Tzviki Moyz and the Blessings of Shabbos

Posted on Thursday, 12, September, 2019Wednesday, 21, September, 2022 by Rabbi

The holy rabbi of the city would prepare for Shabbos all week long. For him Shabbos was the most important time, so much so that it was all he thought about. If a woman came to him asking if a chicken was kosher, he’d answer, “It’s good for Shabbos.” If a young student would ask why the letter shin has three points, the holy rabbi would explain, “If we look at the letter shin we are reminded the element of fire – the Shabbos lights, the element or air – the Shabbos berachahs (blessings) and zimiros (songs), and the element of water –the Shabbos wine.”

For the holy rabbi everything was Shabbos. As the sun slowly set and the time for licht bentch’n (kindling the Shabbos lights), at that very second his wife kindled lights for Shabbos, the world changed. With her gentle gestures and heartfelt prayer, she invited the holiness of Shabbos into the house.

Tzviki Moyz was a simple Jewish tailor who was very quiet and did not speak very much. He would wander into the old wooden shul other would notice that he could hardly pray without making mistakes. One erev Shabbos he entered the old wooden shul and the people could hardly recognize him. He was full of joy. The spirit Shabbos was burning in his heart. A special holiness was upon him. The people in the shul asked him what had made this sudden change in him. Tzviki Moyz explained:

Everyone knows that I was very poor. Everyday was a struggle just to feed his family and keep a roof above their heads. One day my wife and I realized that if we continued this way all our lives, what will be with our children. They also would not have enough to live on. For five years, we decided to not buy anything extra. We saved over 500 rubles and hoped to buy a business. Possible we would be successful.

And so for five years, every coin they saved was hard, finally we saved more than 500 rubles. I came into the city for a business to buy. I searched all day for a good opportunity and the time slipped away, when I realized that Shabbos was only one hour away. I went to the house of the holy rabbi and told him of my situation, and asked him to guard the money until after Shabbos. The holy rabbi asked me to be his guest for Shabbos.

Tzviki Moyz and the holy rabbi were talking, when the door opened and a woman came in crying. Her husband was supposedly the richest man in city. He died recently, and his wife only then realized that he not only did not have a lot of money, but he actually owed a lot of money to other people. The wedding of her daughter was supposed to take place right after Shabbos and she needed to pay 500 rubles for the wedding. If she could not pay the money before the wedding, she would have to tell them that she was poor. It would be such an embarrassment. Who knew if the groom’s parents wouldn’t call off the wedding? She said, “I’m sorry I didn’t come before, but I couldn’t because I was too embarrassed.”

The holy rabbi said, “Oy! What will I do now? How can I collect 500 rubles only minutes before Shabbos!”

I heard all this and said, “Please give her my 500 rubles. I am still young, I can save again.” The holy rabbi argued with me, but matter what he said I decided to give my money to the widow. She left full of joy.

Now, open your hearts. The holy rabbi said, “Tzviki Moyz, I don’t even have to bless you that you should become wealthier than you ever dreamed of, because it’s obvious that you will. It’s also obvious that you will live to see the weddings of your great-great grandchildren. But there is one thing I would like to bless you with. Because of you, two precious souls had a wonderful Shabbos. What would this poor widow and her daughter have done all Shabbos? They would have cried all Shabbos. You gave Shabbos to two precious souls, so I want to bless you that you should have the blessings of Shabbos all your life.

Within a month, I became very wealthy. I really don’t know how it happened. I knew that the wealth I had was because of Shabbos and so every week I gave money to the holy rabbi to help others on Shabbos. There was one condition; no one was to know where the Shabbos gelt came from.

I bless you with the bliss of Shabbos.

How can we receive the bliss of Shabbos? How can we take all the anger and pain out of your heart, and really be able to taste Paradise? We have to first give Shabbos to someone who doesn’t have it.

Why do we have to invite guests for Shabbos? Because if I want to have the bliss of Shabbos, I have to first give Shabbos to someone who doesn’t have it.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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An Act of Kindness Saved Shabbos

Posted on Thursday, 24, January, 2019Friday, 26, January, 2024 by Rabbi

In the year 1493, all Jewish people who lived in Spain were forced to leave the country. Any Jewish person that remained had to become Christian or be killed. It was against the law to keep the Torah and mitzvos (commandments) especially Shabbos and holidays. Many Jewish people did not want to leave the country without their belongings and means instead they tried to keep the Torah and mitzvos secretly. It was a very dangerous and terrifying time.

The Francesco family was among those who remained in Spain and kept their Torah observance secretly. Every week, the mother, Rachel, lit her Shabbos (Sabbath) candles and welcomed the Shabbos – Holy Sabbath into their home. She made sure that all windows and doors were shut tightly so that no neighbor could see. The Grandmother sat quietly on the side remembering better times for her family and how her family would gather together each Friday evening to celebrate Shabbos together. Michoel, the father, davened (prayed) kabbalas Shabbos (Welcoming the Sabbath service) with his two sons. They did this silently, so that no neighbor could hear.

Sadly, few secrets remain hidden for long. Peeking through a crack in the wooden window slat, someone looked into their house. This wicked neighbor saw Michoel praying with his two sons and the two lit candles on the table. He immediately ran to notify the police.

“I have found secret Jews keeping their Saturday Sabbath,” he announced. The police rushed to the Francesco house and banged loudly at the door. “Open up,” a harsh voice commanded. “We know there are secret Jews hiding in this house. Open the door or we will break it down!”

Michoel was filled with fear, yet he had no choice but to let the police in. The captain came into their house followed by his troops. “Tie their hands and march these Jewish renegades to the church. The Inquisition will punish them!”

Everyone in the Francesco house quivered with fear; they were terrified. They were sure they would be killed. Suddenly, the captain of the police noticed the Grandmother. I know this woman, he thought. I remember this kind woman from when I was a child. Every morning, she gave me candies when I passed by her house. And whenever I felt hurt or someone was mean to me she was always so kind and gentle. I cannot harm her or her family, his conscious told him.

“No, no, no,” barked the captain to the troops. “We are mistaken! I know these people. They are not Jewish. The man was probably just talking with his sons. And those two candles on the table are probably lit to light up the house on this dark evening.”

