relieved by the advice of the doctor, relaxed and fell asleep within minutes. He slept soundly until the sun rose in the sky.

As soon as the early light of morning allowed a safe journey, the king was up and waiting at his coach. “I must go off to the valley.”

“But, Your Majesty, the meetings . . . .”

“They’ll have to wait. This is much more important.”

It was only hours later that the king, along with twenty of his best soldiers, was standing at the foot of the valley. All they had to do now was wait for the shepherd. They waited for a long time, but the shepherd never came.

The king ordered his soldiers to go to the nearby village and ask, “Does anyone know a shepherd who plays a beautiful melody on the flute? Has anyone seen the shepherd who grazes his sheep in the valley?” they asked of anyone they met.

Sadly, no one knew, no one heard. The king decided to wait another day, hoping the shepherd would come then. The king and his soldiers waited in the valley. Everyone hoped that the morning would bring the shepherd and his melody.

Morning came but still no shepherd. The waiting began again. By now some of the king’s advisors seriously doubted whether the king had not made a mistake. Some began to question in a hushed whisper, “Is our king’s mind still sound?” The doctor believed that the king had indeed heard the shepherd’s melody in this place.

At the end of the third day, the sad king his coach and left with his soldier escort. His dream was crushed.

As soon as he got to the palace, the king shut himself in his throne room. No one was allowed to see him except his trusted doctor. The servants tiptoed through the hallways, and a sense of sadness hung over the palace.

The king’s advisors called meetings to determine what should be done for the king. They all agreed that he was getting sicker each day and that the shepherd must be found at all costs. They decided that a royal proclamation that would be heard throughout the land.

“Hear ye, hear ye…let it be known throughout the kingdom that any shepherd who can play the amazing melody that has no beginning and no end must make his way to the palace at once. He who can play the melody that the king remembers shall be handsomely rewarded.”

The word spread, and within a few days, a long line of shepherds formed at the palace gates. Hundreds of shepherds of all shapes and sizes, flutes in hand, waited for their chance to play their song before the king.

The king, hearing the commotion looked out, and was surprised to see the long line of shepherds.”What has happened here? Who are all these people?” he asked.

“Shepherds, Your Majesty,” said one of the advisors. “They have come here to try to play your song for you.”

“So many of them? Why, they are a bunch of imposters! Only one can know the melody for which I long.”

“That may be so, Your Majesty, but only you know right melody.

The first shepherd was brought before the king. He had only played three or four notes of his song when the king slammed his fist angrily on the table and said, “No! You are an impostor!” Quickly, the shepherd was left the throne room.

The same thing happened with the next shepherd and the next. Every shepherd began to play but was stopped almost immediately by the king and sent out. The king lost his patience. “The next impostor who steps across the threshold of my throne room will be put to death!” he thundered.

Afraid for their lives, the remaining shepherds quickly disappeared. The king sank back into sadness, and the advisors and the doctor were beside themselves with worry.

Days later, it finally happened! From a faraway valley, a shepherd appeared at the palace gates. The shepherd was brought immediately before the king. He bowed and humbly said, “Your Majesty, I am the shepherd that you await. My melody certainly has no beginning and no end, and I know the valley of which you speak. I would be honored to play my melody for you.”

The king looked pleased. He liked the look of this shepherd. As a matter of fact, although he could no longer remember exactly what his shepherd had looked like, this shepherd had a familiar look about him. He motioned to him, “Do sit down. Do play the melody for me.”

The shepherd sat himself down on the floor and said, “Your Majesty, please close your eyes and imagine that you are in the valley. All around you, you see the grass, the blue sky, the sheep, and you hear the echo of this melody.”

The king smiled. He threw his head back in anticipation and listened. The shepherd began to play a mystical song, a song that sounded like a gift from heaven, and the king listened very intently. The shepherd played about five minutes and then he stopped to rest. He looked up at the king. The king’s eyes were tightly closed, and for a long moment he did not say anything. When he opened his eyes, the king took a very long look at the shepherd. There was a deep furrow in his forehead. Softly, he said, “Please, will you play that melody one more time?”

“Certainly, Your Majesty. It would be my pleasure, but remember, lean back, relax and empty your mind of its worries, just as you did when you lay in the valley. Then concentrate on the sounds that come from this flute.”

