Rabbi Shlomo Yitzchaki was born on February 22nd 1040 generally known by the acronym Rashi (RAbbi SHlomo Yitzhaki). The acronym is sometimes also explained as Rabban Shel Yisrael which means the rabbi of Israel, or as Rabbenu SheYichyeh (Our Rabbi, may he live).
Rashi is one of the most influential Jewish commentators in history. His best-known works are his comprehensive commentaries on the Torah (Bible) and the Babylonian Talmud. His commentaries on the Bible have become a basis of Jewish education to this day; they are often taught side by side with the Torah when students begin learning. All editions of the Talmud published since the 14th century have included Rashi’s commentary in the margins.
Rashi taught without a fee a number of chosen students, earning his living by means of the vineyards he owned. The rabbinic restriction not to receive payment for teaching the Torah was strictly adhered to during the Middle Ages.
Rashi’s house in the French city of Troyes was next to a large vineyard. On warm summer days Rashi would go out early to water the vines. Later he returned, and for the rest of the day the chant of Torah study flowed through the open windows, for stu-dents came to him from cities near and far.
Across from Rashi’s home there lived a crippled Christian boy named François. Early each morning, François watched the bearded man with the mild blue eyes leave his house to water the budding grapes and then sit down at a table under a tree. There the man wrote with a goose quill pen on a piece of parchment. Once François happened to glimpse the writing on the parchment — little black strokes, tiny curving lines linked like flowers in a posy, or like humming-birds in flight.
One summer day, François, sitting at his open window all alone, was stung by a bee. In his vineyard, Rashi heard the boy scream. He put down his goose quill and found the lad in great pain. Rashi calmed him and then applied an ointment which healed the bee sting.
To repay the kind man, François hobbled to the village. Whenever he spied a goose he plucked a feather. When he had a whole bag full he shyly placed before his neighbor a heap of goose quills. Rashi thanked the boy for his thoughtfulness.
François lowered his eyes bash¬fully. On the table lay scraps of parchment. Always those pieces of parchment, he thought.
When François was old enough, his mother enrolled him in a church monastery in the city of Metz. There the youth remained cloistered among the monks.
Many years passed. Rashi had become a famous scholar, surrounded by students eager to study at his feet. Meanwhile, François had become a noted monk. In the city of Metz, he was appointed the leader of a church order.
One summer brought a fearsome drought. Wheat shriveled and cattle were dying of thirst. An epidemic raged in Metz, and Father François became very ill. Some Christians accused the Jewish community of poisoning wells to spread the illness. Leading Christian citizens asked ailing Father François to let them drive the Jews from the city.
The citizens crowded around the bed of the monk, waiting for his signature on the parchment bearing the order. They handed him the parchment scroll and a goose quill pen.
Suddenly something stirred within him. He closed his eyes and saw a scene of long ago.
He saw a large vineyard, a house which rang with the song of Hebrew prayers . . . a man with mild blue eyes had healed him . . . he saw a boy named François plucking feathers from geese and bringing them to the kindly man in Troyes…
Raising himself on one elbow, Father François pushed away the hand holding the goose quill pen and the parchment scroll. Weakly, he ordered horses prepared. He must leave at once for the city of Troyes, two hundred miles away.
Rashi’s household was astonished to see neighing horses careen into the courtyard. Men dressed in black robes carried Father François into the house and Rashi gave the sick man a room and a bed to rest on. He had recognized the monk at once because he remembered the crippled boy.
Father François remained in Troyes for several weeks, and Rashi cured him of his ailment. Meanwhile, he sent a message to Metz to leave the Jews unharmed.
Before Father François left Rashi’s home, he said:
“The goose feathers which I once brought you as a gift have saved me as well as the in the city of Metz. Once again, I owe thanks to you, noble sage.”
Rashi’s blue eyes twinkled as he replied:
“Our rabbis have said: ‘Send your bread upon the waters for it will one day return. (Ecclesiastes 11:1)’ “
Father François returned home, and as long as he lived, no harm ever came to the Jewish people of Metz.
May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)
Click here for more storytelling resources
Tell it to your children, and let your children tell it to their children, and their children to the next generation. (Joel 1:3)