“Soldiers, return to your homes,” said the captain. “Let us not disturb these people anymore!” Michoel was stunned and could not believe what he was hearing. The captain winked at Michoel as he and his troops left the house.

Michoel breathed a giant sigh of relief and raised his hands to Hashem (G-d) thanking him for the great miracle of saving him and his family. He then told his family “We must continue with all our strength and mesiras nefesh (Self-sacrifice) to adhere to Torah and mitzvos and never desecrate the holy Shabbos.

That night long ago reminded the Francesco family that “Whoever pursues righteousness and kindness will find life and honor.” (Proverbs 21:21)

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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Shabbos Lights Strengthen and Protect

Posted on Friday, 30, November, 2018Friday, 29, March, 2024 by Rabbi

An old woman lit her Shabbos candles and smiled as she drew in the holiness of Shabbos – the Holy Sabbath Day. Her three grand-daughters watch her carefully as they had so many times and wondered why she always smiled each week in front of the Shabbos candles .

“Bubbie, why do you always smile when you bentch Shabbos licht (light the Shabbos candles)?” asked her oldest grand-daughter. The old woman seemed to look beyond her grand-daughters and slowly said, “ki eshmerah Shabbos Keil yishmereini — “When I guard the Shabbos, Hashem (G-d) will safeguard me.” She took a long breath and continued, “It happened so long ago…”

The skies were leaden and the strong winds roared furiously. The trees were shedding their leaves at a rapid rate, so that streets newly swept had to be swept again. Leaves and bits of litter danced haphazardly on the wind’s back.

It was a dismal scene, certainly not one calculated to warm the broken hearts of the Jewish prisoners working in the munitions factory. About a thousand Jewish women labored there. Supervision was constant and harsh. From time to time a female S.S. supervisor would make a surprise inspection; these visits usually ended in heavy punishments.

On this gray autumn day, a piece of exciting information was whispered in my ear.

“I’ve gotten hold of candles — Shabbos candles. Do you want to light them, Miriam?”

I stared at my friend. She smiled, saying, “Don’t you believe me? Shabbos candles! I found some wax in the department where I work. I melted it down in one of these boxes — and here they are. Shabbos candles!”

My heart soared. Shabbos lights, in the very midst of the darkness that pressed in on us from every side! In the center of the arctic menace, a tiny pinpoint of light and warmth — the Shabbos flames.

In that instant, I forgot the S.S. overseers, forgot instruction manuals, arms and missiles, forgot the cold and the whips and the starvation rations. I forgot the image of the loaded gun that was never far from my inner eye. In short, I forgot where I was. The whispered secret I had just heard had the power to spirit away the ugly munitions factory and everything in it.

“Well?” my friend asked. “Do you want to light the candles?”

“Yes!”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Afraid — of what?”

“The whip, the gun, the gas chamber — “

I cut her off. “I’m afraid of the stick in the hand of my Father in Heaven. I intend to fulfill my obligations as a Jewish woman.”

That night, my friend smuggled her treasure to me. There were two simple candles, concealed in a long cylinder. I clutched them to my heart, feeling almost as if I had found my lost child, snatched out of my arms many days before —as if I had found a portion of my own heart that they had stolen away.

What power did those candles have? How were they were able to ignite such a flame inside me? I had no explanation. I only knew that I sensed the souls of all the righteous women through the ages reaching out to me through those candles. Perhaps, too, I saw my mother’s covered face, and felt her spirit illuminate my subdued and broken heart.

I hid the candles in my bag — a collection of rags, actually, in which I occasionally managed to store a crust of bread for some sick friend. There were still two days until Shabbos, two days of unremitting gloom. Those two days seemed infused with the light to come — the light of Shabbos. At last I understood our Sages’ words: “Zachor es yom haShabbos” — Remember the Shabbos, remember it every day. If you come across some delicacy that will not spoil, buy it in honor of the Shabbos. I had no delicacy, no special food for Shabbos, but I had something very valuable indeed — Meyn heilige Shabbos licht – my holy Shabbos candles.

Friday came. In my room, 14 Jewish girls had completed the day’s work and were preparing to welcome the Shabbos Queen. The room was unfurnished except for a single old chest and our cots. I placed the candles atop the chest. I wanted to give all my friends the opportunity to share in my mitzvah by answering “Amen.”

The time for candle lighting approached. It was the lovely hour before sunset; the western skies were already stained crimson and purple. Today it seemed seven times more beautiful than usual, as though the sun itself had decided to adorn our room in honor of the Shabbos before sinking out of sight. A ray of sunlight wandered into the room and rested for a moment on the candles. It gave them a golden glow, making the simple homemade candles seem taller, nobler. Even as I trembled, the ray trembled, too, and moved on.

Thirteen pairs of eyes fixed themselves on me. Some of them reflected the fear we all shared — the fear that the enemy would intrude on our precious sanctuary. Every eye shone with the fire that had been kindled in every heart. Each one of us knew how closely her own being was bound with the lighting of those candles. We were ready for anything.

I stepped up to the candles. “Just like my mother used to do,” I heard someone whisper behind me. I sensed rather than saw the way the others nodded their heads, their throats choked with tears.

I struck a match, and lit the candles.

I passed my hands over the candles and was about to bring my fingertips to my eyes when, suddenly, heavy footsteps sounded in the corridor. We recognized those footsteps. They belonged to our S.S. supervisor. Our hearts stopped.

Quickly, I covered my eyes and recited the blessing. “Blessed are You … to light the Shabbos candle.” I remained where I was, hands over my eyes, pleading in a strange, strangled voice, “Master of the Universe, You know that I did not do this for my own pleasure or honor. I did it to honor You, to honor the holy Shabbos, so that everyone would remember that You created the world in six days and rested on the seventh.”

The supervisor flung open the door. With a single glance she took in the entire scene. We all stood frozen in a silence that seemed shatterproof. As I continued praying with covered eyes, she stood silent, astounded.

When I removed my hands, I heard her issue a sharp order. “Go outside to the waiting truck!”

The other girls hurried to obey her command, with the S.S. woman following close behind. I was left alone in the room. I looked at the candles. “Will my lighting these candles lead to all my friends being carted away to who-knows-where?” I wondered, near despair.

The flames burned brightly as my lips moved in soundless prayer. I felt as though all of history’s good women were bearing my prayers directly to the Holy Throne. And then peace returned, and I knew with certainty: My friends would not be harmed because of these holy candles.

