A Lesson From A Mountain

The son of the Maggid of Mezritch, Reb Avraham, was called the Malach, "the Angel." It was related by his grandson, Reb David Moshe of Chortkov, that once his grandfather visited a certain scholar named Rabbi Feivish of Kremenets. Although the entire town turned out to greet the great tzadik, he stood with his face averted from them. He stood gazing out a window at a high mountain in the distance.
Although the townsfolk longed to hear some holy words of Torah from him, he remained rooted to the spot deep in meditation. One of those gathered there was a scholarly young man from a renowned family. Unfortunately, his self-esteem outstripped even those two qualities.
A fervent opponent to Chasidut, he assumed that this rabbi, whom the Chasidim esteemed so highly, was simply and purposely ignoring and slighting the scholars who had assembled to honor him. This, the young man could not abide.
Clearing his throat, the young scholar spoke. "Honored Sir, would you so kindly explain to us why you are staring so intently at that mountain, which is, after all, you must admit, no more than a pile of dust?"
The Malach didn't lose a beat in relying to the young man. "That is exactly what is so amazing to me. How is it that a mere pile of dust can inflate itself so tremendously that it can assume the shape of a proud mountain?"
With that comment, he effectively silenced the young man, and taught him a valuable lesson at the same time.