“Yes, yes,” said the king, “go ahead.”

Again, the shepherd played his soulful melody. Tears streamed down from the eyes of the king.

When the music stopped, the king looked as if he had been shaken from a dream. The king started in his chair and said, “I’m not sure. This might be it. Please, shepherd, play it one more time.”

One more time, the shepherd lifted the flute to his mouth, and the
gentle notes filled the room with a sense of peace.

For a long time, the shepherd played. The king swayed back and forth, listening with great intensity to every note. The tears were all over his cheeks now.

At the end the king blinked several times. He then opened his eyes. It was hard to see clearly through all the tears. He patted his eyes dry and in a small voice said, “Thank you very much. You may go now.”

Excuse me, Your Majesty. Do you mean that I should wait outside?”

“No, I’m sorry,” said the king. “I’m afraid that it’s the wrong song after all. Your song is truly wonderful, and you play the flute masterfully, but still your song is not the right song. For a while there, I thought I had a glimmer of hope that it was, but I’m sorry, it is not.”

The shepherd sat down quietly for a moment. Then he looked deep into the eyes of the king and said, “Your Majesty, would you be so kind as to allow me to ask you one question?”

“Go ahead,” said the king. “You have been most helpful. You may ask your question.”

“Your Majesty,” said the shepherd, “if you do not remember the melody that you heard in the valley, how do you know that this is not it? Perhaps this is the melody that you have forgotten, Your Majesty.”

The king nodded several times. “That is a very good question. How do I know? How will I ever know when I finally hear the song for which I am yearning?”

“My dear shepherd, when I will hear the right melody, my soul will shake. My body will tremble. You see, that is what happened when I heard the song for the first time, and that is what happened each time I heard it again.”

“Today as I listened to your beautiful music, no tingles, no shivers and no trembling overtook me. That’s how I know that it is the wrong song. When the day comes and I hear the right song, I am certain that I will again experience the same feelings that I did every other time that I heard it. But until then, I cannot settle for a substitute. I must wait for the song that reaches my soul.”

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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The Mystical Melody Part I – The Escape

Posted on Monday, 13, January, 2020Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

The full moon was in the night sky, and the palace was silent. The guard who stood watch over the palace gates looked out into the darkness. Everything was quiet and still.

The calm of the night was disturbed by a loud noise. The night watchman spun around in his position at the gate and looked toward the palace. Strangely, it seemed like the noise was coming from within the palace doors themselves. The night watchman pulled out his bow, nocked an arrow, and within seconds, and had it ready to strike.

“Halt! Who goes there?” cried the night watchman.

Whoever it was, continued on with a slow yet steady step. “Halt or I’ll shoot! In the name of the king, stop!”

The warning was ignored, and the steps came closer and closer towards the palace gate.

With very shaky hands, the watchman pulled on the string of his bow. It was taut, and the arrow was ready to be sent into flight. He pointed the arrow-as steadily as he could in the direction of the stranger.

“I give you three seconds,and then you die. Three, two, one…”

He was just about to let go of the string when suddenly, there stood the king. In the light of the moon, the watchman could see the king’s face clearly. He met the king and begged, “Your Majesty, please forgive me. I could have killed you. I was following my orders. Please your Majesty understand.”

Strangely enough, there was a calm look on the king’s face as he looked at his guard and said, “You have done well and have served me well. You have nothing to fear. You will not be punished. But please move out of my way so that I may escape.”

The guard was completely confused. “Escape, your Majesty? From whom do you need to escape? Your Majesty, I will call the rest of the guards, and within moments we will have a strong force ready to protect you. Do not worry.”

“No, no, that is not necessary” the king interrupted. “Look, I don’t have much time to explain. All I can tell you is that I must escape from my palace.”

“I can tell you are surprised. I know exactly what you think; you probably imagine that the life of a king is wonderful. When I was a young prince, I also thought it would be wonderful to be king. I was looked forward to assume the role of king and lead my people. I felt sure that I could use my wealth and power to help the poor and needy, and to negotiate peace with all our neighbors. These are truly important matters, and I wanted to occupy myself with them. But lo and behold when I ascended to the throne, I discovered that the king’s day is filled with a lot of meaningless formalities.