Slowly, I walked outside to join the others. A short distance away, I saw the parked truck. I tentatively made my way toward it. Just as I arrived, my friends appeared from behind the truck, bearing loaves of bread.

Their faces were serene as they explained, “She ordered us to take these loaves to the kitchen.”

Uncontrollably, I said the blessing. “she’asah nisim la’avoseinu bayamim haheim baziman hazeh – Blessed are You Who performed miracles for our ancestors in those days at this time”and then I whispered, “ki eshmerah Shabbos Keil yishmereini – When I guard the Shabbos, Hashem (G-d) will safeguard…”

I lifted my eyes heavenward. The sun had not yet sunk beneath the rim of the horizon. A last stripe of light lingered at the western edge of the sky, as though to proclaim the miracle. Then, its job finished, it disappeared — and the Shabbos Queen descended on the world.

Gut Shabbos meyn zissele kinderlach – Good Shabbos my sweet children

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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The Shabbat Lion

Posted on Thursday, 16, August, 2018Friday, 15, December, 2023 by Rabbi

A widow and her four children lived in the city of Fez. Every day was a struggle to care for her children and she worked very hard in the market. Her oldest son, Shelomo, tried to help his mother by doing odd jobs, but there is only so much a young boy can do. His mother insisted that whatever he did, he was not to neglect his Torah studies.

Every week the widow would gather her children around the table on erev Shabbat and they would welcome the Shabbat Malka. There was always special food and such a feeling of peace throughout Shabbat.

Shelomo prayed and wished that the day would come that his mother did not have to work so hard. He tried real hard to keep the house neat and his brothers and sisters from arguing. One day a merchant came to the house with a letter from Fustat. Shelomo wondered who in faraway Mitzrayim (Egypt) knew his family.

He ran to the market carrying the mysterious letter to give to his mother. She took it, opened it and read it as tears trickled down her cheeks. Shelomo got angry that someone in a far off place made his mother cry.

The widow dried her tears and explained. It happened that they had a relative in Fustat who was very wealthy and left a fortune to them. She was glad about the wealth that could benefit her children, but was sad when she realized that she could not travel across the aṣ-ṣaḥrāʼ al-kubrá (the Great Desert) with her children. She would not be able to go to Fustat to retrieve the fortune.

Shelomo offered to go for his mother. The widow looked at her 12 year old son and admired his willingness, but he was still a boy. She felt that a boy could not survive a journey across the Great Desert and back. Shelomo reminded her that in a few short months he would be bar mitzvah and be considered a man in the Jewish community. The widow agreed to send her son to get the fortune in Fustat and bring it back.

The widow sold some of her jewelry and wrapped up food for her son’s journey and gave him directions and much advice. She approached a caravan leader for a ride and was assured that the caravan would stop for Shabbat, so Shelomo joined the group.

On Friday afternoon, after traveling many days through the Great Desert, Shelomo saw that the sun would be setting in an hour and the leader of the caravan was not stopping. “Excuse me sir, but are we not stopping?” he asked. The caravan leader answered, “Boy, I know this part of the desert and this is too dangerous of a place to stop.”

The sun was moving lower on the afternoon horizon. The caravan was still in the dry desert wilderness, yet Shelomo got down off of his camel, and announced that he would remain in the desert for the next day so that he would not be m’chalel Shabbat – in violation of the Sabbath Day.

“What? Are you insane?” cried his fellow travelers. “The desert is no place for a boy to remain alone. The sun is hot, the wind is harsh, the land is dry, and there are wild beasts that will tear you to pieces. There are lions in the wilderness, which will gobble you up in one bite,” the caravan members said. “Not even a camel would want to stay.”

Shelomo put his faith in the Holy One, blessed be He and stayed. The caravan members stopped arguing and continued on their way to Fustat, leaving the boy to spend Shabbat alone in the Great Desert.

Minutes before Shabbat would begin, Shelomo took a stick and drew a circle in the sand around himself. There he said his evening prayers and ate his Shabbat seudah (Sabbath Meal). He thought about his mother blessing his brothers and sisters in the glow of the Shabbat candles.

As he completed his seudah (meal), he saw a lion running toward him from a distance. He carefully watched the lion, but he was not afraid. He began his Grace after Meals, and as the lion approached the circle drawn around the boy, it simply stopped, crouched, and laid down. This lion did not come to eat the boy. The huge lion came to watch over him.

In the morning, Shelomo awoke, prayed the Shacharit prayers, ate his meal and sang Shabbat songs. The lion kept watch throughout the day. After Shabbat, the lion approached the boy and crouched down. Shelomo understood that the lion was hinting that he should sit on its back. He placed his bags on the lion’s back, mounted the lion, and the lion galloped off with the boy across the desert.

Soon Shelomo and his bags caught up with the caravan. The members of the caravan were shocked and frightened, and many ran and hid behind their camels. They were not only surprised to see that the boy Shelomo had survived the desert, but he was riding on a lion and was able to overtake them in their journey across the desert.

“Come join us as we continue on to Fustat and we will definitely stop on Shabbat,” the caravan leader told Shelomo. He soon came to Fustat and returned to his mother in Fez under the watchful eye of the lion.

The widow was overjoyed at the return of he son and with the fortune they provided for many needs of the poor of Fez. Everyone came to celebrate the bar mitzvah of Shelomo and his mother said – “my son is a man.”

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 Shabbos Blessings and Special Guest

Posted on Thursday, 9, August, 2018Friday, 13, October, 2023 by Rabbi

Once, there lived a young couple named Ora Chaya and Avigdor. Avigdor was a peddler. Six days a week he would travel on foot from town to town, selling his merchandise. Ora Chaya stayed home and looked after their little cottage. On market days, she would go into town and sell vegetables from their garden. But on Friday afternoon, no matter how far he had traveled, no matter how little he had sold, Avigdor always made his way home, so that he and Ora Chaya could be together to celebrate Shabbos – the holy Sabbath Day.

