No Price Too High For A Fellow Jew

Many years ago in Poland there lived a wealthy Jewish merchant who bought flax from the nobility and then resold it abroad. At the same time, he pursued the holy mitzva of "pidyun shevuim," ransoming prisoners. (In those days it was not unusual for Jews to languish in debtors' prisons when they failed to pay on time for leasing inns or other properties.)

One day the merchant was on his way to the estate of one of the Polish landowners, when he fell asleep at the reins of his carriage. As he dozed, the horses wandered off the path. When the merchant awakened he found himself on an unknown road . In front of him was a carriage driver fixing a broken wheel. Inside the carriage, a Polish gentleman sat looking angry and impatient. The merchant asked the nobleman if he could be of any assistance.

"Yes, you certainly can," he replied. "I would be most grateful if you would drive me to the inn just fifteen minutes ride from here. I could use a bit of whiskey, and I will be happy to treat you to some also in return for the favor."

"I will be happy to take you to the inn," the merchant replied. On the way they spoke amiably, and the nobleman discovered that the merchant dealt in flax, which was one of his primary crops. "What a happy coincidence," he thought, and they a greed to meet again to conduct some business.

When they arrived at the inn the Jewish innkeeper rushed to offer the Pole, who was his landlord, hospitality. The merchant went into the other room to say his afternoon prayers. He couldn't help but overhear snippets of conversation. "Moshke, you had better pay up the rent, now!" the landlord barked. The Jew responded meekly about the terrible snows which had kept customers away.

The merchant finished praying, and was about to leave, but the innkeeper begged him to partake of some refreshments. "No, I'd better be on my way," the merchant replied. "But tell me, are you having problems with the landlord?"

"He's drunk now. I hope when he sobers up he'll extend me credit a bit longer." The two Jews bade each other farewell, and the merchant departed.

When the flax harvest arrived, the Jewish merchant remembered the Polish landlord. He went to the estate, and the Pole was glad to make a deal with him. They settled on a price and drew up a contract. The conversation was friendly, and the merchant mentioned Moshke. "How is our friend, the innkeeper?"

"Oh, I had to put him in prison. Imagine, after all the chances I gave him, he still didn't pay me! Now, it's his wife's problem to come up with the money!"

"What! I can't believe you actually imprisoned the poor fellow! How much does he owe you?" asked the merchant.

The landlord mentioned a figure, exactly the sum agreed upon for the deposit. The merchant placed the money in the Pole's hand, and said, "There is the money he owes you. Now, set him free!"

"Fine. Now give me the money for the deposit and we'll conclude our deal."

"I'm sorry, Sir. I have no more money with me."

"I don't believe it!" exclaimed the Pole. "I have never seen such a thing. You have just given all your money to an utter stranger, and in the bargain, you have lost out on a wonderful deal which could have made you a tidy profit!"

What you say is true, Sir, except for one thing-that Jew is not a stranger to me, he is my brother, and it is my duty to redeem him."

The Pole was stunned. "You are a fine fellow. I will sign the contract without a deposit. I will also write a letter of recommendation to my brother-in-law, who is also a flax merchant. He will be anxious to do business with you."

The Jewish innkeeper was returned to his joyful family, and the gratitude they felt toward the merchant was inexpressible. But how on earth would they ever be able to repay him for his kindness? "I wouldn't sell my mitzva for any amount of money!" the merchant declared, and they parted in happiness and with a deep feeling of brotherhood.

The merchant proceeded to the other landlord with the letter of recommendation. Just as the first Pole promised, his relative was happy to sell his flax to the Jew. They were about to conclude the deal when the merchant heard a child crying i n Yiddish, "Daddy, Mommy, I want to go home!"

"Why is a Jewish child here, away from his parents?"

"I had to take him so his parents would pay what they owe me!"

The merchant suddenly rose from his seat. "I can't do business with a man who would take a child as hostage!"

The Pole was anxious not to lose the sale. "Fine. I'll have the child returned, just let's finish our business." Just as his brother-in-law had done, this man also concluded the deal without a deposit, and the merchant made a very nice profit on the sale of the flax. In addition, he accrued yet another precious mitzva to his account when the child was returned to his grieving parents.

The Jewish merchant was rewarded in this world as well as the next.

But he was blessed with yet another great reward, the birth of two sons who lit up the world with their holiness, the illustrious tzadikim, Reb Elimelech of Lizhensk and Reb Zusia of Anipoli.