Instead of negotiating peace among countries, I am kept busy keeping peace among my jealous advisors. The palace staff feels that every small detail regarding menus and protocols are more important than state matters. It is assumed that I must have a personal dresser and advisor, who constantly are concerned how I look, who I see and where I stand or sit. I cannot reach my subjects or do the important work I want to do.

“True, the food is delicious, and the grounds are beautiful. The furniture and decorations in the palace are pleasing to the eye, but there is an emptiness in my heart that just won’t let me enjoy them.” The king took a deep breath and sighed, “Please open the gates quietly and don’t make another sound so I can slip out into the darkness.”

“Your Majesty,” questioned the guard. “Who will run the kingdom? Without you on the throne there will be problems. Your Majesty, we all love you and trust you to run the affairs of the state.”

The king smiled, “You are an honourable guard, and I appreciate your loyalty. Don’t worry. I will be back. I am just going away for a short time. I must get away for just a few days. It is my chance to free myself from all these silly details and ponder over what my country really needs.”

Noting the concern still apparent in the watchman’s eyes, the king added, “I am touched by your dedication, my man. Take this purse full of gold coins and spend them well. This is my way of thanking you for keeping my secret. You are a faithful servant, and I know I can trust you.”

“Yes, your Majesty. Thank you, Your Majesty,” was the response of the guard, as he quietly opened the gates. The king slipped out into the dark night.

Moments later in a clearing, the king reached into a hollow of one of the old trees and pulled out a bag of plain peasant’s clothing. The king quietly changed his clothes, and was almost unrecognizable.

The king ran through the darkness, sometimes tripping over the tree roots, but always quickly getting up, running farther and farther away from the palace. After many hours, the king stopped to rest, miles from his palace.

It was a cold and very uncomfortable night for the king, who slept on the bare ground of the forest. As the dawn broke, the king woke in a good mood even though his neck hurt, and his muscles were sore. He was not accustomed to the ways of the woods; yet, he was happy just to breathe the country air, to hear the birds singing and to be surrounded by the beauty of nature.

Here in the forest there were no advisors standing over him; no servants hovering to satisfy his requests or needs. The king was glad he successfully escaped from the palace. He took a few moments to enjoy the forest’s sights and sounds. The birds and small animals were also just rising, and everywhere was the excitement and anticipation that a new day brings.

His thoughts turned to the palace. “They are probably just waking up, and noticing that I am not in the palace. There must be quite a commotion. The guards are probably searching everywhere for me.” Sighing, he reminded himself that he was not yet where he wanted to be. He stood up, stretched, and began walking.

He continued to walk until finally he found himself in a beautiful valley. The grass was a deep, dark green, lush and tall. Flowers of all shades were scattered everywhere making the valley look like a giant rainbow. Here and there grew apple trees whose shade created lovely canopies, and whose fruit seemed as though it would melt in one’s mouth. A small stream trickled over the rocks at one end, and around it grew honeysuckle, filling the valley with a sweet perfume. The king was overcome by the beauty around him. He dropped to the ground, and like a little boy, rolled around and around in the grass. When he finally came to a stop, he lay there lazily, staring up at the deep blue sky and enjoying the view.

He watched the clouds drift across the sky and said, “This is truly a peaceful place. I have waited years for this—a chance to enjoy the beauty of nature alone and to think.” Soon, from the other end of the valley, he heard the sounds of sheep. “What a beautiful sight,” he said, watching at the hundreds of sheep walking aimlessly through the grass, grazing.

“Could there be anything more wonderful than this?” thought the king. Almost as an answer to his question, he heard a soft melody the shepherd played on his flute. “I hope he doesn’t see me,” thought the king, as he hid behind a tree and listened to the beautiful song that the shepherd was playing.

It was an enchanting melody. The king had never heard anything like it in all of his life. It seemed to have no beginning or end. It was a soulful tune, and as it echoed all across the valley, his body began to tremble with the beauty of the song. The melody touched the very core of his being.

The king was astonished. “It seemed that the shepherd wanted to ‘Sing to him, sing praises to him, and tell of all his wonderful works.’ (I Chronicles 16:9) Who could have written such beautiful music with such mystical depth and meaning? I want to listen to this melody forever,” he thought.

Every once in a while, the shepherd rested, and the king waited eagerly for another chance to hear the melody. Then it would start again, and again the king would tremble, shake and shiver. The majestic glory of the melody seemed to have been sent to him from heaven.