As the sun inched down, Ora Chaya would recite the blessing and kindle the Shabbos candles. Together, they would welcome the Shabbos Kallah (Sabbath Bride) into their humble home, singing:

In the glowing light, they would bless each other in the ancient words:

May the L-rd bless you and keep you;

May the L-rd make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you; and

May the L-rd turn his face toward you and give you peace. (Numbers 6:24)

Avigdor would then sing the ancient tribute to his wife:

Only then would Avigdor recite the Kiddush over the wine, recalling the Seventh Day, the Creation of the World and how G-d blessed it. Only then would they break open the warm challah that Ora Chaya had baked. They would join hands across the wooden table, smiling at each other, they knew that no matter how hard life might be, they would always have this holy day to share for all their years together.

Often on a Friday afternoon, Ora Chaya would see Avigdor walking down the road with a friend, or some poor stranger who had nowhere to go for Shabbos. “We may be poor,” they would say to each other, “but we always have enough to welcome travelers or people in need to our home. There is always enough flour for the challah. There are always enough coins to buy the wine and the candles. We always have enough to welcome the Shabbos Kallah to our home. “

One year, the winter was colder than usual. A heavy snow had fallen, and for weeks the roads were covered with high drifts. Then the snow melted, and the mud made the roads impassable. It was hard for Avigdor to go on his usual rounds. Ora Chaya too, could not make her way to the marketplace. Little by little, the money they had saved for hard times had to be spent, until one week, they had almost nothing left. Finally, the roads began to dry. A warm and gentle spring sunlight began to shine on the frozen hills and valleys, and one day, old Avigdor threw his sack on his shoulder and set off to earn what he could for the week.

Ora Chaya bent over their patch of land and began to weed and hoe for the spring planting. On Friday morning, she set off for town to buy what little she could with their last coin. On the way, she met the town melamed (schoolteacher). He stopped her and said, “Good morning, Froy Ora Chaya. Over the winter, many of our books were damaged by the cold and melting frost. Could you give something for their repair?” Without a moment’s hesitation, Ora Chaya dropped her last coin into the melamed’s outstretched hand — for what could be more important than the learning of children?

Then she turned and made her way home. Surely, she thought to herself, there will be enough at home for our Sabbath meal. Sadly, when Ora Chaya reached home, there was little to be found. She searched in every corner. High up in the cupboard, she found an old bottle of wine, and two white candles. But search though she might, she could not find a speck of flour anywhere in the house. Soon Avigdor would be coming home, and there would be no challah in the house for the Sabbath! Never before had such a thing happened to them. Ora Chaya thought of running to a neighbor, but it was too late. In all the time she had spent in her search, the sun had been setting. It was almost sunset and she saw Avigdor coming up the road and with him was a guest. He must have met some poor traveler on his way, and now, she had nothing to offer them. No food had been prepared, and there was no challah!

Quickly, Ora Chaya set the table for three. She set the candlesticks in the middle, along with the Kiddush cup and the bottle of wine. The challah plate sat on the table. Oh, how empty it looked! Ora Chaya said a quick prayer to herself. “Somehow,” she whispered, “Ribbono shel olam (Master of the Universe) will provide.” Right outside the doorway, she spied two round stones. In a flash, Ora Chaya picked them up and put them on the challah plate, covering them with the embroidered cloth they always used. At least when Avigdor and their guest entered, it would feel like Shabbos!

Avigdor opened the door. With him was an old woman, her head covered with a broad kerchief. “See Ora Chayaleh, this poor woman was lost on the road. I have brought her here to spend the Sabbath with us.” Ora Chaya could not speak. She could not bring herself to tell Avigdor the truth: that their one pride and joy, their lovely Sabbath ceremony, would be flawed and lacking. She closed her eyes and recited the blessing over the candles. They sang the ancient prayers to each other and welcomed in the Sabbath Queen. Avigdor recited the Kiddush. All the while, their guest, the old woman, sat with her head down, not speaking a word, only whispering “Amen” after each blessing.

Then Avigdor reached out his hand to uncover the challah loaves. Filled with shame, Ora Chaya put one hand over her mouth and reached out to stop him. “No Avigdor! They are only — ” when, quick as the wind, the old woman lifted off the cover herself. And there, on the plate, sat two golden, sweet-smelling loaves of challah, warm and shining on the table.

Ora Chaya stammered, “But, they were only stones, just a moment ago!”

The old woman let her kerchief fall. As she raised her eyes, she seemed to grow taller and younger. Avigdor and Ora Chaya stared at her in awe. Her hair shone brighter than the light from any candles, and a garland of flowers wreathed her head. It was the Shabbos Kallah, the Sabbath Queen herself, who had come to visit them!

She spoke to them, and her voice was sweet as a nightingale’s singing in the morning. “How often have you welcomed me into your house, with joy and gladness. Each Sabbath, you bless each other and the Creator of the World with love and peace in your hearts. How often have I longed to reward your faithfulness, and your kindness to others. Now I have a blessing for you:

Avigdor and Ora Chaya clasped their hands together. As they stood across from each other, gazing at one another in wonder, it seemed that the light of a thousand stars shone in each other’s eyes, and the peace of Shabbos surrounded 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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The Widow’s Apples

Posted on Thursday, 2, August, 2018Wednesday, 21, September, 2022 by Rabbi

“Rabbi, holy rabbi, have mercy on me! Please, give me some money so I can have something to eat for myself and my children on Shabbos!” With these words, the woman who had burst into the rabbi’s house broke out into tears. “I don’t have a penny to buy food for my orphan children!”

“Why didn’t you come yesterday,” said the holy rabbi, “when I was giving tzedakah (charity) to all the poor people for Shabbos? Today, I don’t have even a copper coin to give you!”

”I’ve never taken money from anybody,” the woman said, “but today I had to come to you. I have a stand in the marketplace, not far from here, where I sell apples. With the money I make, I’m barely able to support myself and my children. Yesterday morning, with the little money I had, I bought a basket of apples from a peasant. I was hoping to earn enough money to buy something to eat for Shabbos. But rabbi, no one bought my apples. They say they’re no good!”

“No good!” cried the rabbi.” Chas v’chalila (Heaven forbid) someone would say that Hashem’s apples are no good? What do they mean?”

“Rabbi,” she pleaded, “I call out: ‘Apples, apples, delicious apples that have a taste like the Garden of Eden.’ But they say the apples are bad!”

The rabbi asked the poor woman where her stand was in the marketplace and told her to go back there, promising her that she would have money for what she needed for Shabbos.

