Mind Your Own Business

One day, Rabbi Yisrael Baal Shem Tov summoned one of his Chasidim and asked him: "Do you want to learn how to be a pious man?" "Yes, Rebbe," said the Chasid.

"In the city of Odessa, in a narrow lane in the harbor district, there lives a certain longshoreman. Go stay with him -- from him you will learn the meaning of piety."

The Chasid traveled to Odessa and located the man the Baal Shem Tov had described. The man accepted the Chasid's offer of a modest sum in return for a few weeks' lodging, and the Chasid settled in to observe the conduct of his pious host.

But if the visitor expected long hours of prayer each morning, followed by study by candlelight through the night, he was disappointed. His host proved a simple, unlettered Jew, who arose early each morning, prayed simply and quickly, and went off to work at the docks. In the evening, he would return, recite the evening prayers, eat his simple meal, and go to sleep. Thus, the Chasid spent the better part of the week growing no wiser and considerably more bored with each passing day.

The dock worker's garret consisted of a single dim room, sparsely furnished, its only window, a small pane set high in the wall. One day, while his host was away at work, the restless and curious Chasid climbed up onto a table to look out the window. To his dismay, he found himself looking out into a backyard where all sorts of criminal activities seemed to be going on at all hours of the day and night.

When his host returned that evening, the Chasid asked him: "Tell me, how can a Jew live in proximity to such neighbors? Couldn't you find a place to live that is not back to back with such an establishment?"

Now it was the longshoreman's turn to be dismayed. "I've lived here for twenty years," he said, "and not once did it occur to me to look into strangers' yards to see what they were doing. You, on the other hand, are hardly here a few days, and you're already climbing on tables and spying on every sinner in the neighborhood."