The king wanted to thank the shepherd for these moments of peace and rare pleasure, but he was afraid. “No one can know I am here,” he reminded himself and remained still.

Throughout the day, the shepherd played the haunting melody on his flute, and the king listened with rapture. As the sun slowly set, the shepherd put away his flute and herded the sheep out of the pasture.

That night the king slept a deep, restful sleep. He had not enjoyed such a sleep in many months. He heard the shepherd’s melody in his head as he slept. When he woke up, the king felt more rested than he had ever felt in his life.

The next morning, the shepherd returned and played the melody on his flute as he watched the sheep. The king decided, “I must learn this melody and take this song back with me to the palace. When I feel troubled with the pettiness of the palace, I will sing the melody. I will hum it to myself, and I will be instantly transported to the beauty of this valley. That will give me the patience to solve the many problems. I wish I could hold onto this peace forever.”

For three days the king spent his time in the valley in happiness, listening carefully to every note. As the sun set, he realized it was time to return to the palace and take charge of the kingdom’s affairs.

The king began his journey back to his palace and tried to hum the melody to himself. It was very difficult, but the king thought, “I will always remember it, the melody with no beginning and no end. And most of all, I’ll always feel the peace of the melody that came to me from heaven.”

Hours later, the king was back at the palace gates. Instantly, the commotion began. His servants were everywhere, the guards surrounded him, and everyone demanded his full attention. “Your Majesty, where were you? We were searching everywhere!”

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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To Whom Shall I Leave My Kingdom?

Posted on Monday, 25, November, 2019Tuesday, 20, September, 2022 by Rabbi

Once the King of a large kingdom was growing old. He decided that it was time to select the next king from among his four sons, so he called them in one at a time to discuss who would rule his kingdom.

When the first son entered the chamber of the King and sat down, the King spoke to him. “My son, I am very old and will not live much longer. I wish to entrust my kingdom to the son best suited to receive it. Tell me, if I leave my kingdom to you what will you give to the kingdom?”

Now this son was very rich. So when asked the question, he replied: “I am a man of vast wealth. If you leave me your kingdom I will give it all of my wealth and it will be the richest kingdom in the entire world.”

“Thank you, son,” the King said as he dismissed the son.

When the second son entered, the King spoke to him. “My son, I am very old and will not live much longer. I wish to entrust my kingdom to the son best suited to receive it. Tell me, if I leave my kingdom to you what will you give to the kingdom?”

Now this son was very intelligent. So when asked the ques¬tion, he answered: ” Are we not taught ‘Who is fit to rule? A sage invested with power or a king who seeks wisdom.’ (Mibhar haPeninim #4) I am a man of vast intelligence. If you leave me your kingdom I will give it all of my intelligence and it will be the most intelligent kingdom in the entire world.”

“Thank you, son,” the King said as he dismissed the son.

When the third son entered, the King spoke to him. “My son, I am very old and will not live much longer. I wish to entrust my kingdom to the son best suited to receive it. Tell me, if I leave my kingdom to you what will you give to the kingdom?”

Now this son was very strong. So when asked the question, he replied: “I am a man of great strength. If you leave me your kingdom I will give it all of my strength and it will be the strongest kingdom in all the world.”

“Thank you, son,” the King said as he dismissed the son.

The fourth son entered and was greeted by the King in the same fashion as the other three. “My son, I am very old and will not live much longer. I wish to entrust my kingdom to the son best suited to receive it. Tell me, if I leave my kingdom to you what will you give to the kingdom?”

Now this son wasn’t especially rich, or smart, or strong. So he replied, “My father, you know that my brothers are much richer, smarter and stronger than I. While they have spent years gaining these attributes, I have spent my time among the people in your kingdom. I have shared with them in their sickness and sorrow. And I have learned to love them. I’m afraid that the only thing I have to give to your kingdom is my love of the people. I have learn from you, my brothers and the people of your kingdom a deep meaning from the ancient words of ben Zoma, ‘Who is wise? One who learns from every man… Who is strong? One who overpowers his inclinations… Who is rich? One who is satisfied with his lot… Who is honorable? One who honors his fellows.’ (Pirke Avos – Ethics of the Fathers, 4:1) I know that my brothers have more to offer than I do, therefore I will not be disappointed in not being named your heir. I will simply go on doing what I have always done.”