A few minutes later, the buyers in the market saw that the holy rabbi was at the widow’s apple stand calling out loudly, “kum’t arein geshmak sheynim epls far Shabbos koidesh! Epls far farkoyf! kumen aun koyfn!” (Come around Delicious, beautiful apples for the holy Shabbos! Apples for sale! Come and buy!)”

When people heard that the holy rabbi of the town was selling apples, a crowd quickly gathered at the widow’s stand. Everyone wanted to buy apples from the rabbi. In only a few minutes, all the apples were sold.

“Do you see?” said the rabbi to the woman, as he gave her the profits, “A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver.” (Proverbs 25:11) the rabbi continued, “May you be blessed with gold and silver from the apples you sell and may your children grow strong like apple trees and always act with kindness and sweetness.”

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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Kugel and Shabbos Lights

Posted on Tuesday, 25, February, 2014Friday, 2, February, 2024 by Rabbi

The times were hard, and food was scarce. Each day, a poor widow worked so hard in the hopes of buying food for her children. Each day, she would set aside a small portion of food to be used for Shabbos. One week, sadly, she was only able to save a few potatoes, some eggs, a piece or two of bread, an onion, and some oil.

The winter winds blew, and the snow fell, and sickness knocked at the door. The children of the widow became sick, and every day, their bodies weakened. Her oldest son got up from his sick bed and asked his mother, “Last week, you made such a wonderful kugel for Shabbos. Could you please make it again for this coming Shabbos?…. Please?”

What the child did not understand was that the ingredients for the kugel had been gathered together by his mother throughout the week. His mother would many times give up her daily portion of food to set aside a bit just to honor the Sabbath day. The widow questioned herself, could she make the sacrifice again? How could she not, when her efforts would bring such joy to her children as well as to the Shabbos Queen.

She carefully grated the potatoes and mixed them with breadcrumbs that she saved throughout the week. She added eggs, salt, pepper, and a small onion and was ready to pour the kugel into the pan to bake in the oven, and a thought entered her mind.

She had some oil saved, and that little bit of oil would greatly improve the quality and taste of the kugel. How delighted her six children would be! It would bring nourishment to their weakened bodies and delight to their hearts.

But how could she? She had been saving the precious oil to kindle the holy Shabbos lights. She knew the importance of Jewish law and tradition placed in the lighting of the Shabbos candles. She also knew that the moments after kindling the holy Sabbath lights were the most opportune for a mother to pray on behalf of her children. What better way to help her children than by praying for them as she kindled the Shabbos licht (lights)?

Inside her beat, the heart of a loving mother, and her instincts would not permit her to place the kugel in the oven without the oil. She was torn as to what to do. After some time, she had an idea.

The oil was added to the kugel…. As the sun began to set that Friday night, the widow stood before her Shabbos lights – fixed without oil. She closed her eyes, and gently welcomed the holy Shabbos (Sabbath Day) into her home:

That night the children ate their kugel, which tasted of paradise. They burst into song, saying it’s “Shabbos Kodesh (the Holy Sabbath),” and Shabbos Queen responded in kind, “let us sing a song to the love and sacrifice of the Jewish mother.”

A Gut’n Shabbos mit brochah und simcha (A Good Shabbos with Blessings and Happiness)

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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Delight, a Princely Feast and Shabbos – The Sabbath Day

Posted on Monday, 17, February, 2014Friday, 8, September, 2023 by Rabbi

Tam and Chacham were walking through a forest one Thursday and they came upon a clearing. They sat down beneath a tree to rest when they saw a young man come into the clearing from the opposite side and asked:

“May I sit with you?” asked the young man. “Come, sit and maybe share a word or two with us.” answered Chacham.

The young man sat on a nearby stump quietly for some time. He thought and then shared: “I used to learn and marvel in the Holy Writings, but have seen that it is an academic exercise. Since most do not practice what is written.”

Chacham looked at the young man with a serious look, and responded: “have you not learned or understood the laws and customs of the holy Shabbos (Sabbath Day)? It is very clear as it is written: ‘And G-d blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it’ (Genesis 2:3), and are we not further commanded to ‘remember the Sabbath Day, to keep it holy. Six days shall you labor, and do all your work, but the seventh day is the Sabbath of the L-rd your G-d, in it you shall not do any work, you, nor your son, nor your daughter, your manservant, nor your maidservant, nor your cattle, nor your stranger that is within your gates.’ “(Exodus 20: 8 – 10)

The young man looked, an uneasiness in his eyes, and asked: “Is there more than just laws and customs? It seems so dry and without feeling.”

Chacham’s face began to turn red with frustration, but Tam turned to the young man and began: “He who delights in the Sabbath Day is granted his heart’s desire, as it is written: ‘delight yourself also in the L-rd, and he shall give you the desires of your heart. This delight refers to the Sabbath Day, as it is said ‘and you shall call the Sabbath a delight.’ ” (Isaiah 58:13) (Shabbos 118 a-b)

Chacham shook his head in agreement and added: “that is why it is important to ‘devote part of the Sabbath Day to learning Torah (Scriptures) and part to feasting.’ ” (Y. Shabbos 15:3)

Tam looked at the young man kindly and shared: “I know it’s hard and sometimes very difficult to understand many of the teachings. So let me explain it a little differently:

“A prince was taken captive from a field of battle and was brought to a place far away from his home. The people in the place were ignorant and gave him no respect. He remembered his father and his home and sent a message to his father.”

“One day, the prince received a letter from his father. He was overjoyed and wanted desperately to express his feelings. He felt like jumping up and dancing, but how could he when everyone around him would laugh and think him crazy. Then, he had an idea. He would purchase some fine food and some good wine, and invite his neighbors to a feast. They ate their fill of food and became drunk on wine until they began to sing and dance. The prince, too, danced, but for different reasons, the neighbors danced out of the drunkenness, he danced because of the joy from the letter he had received.”

Chacham interjected: “the one who violates Shabbos was put in the same category as a person betrays his faith and his people.” (Eruvin 69 b).

Tam continued: “it is sad, even maybe a little sinful to say that too many think of the Sabbath day is very boring, tedious and dreary. They think only in terms of ‘what can be done’ and ‘what cannot be done’, a long list of restrictions.”