When the king died the people anxiously awaited the news as to their new ruler. And the greatest rejoicing the kingdom ever knew took place when the fourth son was named by the King as his successor, for “the king, in essence, is the people.” (Sheves Yehudah #7)

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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The Beggar King

Posted on Wednesday, 13, November, 2019Wednesday, 10, January, 2024 by Rabbi

Proud King Hagag sat on his magnificent throne, and a holy man reading from the Holy Book, as was his daily custom. The holy man read these words: “for riches do not last forever, nor a crown for all generations” (Proverbs 27:24).

“Cease!” cried the king. “Who wrote those words?”

“They are the words of the Wisest of Kings,” answered the holy man.

“Give me the book,” commanded the king.

With trembling hands, the holy man placed it before his majesty. King Hagag gazed earnestly at the words that had been read, and he frowned. Raising his hand, he tore the page from the book and threw it to the ground.

“I, Hagag, am king,” he said, “and all such passages that offend me shall be torn out.”

He flung the volume angrily from him while the holy man and all his courtiers looked on in astonishment.

“I have heard enough for today,” he said. “Too long have I delayed my hunting. Prepare the horses immediately.”

He came down from the throne, stalked angrily past the trembling figure of the holy man, and went out to hunt. Soon he was galloping across an open plain toward a forest when a wild stag darted across the field. A trumpet sounded and the hunt began. The king urged his horse forward to be the first in the chase. His steed was the swiftest in the whole kingdom.

In his excitement of the chase, the king vanished from the sight of his nobles and attendants. The deer was surprisingly swift and the king could not catch up with it. Coming to a river, the animal plunged in and swam across. Scrambling up the opposite bank its antlers caught in the branch of a tree, and the king, arriving at the river, gave a cry of joy.

“Now I have you,” he said. Springing from his horse and stripping off his clothes, he swam across with nothing but a sword.

As he reached the opposite bank, the deer freed itself from the tree and plunged into a brush. The king, with his sword in his hand, followed quickly, but could not find the deer. Instead, he found, lying on the ground beyond the thicket, a beautiful youth clad in a deerskin. He was panting as if after a long run. The king stood still in surprise and the youth sprang to his feet.

“I am the deer,” he said. “I am a messenger and I have lured you to this spot, proud king, to teach you a lesson for your words this morning.”

Before King Hagag could recover from his surprise, the youth ran back to the river and swam across. Quickly he dressed himself in the king’s clothes and mounted the horse just as the other hunters came up. They thought the messenger was King Hagag and they halted before him.

“Let us return,” said the messenger. “The deer has crossed the river and has escaped.”

King Hagag from behind a tree on the opposite side watched them ride away and then flung himself on the ground and wept bitterly. There he lay until a woodcutter found him.

“What do you here?” asked the man.

“I am King Hagag,” answered the king.

“You are a fool,” said the woodcutter. “You are a lazy good-for-nothing to say such things. Come, carry my bundle of sticks and I will give you food and an old garment.”

Unsuccessfully the king protested. The woodcutter only laughed the more, and at last, losing patience, he beat him and drove him away. Tired and hungry, and clad only in the rags that the woodcutter had given him, King Hagag reached the palace late at night.

“I am King Hagag,” he said to the guards, but told him to go away. The king spent a terrible sleepless night in the streets of the city. The next morning, he was glad to accept some bread and milk offered to him by a poor old woman who took pity on him. He stood at a street corner not knowing what to do. Little children teased him; others took him for a beggar and offered him money. Later in the day, he saw the messenger ride through the streets on his horse. All the people bowed down before him and cried, “Long live the king!”

“Woe is me,” cried Hagag, in his unhappiness. “I am punished for my sin in scoffing at the words of the Holy Book.”

He saw that it would be useless for him to go to the palace again, and he went into the fields and tried to earn his bread as a laborer. He was not used to work, however, and but for the kindness of the very poorest he would have died of starvation. He wandered miserably from place to place until he fell in with some blind beggars who had been deserted by their guide. Joyfully he accepted their offer to take the guide’s place.

Months rolled by, and one morning the royal heralds went forth and announced that “Good King Hagag” would give a feast in one week and all the beggars in the land were invited to attend.