“People scrimp and save to take a vacation to get away from telephones, computers and other annoyances. They go for fancy food and relaxation.” Everything a person could want is in Shabbos, and it comes once a week. It is indeed a beautiful day to refresh, renew and recharge.”

The young man looked at Tam and Chacham and smiled. He took a deep cleansing breath and asked: “can you give me a blessing that I can understand the beauty of Shabbos?”

Chacham smiled and began:

“Heavenly Father, in Your great love help us to welcome the Holy Shabbos with tremendous joy, happiness, and understanding.

Watch over us and protect us so that on the Holy Shabbos, no sadness enters into our hearts.

May we know no sorrow or sighing or any worry at all.

Bless us and all we meet so that all can rejoice on the Sabbath Day, with all their heart and with all their soul with all of their might.”

Tam continued:

“let us all be happy throughout the Sabbath Day, from the time it arrives until it leaves.

Allow us to draw the joy of Shabbos into the other days of the week. So that happiness can be found during the week.

Help us to obtain the true calm and happiness of Shabbos.

May we all find rest filled with love, truth and faith, wholesomeness, peace and security. The complete rest, which we know You desire.”

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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Laughter and Love for Shabbos

Posted on Monday, 3, February, 2014Friday, 6, October, 2023 by Rabbi

If you refrain from violating the Sabbath, from pursuing your own interests on My holy day; if you call the Sabbath a delight and the holy day of the L-rd honorable, (Isaiah 58:13)

Once, the students of a holy rabbi decided to prepare him a special Shabbos meal. They worked for days to make sure that everything would be just as it should be, so that the spirit of the Shabbos would descend as it never had before.

The students and the rabbi came in from shul (synagogue) and began to sing Shalom Aleichem and an atmosphere of holiness surrounded the holy rabbi and his students. As they sang, the Holy rabbi began to laugh and laugh, as though he could not contain himself.

All was silent as the holy rabbi stood to make Kiddush, a student lifted the Kiddush cup and placed it in his holy teacher’s hand. Suddenly the holy rabbi began to laugh loudly, and all the students looked around to see what had made their teacher laugh — if there was something out of sorts — but everything was as it should be.

They began the Shabbos meal, hoping everything would meet their teacher’s approval. They served the holy rabbi the first bowl of the soup that they had worked so long over….He tasted it, and then he laughed so hard he almost spilled the soup.

The students were shocked. They rushed to taste the soup, but there was nothing in it that tasted…funny.

Still later, they were singing the Shabbos songs, listening to the holy rabbi’s lessons on the weekly Torah portion and stories. The holy rabbi smiled several times and was in a very joyful mood.

It was the custom of the students that as soon as the stars came out after the spirit of the Shabbos had departed, they would choose one question between them, and present it to the Holy rabbi. This Saturday night, there was no debate as to what question they would ask. “Holy master, why did you laugh three times during the Shabbos?”

In answer, the holy rabbi said, “Come with me,” and with that the students crowded into the holy rabbi’s carriage. Several hours later, the carriage stopped in a small village. The holy rabbi was greeted by the village leaders and he asked about Anschel the bookbinder.

Anschel the bookbinder lived on the edge of town, and several students went to bring him to the holy rabbi. When Anschel the bookbinder entered the old wooden village shul (Synagogue) and saw the holy rabbi he began to cry. “Oh, Holy Master, I know I have committed a great sin. Please tell me what I must do to be forgiven.”

“Anschel, tell us how you spent your Shabbos.”

“Do I have to? I’m so ashamed.”

“Yes, tell us everything and leave nothing out.”

“Rabbi, holy rabbi, I’ll never do it again. Please don’t make me confess my sins in public.”

The holy rabbi softly comforted: “Anschel, do not fear and have no shame, but please tell us how you spent your Shabbos.”

Fearfully, the Anschel glanced around the room and began his account: “I am an old bookbinder. In my youth, I could earn enough that my wife and I had what we needed during the week, and always had something special to greet the Shabbos. But as I have grown older, my hands can no longer work fast and we have suffered terribly.”

“Sadly, this Shabbos — for the first time — we had no Shabbos candles — and nothing for a Shabbos meal. So I went to shul and stayed late as there was nothing to go home to, but as I walked down the road I saw light shining from my house. I became very angry at my wife for taking charity, but for the sake of Shalom Bayis (peace in the home) I decided to hold my anger.”

“I entered the house and saw the table set with everything fine, there were golden challahs and wine. My wife was determined that we would observe the Shabbos as well as we were able. I could hold my anger no longer and asked my wife why she accepted charity. She answered me:

“Anschel, my beloved husband do you remember the black dress with the fancy buttons you bought me when we were first married?”

“Yes, but what does that have to do with now?”

“Well, I was cleaning for Shabbos and was very sad. I found that black dress and tried it on and my heart skipped a beat as I remembered you told me when I wore that dress I looked like the Shabbos Malka (Sabbath Queen) and that I’d always be your Shabbos Kallah (Sabbath Bride). Then I had an idea. I took the buttons off my dress and took them to the jeweler and he gave me 5 gold coins for them. So I bought all we needed for Shabbos.”

“As she finished telling me this, I saw a wonderful light. I sang Shalom Aleichem, and I understood for the first time that the light that I had thought came only from the candles was also coming from her. I grabbed my wife and we danced around the table and with tears in my eyes I knew I loved more today than any other time.”

“I got control of myself, and went back to observing the Shabbos with due respect.”

“I stood at the head of the table and raised the Kiddush cup to make the blessing, when my wife smiled at me and my heart melted. I felted twenty years younger and rushed through the blessing and then danced around the Shabbos table with my wife.

“We finally sat down to eat and my wife served me chicken soup. At that moment, I realized that the nourishment — which all these years I had thought came only from the soup — actually came also from her, from our being together through so many Shabboses. (Sabbaths)

“And before I realized what I was doing, I jumped up, pulled her to me and kissed her. We danced as though we were teenagers.”

“Shocked at my own behavior, I sat back down. I stayed in my seat properly until later, when we sang the Shabbos songs and shared stories. Throughout Shabbos I kept looking at my wife lovingly”

“Suddenly, I knew that, in spite of our great poverty, while I had her in my life, I lacked for nothing.

“Rabbi, holy rabbi, I know I have defiled the Shabbos. Please, tell me what I must do to be forgiven.”