From all over the kingdom, beggars came to enjoy the feast, and Hagag stood among them, with his blind companions, in the courtyard of the palace waiting for his majesty to appear. He knew the palace well, and he hung his head and wept.

“His majesty will speak to each one of you who are his guests today,” cried a herald, and one by one they passed into the palace and stood before the throne. When it came to Hagag’s turn, he trembled so much that he had to be supported by the guards.

The messenger on the throne and Hagag looked long at each other.

“Are you a beggar also?” said the messenger.

“No, gracious majesty,” answered Hagag with bent head. “I have sinned seriously and have been punished. I am but the servant of a troop of blind beggars to whom I act as guide.”

The messenger king signed to his courtiers that he desired to be left alone with Hagag. Then he said, “Hagag, I know you. I see that you have repented. It is well. Now you can take your rightful place upon the throne.”

“Gracious majesty,” said Hagag, “I have learned humility and wisdom. The throne is not for me. The blind beggars need me. Let me remain in their service.”

“It cannot be,” said the messenger. “I see that you truly regret you past actions. Your lesson is learned and my task is done. I will see that the blind beggars lack nothing.”

With his own hands he placed the royal robes on Hagag and himself donned those of the beggar. When the courtiers returned they saw no difference. King Hagag sat on the throne again, and nowhere in the whole world was there a king who ruled more wisely or showed more kindness and sympathy to all his subjects.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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The Humble Request of the King’s Son

Posted on Tuesday, 21, September, 2010Wednesday, 20, September, 2023 by Rabbi

A prince once angered his father, the king, by his disrespect and misbehavior. Furious, the king banished his son from the palace without giving him a penny. His son wandered from city to city, collecting alms and barely managing to take care of himself.

When he grew weary of collecting charity, he made his way to the house of an elderly villager and offered to perform any form of labor that he desired, be it in the house or the field.

The villager took the young boy into his home, and the man was not disappointed. The boy worked with great enthusiasm and performed any task that his master requested, whether it was working in the fields or tending to the animals. In exchange, the villager allowed the boy to board in his home, and he provided him with a meager meal as well.

One day, the villager died, and his estate fell into the hands of his son. Trouble soon arose, however, as the son was a wicked man who increased the workloads of all of the villager’s servants while at the same time decreasing their benefits.

Meanwhile, the king was in his palace in the capital city. He was sad and depressed over not having received any word of his son throughout the past several years, and not having any idea where he was or what he was doing. He therefore decided to travel around his kingdom and proclaim wherever he went that whoever had a request to make of the king or a grievance that needed to be settled was invited to come before him and state his claim.

Indeed, wherever the king went, long lines formed, consisting of the heavily burdened as well as dispute between parties, in order to relate their troubles to the king.

The king’s travels eventually brought him to the city in which his son resided. The son, as well, was among the individuals who lined up to speak with the king, and when it came his turn, he fell before the king and cried, “Your Highness! I work for a certain villager who forces me to do overbearing labor! I beg of you, order him to provide me with bread each day and not to oppress me so…”

The king fell on his son’s neck and exclaimed:

“Woe is me, that I must see you in such a state! Are you so heavily burdened that you have completely forgotten about your esteemed lineage? You are the son of a king, and your place is in the palace of kings. Instead of asking me for stale bread, ask me for permission to return to the palace!”

The Jewish people are the children of princes, kings and priests, but the darkness of exile and the oppression we have endured have caused us to forget this fact. We therefore stand in prayer and request no more than a slice of bread.

Restore us to You, O Lord, that we may be restored, renew our days as of old (Lamentations. 5:21).

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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A Rock and the King’s Greatness

Posted on Friday, 3, September, 2010Monday, 18, September, 2023 by Rabbi

A king was traveling along the road, leading a large group of advisors and knights. Their journey led them to the edge of a field surrounded by a fence. Since they were pressed for time, the king ordered that the fence be torn down so they could pass through.

The field was owned by a simple hard working villager. He did not know the king at all and thought that the men who had broken the fence to his field were a group of hunters. He became angry and threw stones and dirt at them; one of the stones struck the king in the head.

The simple villager was immediately seized by the king’s men and brought to trial. It did not take long for the court to reach a decision. The farmer was sentenced to death for his crime of rebelling against the king.

The villager would not go unpunished, however, as the king ordered him to clean the streets of the capital city.

The man was first instructed to clean the streets that were quite a distance away from the king’s palace. Next he cleaned the areas immediately surrounding the palace, and ultimately the king’s courtyard. With each area that he cleaned, the villager began to understand the scale of the kingdom and just how powerful and awesome the king truly was. Having arrived at this understanding, it also dawned on him to what degree he had wronged the king and just how severe his crime had been.

When he had concluded his task, he turned to the minister in charge and requested that he bring him before the king so that he would be able to ask him for his forgiveness.

A man who sins does not have any understanding of the greatness of G-d and therefore stumble and sins on occasion. Had he understood how powerful and awesome the Holy One, blessed be He is, he would plead and request for forgiveness for his soul.

May you be inscribed for a year of blessings, sweetness, success and health

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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Then those who were present were amazed at his cunning and wis­dom, and he was feared by all who dwelt in his kingdom.

Kaftor va-Ferach 25 (1322)

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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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

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“Your Majesty, there was an attempt to take over your throne by that jealous Duke Maskil!”

Your Majesty, war has broken out in the kingdom of Tsumisht due to the squabbles of the two lords who rule there!”

The king laughed and thought to himself, “I’ve just returned, but it’s as though I’d never left. What a welcome!”

The king tried again and again to hum, to remember some piece of the melody, but he could not do it. He couldn’t remember one note of the melody that had that had no beginning and no end; gone too were the feelings, tremors and shivers that it had inspired.

There was pounding at the door now. “Your Majesty, the Duke of the Northern Kingdom has arrived. He must speak with you instantly. He has very important news. He may be able to settle the dispute among his lords.”

“Alright. Bring him in,” said the exhausted, tired king.

The king found himself in endless meetings, trying to make peace among his advisors. Sadly, the king thought to himself, “Life in the palace is so hectic and stressful. If only I could remember that melody.”

All through the meetings the king’s eyes kept drifting off into the distance. He heard almost nothing that was being said. He kept thinking, “The valley, the melody . . . if only I could remember that melody.”

That night the king tossed and turned in his bed. He could not console himself on the loss of the melody, and it seemed to be affecting his health.

The king looked at the doctor, and a smile spread across his face. “You are brilliant. Why that is the simplest idea. Let’s do that immediately.”

“Your Majesty, it is still night. Why don’t you get some rest and early in the morning, we will send our fastest couriers to the valley to find that shepherd and bring him here. I am confident that you will then be cured.”

The king relieved by the advice of the doctor, relaxed and fell asleep within minutes. He slept soundly until the sun rose in the sky.

As soon as the early light of morning allowed a safe journey, the king was up and waiting at his coach. “I must go off to the valley.”

“But, Your Majesty, the meetings . . . .”

“They’ll have to wait. This is much more important.”

It was only hours later that the king, along with twenty of his best soldiers, was standing at the foot of the valley. All they had to do now was wait for the shepherd. They waited for a long time, but the shepherd never came.

The king ordered his soldiers to go to the nearby village and ask, “Does anyone know a shepherd who plays a beautiful melody on the flute? Has anyone seen the shepherd who grazes his sheep in the valley?” they asked of anyone they met.

Sadly, no one knew, no one heard. The king decided to wait another day, hoping the shepherd would come then. The king and his soldiers waited in the valley. Everyone hoped that the morning would bring the shepherd and his melody.

At the end of the third day, the sad king his coach and left with his soldier escort. His dream was crushed.

As soon as he got to the palace, the king shut himself in his throne room. No one was allowed to see him except his trusted doctor. The servants tiptoed through the hallways, and a sense of sadness hung over the palace.

The king’s advisors called meetings to determine what should be done for the king. They all agreed that he was getting sicker each day and that the shepherd must be found at all costs. They decided that a royal proclamation that would be heard throughout the land.

“Hear ye, hear ye…let it be known throughout the kingdom that any shepherd who can play the amazing melody that has no beginning and no end must make his way to the palace at once. He who can play the melody that the king remembers shall be handsomely rewarded.”

The word spread, and within a few days, a long line of shepherds formed at the palace gates. Hundreds of shepherds of all shapes and sizes, flutes in hand, waited for their chance to play their song before the king.