“The Holy rabbi looked at his students. ”When Anschel and his wife spent their Shabbos in such deep and holy love, I was there with them, and I shared in their joy.”

“When he spoke his love for his wife, not only I but the angels in heaven heard — and they smiled. And when he got up and kissed his wife, acting on that deep love — the angels in heaven saw them, and they laughed.

“And when the two of them joined their hands and sang and danced their joy, the angels themselves began to sing and to dance. And the Eternal Heart itself heard them, and it was warmed.

“On a Shabbos of such perfect joy, who wouldn’t laugh?”

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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What Happened to Yossele L’Koved Shabbos

Posted on Saturday, 25, January, 2014Wednesday, 21, September, 2022 by Rabbi

The holy rabbi’s eyes filled with tears. He held Yossele his hand and looked him in the eye and gently said to him: “Yossele, I really, really envy you, to have such an exalted name – l’Koved Shabbos – and for such a holy reason. What an honor to meet such a Jewish person that lives what he believes. Please tell me a little about yourself.”

“Holy rabbi, the truth is, there is not much to tell. I never knew my parents, because they left this world when I was only five years old. I don’t have any other family, so I lived on the streets, making money for food anyway I could. Sometimes, late at night, I go to the old wooden shul, and some people out of kindness would teach me how to pray a little, and how to recite the Psalms. I never learned anything else. I’m big and I’m strong and so I make a living as a porter. I have a wife and children, and that’s all there is to say about me.”

The holy rabbi squeezed Yossele his hand again and said: “Yossele, sweet Yossele, there’s one more thing I want to know. This is very important to me. Why do you always sing? What are you thinking about when you carry all those heavy bundles and packages singing l’Koved Shabbos?”

Yossele looked at the holy rabbi is tears welled up in his eyes. He began to cry: “rabbi, holy rabbi, I know the beginning, but I don’t know how it will end. I know that in the beginning the Ribbono Shel Olam (the Master of the Universe) created the heavens and the earth. I learned about our fathers, Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, our four holy mothers, about the twelve tribes of Israel, I know the Master of the Universe took us out from the land of Egypt and brought us to a holy land where we built the Holy Temple, the place of G-d’s glory in Jerusalem.”

“I also know what happened next. We were driven out of our land, the Holy Temple was destroyed, and ever since, the Jewish people have been wandering around the world, in exile, without a home.”

“So you see, holy rabbi, I do know the beginning, and a little bit of the middle, but I don’t know the end. When will the bitter exile finally be over? When will the Holy One, blessed be He, take us back to the holy city, to Jerusalem? When will be able to gather again in the Holy Temple l’Koved Shabbos, in honor of the holy Shabbos?”

“So that’s why I sing, holy rabbi. My song is really my cry, my prayer to the Holy One, blessed be He. You ask, what am I thinking? Well I will tell you. I am thinking, Ribbono Shel Olam, l’Koved Shabbos, for the honor Shabbos, but the end of the long exile should come soon, l’Koved Shabbos, for the sake of the Holy Sabbath, the Holy Temple be rebuilt today, l’Koved Shabbos.”

The holy rabbi was silent for a moment and he could not hold back his tears. He began crying from the deepest parts of his soul, and he said: “Yossele you know the holiest secret of all, that everything we carry, everything we do, everything that happens to us in our lives, everything is all l’Koved Shabbos, for the sake of the Great Shabbos to come. If all of the Jewish people only knew this exalted truth, then the end of the terrible exile, the great day, the coming of the Messiah, would literally be so close, so near.”

That Shabbos Yossele was at every meal at the holy rabbi’s house. As the stars rose in the sky and the holy rabbi made Havdalah, Yossele looked into the flame and smiled. The next day Yossele disappeared. No one knew when he left or where he went.

The years went by and Yossele was forgotten. The young man continued his studies and became a teacher too many and became known as a holy rabbi. The holy rabbi was traveling through a distant village when he saw an old man sitting on a rocking chair in the marketplace. He heard a haunting melody, a song that was very close to his heart:

“L’K-o-oved Shabbos, oy, L’K-o-oved Shabbos, oy, L’K-o-oved Shabbos!”

It then became clear what had happened to Yossele. He left his home and went into the forest and there met the holiest of holy teachers who made him into lamed vov tzaddik. Yossele had become one of the 36 hidden holy people who keep the whole world going, l’Koved Shabbos, until the Messiah comes and everyone comes together l’Koved Shabbos, for the honor of Shabbos.

May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)

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The holy rabbi said, “Oy! What will I do now? How can I collect 500 rubles only minutes before Shabbos!”

I heard all this and said, “Please give her my 500 rubles. I am still young, I can save again.” The holy rabbi argued with me, but matter what he said I decided to give my money to the widow. She left full of joy.

Within a month, I became very wealthy. I really don’t know how it happened. I knew that the wealth I had was because of Shabbos and so every week I gave money to the holy rabbi to help others on Shabbos. There was one condition; no one was to know where the Shabbos gelt came from.

I bless you with the bliss of Shabbos.

How can we receive the bliss of Shabbos? How can we take all the anger and pain out of your heart, and really be able to taste Paradise? We have to first give Shabbos to someone who doesn’t have it.

Why do we have to invite guests for Shabbos? Because if I want to have the bliss of Shabbos, I have to first give Shabbos to someone who doesn’t have it.

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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She opens her mouth with wisdom, and the lesson of kindness is on her tongue. (Proverbs 31:26)

Sadly, few secrets remain hidden for long. Peeking through a crack in the wooden window slat, someone looked into their house. This wicked neighbor saw Michoel praying with his two sons and the two lit candles on the table. He immediately ran to notify the police.

“I have found secret Jews keeping their Saturday Sabbath,” he announced. The police rushed to the Francesco house and banged loudly at the door. “Open up,” a harsh voice commanded. “We know there are secret Jews hiding in this house. Open the door or we will break it down!”

Michoel was filled with fear, yet he had no choice but to let the police in. The captain came into their house followed by his troops. “Tie their hands and march these Jewish renegades to the church. The Inquisition will punish them!”

“No, no, no,” barked the captain to the troops. “We are mistaken! I know these people. They are not Jewish. The man was probably just talking with his sons. And those two candles on the table are probably lit to light up the house on this dark evening.”