The king, hearing the commotion looked out, and was surprised to see the long line of shepherds.”What has happened here? Who are all these people?” he asked.

“Shepherds, Your Majesty,” said one of the advisors. “They have come here to try to play your song for you.”

“So many of them? Why, they are a bunch of imposters! Only one can know the melody for which I long.”

“That may be so, Your Majesty, but only you know right melody.

The first shepherd was brought before the king. He had only played three or four notes of his song when the king slammed his fist angrily on the table and said, “No! You are an impostor!” Quickly, the shepherd was left the throne room.

The same thing happened with the next shepherd and the next. Every shepherd began to play but was stopped almost immediately by the king and sent out. The king lost his patience. “The next impostor who steps across the threshold of my throne room will be put to death!” he thundered.

Afraid for their lives, the remaining shepherds quickly disappeared. The king sank back into sadness, and the advisors and the doctor were beside themselves with worry.

The king looked pleased. He liked the look of this shepherd. As a matter of fact, although he could no longer remember exactly what his shepherd had looked like, this shepherd had a familiar look about him. He motioned to him, “Do sit down. Do play the melody for me.”

The shepherd sat himself down on the floor and said, “Your Majesty, please close your eyes and imagine that you are in the valley. All around you, you see the grass, the blue sky, the sheep, and you hear the echo of this melody.”

“Certainly, Your Majesty. It would be my pleasure, but remember, lean back, relax and empty your mind of its worries, just as you did when you lay in the valley. Then concentrate on the sounds that come from this flute.”

“Yes, yes,” said the king, “go ahead.”

Again, the shepherd played his soulful melody. Tears streamed down from the eyes of the king.

When the music stopped, the king looked as if he had been shaken from a dream. The king started in his chair and said, “I’m not sure. This might be it. Please, shepherd, play it one more time.”

One more time, the shepherd lifted the flute to his mouth, and the gentle notes filled the room with a sense of peace.

For a long time, the shepherd played. The king swayed back and forth, listening with great intensity to every note. The tears were all over his cheeks now.

At the end the king blinked several times. He then opened his eyes. It was hard to see clearly through all the tears. He patted his eyes dry and in a small voice said, “Thank you very much. You may go now.”

Excuse me, Your Majesty. Do you mean that I should wait outside?”

“No, I’m sorry,” said the king. “I’m afraid that it’s the wrong song after all. Your song is truly wonderful, and you play the flute masterfully, but still your song is not the right song. For a while there, I thought I had a glimmer of hope that it was, but I’m sorry, it is not.”

The shepherd sat down quietly for a moment. Then he looked deep into the eyes of the king and said, “Your Majesty, would you be so kind as to allow me to ask you one question?”

“Go ahead,” said the king. “You have been most helpful. You may ask your question.”

“Your Majesty,” said the shepherd, “if you do not remember the melody that you heard in the valley, how do you know that this is not it? Perhaps this is the melody that you have forgotten, Your Majesty.”

The king nodded several times. “That is a very good question. How do I know? How will I ever know when I finally hear the song for which I am yearning?”

“My dear shepherd, when I will hear the right melody, my soul will shake. My body will tremble. You see, that is what happened when I heard the song for the first time, and that is what happened each time I heard it again.”

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)

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The full moon was in the night sky, and the palace was silent. The guard who stood watch over the palace gates looked out into the darkness. Everything was quiet and still.

“Halt! Who goes there?” cried the night watchman.

Whoever it was, continued on with a slow yet steady step. “Halt or I’ll shoot! In the name of the king, stop!”

The warning was ignored, and the steps came closer and closer towards the palace gate.

With very shaky hands, the watchman pulled on the string of his bow. It was taut, and the arrow was ready to be sent into flight. He pointed the arrow-as steadily as he could in the direction of the stranger.

“I give you three seconds,and then you die. Three, two, one…”

Strangely enough, there was a calm look on the king’s face as he looked at his guard and said, “You have done well and have served me well. You have nothing to fear. You will not be punished. But please move out of my way so that I may escape.”

Then those who were present were amazed at his cunning and wisdom, and he was feared by all who dwelt in his kingdom.

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.

One more time, the shepherd lifted the flute to his mouth, and the
gentle notes filled the room with a sense of peace.