“Soldiers, return to your homes,” said the captain. “Let us not disturb these people anymore!” Michoel was stunned and could not believe what he was hearing. The captain winked at Michoel as he and his troops left the house.

That night long ago reminded the Francesco family that “Whoever pursues righteousness and kindness will find life and honor.” (Proverbs 21:21)

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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An old woman lit her Shabbos candles and smiled as she drew in the holiness of Shabbos – the Holy Sabbath Day. Her three grand-daughters watch her carefully as they had so many times and wondered why she always smiled each week in front of the Shabbos candles .

The skies were leaden and the strong winds roared furiously. The trees were shedding their leaves at a rapid rate, so that streets newly swept had to be swept again. Leaves and bits of litter danced haphazardly on the wind’s back.

On this gray autumn day, a piece of exciting information was whispered in my ear.

“I’ve gotten hold of candles — Shabbos candles. Do you want to light them, Miriam?”

I stared at my friend. She smiled, saying, “Don’t you believe me? Shabbos candles! I found some wax in the department where I work. I melted it down in one of these boxes — and here they are. Shabbos candles!”

My heart soared. Shabbos lights, in the very midst of the darkness that pressed in on us from every side! In the center of the arctic menace, a tiny pinpoint of light and warmth — the Shabbos flames.

“Well?” my friend asked. “Do you want to light the candles?”

“Yes!”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Afraid — of what?”

“The whip, the gun, the gas chamber — “

I cut her off. “I’m afraid of the stick in the hand of my Father in Heaven. I intend to fulfill my obligations as a Jewish woman.”

I stepped up to the candles. “Just like my mother used to do,” I heard someone whisper behind me. I sensed rather than saw the way the others nodded their heads, their throats choked with tears.

I struck a match, and lit the candles.

I passed my hands over the candles and was about to bring my fingertips to my eyes when, suddenly, heavy footsteps sounded in the corridor. We recognized those footsteps. They belonged to our S.S. supervisor. Our hearts stopped.

The supervisor flung open the door. With a single glance she took in the entire scene. We all stood frozen in a silence that seemed shatterproof. As I continued praying with covered eyes, she stood silent, astounded.

When I removed my hands, I heard her issue a sharp order. “Go outside to the waiting truck!”

The other girls hurried to obey her command, with the S.S. woman following close behind. I was left alone in the room. I looked at the candles. “Will my lighting these candles lead to all my friends being carted away to who-knows-where?” I wondered, near despair.

The flames burned brightly as my lips moved in soundless prayer. I felt as though all of history’s good women were bearing my prayers directly to the Holy Throne. And then peace returned, and I knew with certainty: My friends would not be harmed because of these holy candles.

Slowly, I walked outside to join the others. A short distance away, I saw the parked truck. I tentatively made my way toward it. Just as I arrived, my friends appeared from behind the truck, bearing loaves of bread.

Their faces were serene as they explained, “She ordered us to take these loaves to the kitchen.”

I lifted my eyes heavenward. The sun had not yet sunk beneath the rim of the horizon. A last stripe of light lingered at the western edge of the sky, as though to proclaim the miracle. Then, its job finished, it disappeared — and the Shabbos Queen descended on the world.

Gut Shabbos meyn zissele kinderlach – Good Shabbos my sweet children

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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Every week the widow would gather her children around the table on erev Shabbat and they would welcome the Shabbat Malka. There was always special food and such a feeling of peace throughout Shabbat.

He ran to the market carrying the mysterious letter to give to his mother. She took it, opened it and read it as tears trickled down her cheeks. Shelomo got angry that someone in a far off place made his mother cry.

The widow sold some of her jewelry and wrapped up food for her son’s journey and gave him directions and much advice. She approached a caravan leader for a ride and was assured that the caravan would stop for Shabbat, so Shelomo joined the group.

​The sun was moving lower on the afternoon horizon. The caravan was still in the dry desert wilderness, yet Shelomo got down off of his camel, and announced that he would remain in the desert for the next day so that he would not be m’chalel Shabbat – in violation of the Sabbath Day.

Shelomo put his faith in the Holy One, blessed be He and stayed. The caravan members stopped arguing and continued on their way to Fustat, leaving the boy to spend Shabbat alone in the Great Desert.

Minutes before Shabbat would begin, Shelomo took a stick and drew a circle in the sand around himself. There he said his evening prayers and ate his Shabbat seudah (Sabbath Meal). He thought about his mother blessing his brothers and sisters in the glow of the Shabbat candles.

“Come join us as we continue on to Fustat and we will definitely stop on Shabbat,” the caravan leader told Shelomo. He soon came to Fustat and returned to his mother in Fez under the watchful eye of the lion.

The widow was overjoyed at the return of he son and with the fortune they provided for many needs of the poor of Fez. Everyone came to celebrate the bar mitzvah of Shelomo and his mother said – “my son is a man.”

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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As the sun inched down, Ora Chaya would recite the blessing and kindle the Shabbos candles. Together, they would welcome the Shabbos Kallah (Sabbath Bride) into their humble home, singing:

“Lecha dodi, likras kaloh penei shabbos nekabeloh… Boi vesholom ateres ba-alah, gam besimchoh uv’tzoholoh toch emunei am seguloh, boi kalah, boi, kalah; toch emunei am segulah, boi chalah, boi chalah.”

Come, my Beloved, to meet the Bride; let us welcome the Shabbos… Come in peace, O crown of her Husband, both with songs and gladness; among the faithful, the beloved people, come, O Bride, come, O Bride.

In the glowing light, they would bless each other in the ancient words:

May the L-rd bless you and keep you;

May the L-rd make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you; and

May the L-rd turn his face toward you and give you peace. (Numbers 6:24)

Avigdor would then sing the ancient tribute to his wife:

Eishes chayil mi yimtza ve-rachok mi-peninim michrah

Batach bah leiv ba’alah ve-shalal lo yech’sar…

Piha pas’echah ve-chachma ve-soras chesed al leshona.

Tzofiyah halichos beisa ve-lechem atzlus lo socheil.

Ora Chaya stammered, “But, they were only stones, just a moment ago!”

The sun was moving lower on the afternoon horizon. The caravan was still in the dry desert wilderness, yet Shelomo got down off of his camel, and announced that he would remain in the desert for the next day so that he would not be m’chalel Shabbat – in violation of the Sabbath Day.