The Son of An Etrog

Every year, immediately after Rosh Hashana, Rabbi Chaim Meir Yechiel Shapira of Mogelnitz sought a trusty messenger for a special mission. He would give him a large sum of money, send him out to purchase an etrog for the entire community and instruct him not to spare any effort to acquire the best one available. (An etrog is a citron fruit, one of the "Four Species" upon which a blessing is recited during the Sukkot holiday. The Torah describes the etrog as "the fruit of a beautiful tree" and it has long been customary to seek out a beautiful, unblemished etrog with which to enhance the mitzva.)

In those days in Europe, good-quality etrogim were very difficult to come by. In many towns and villages, as in Mogelnitz, there would be just one etrog for the entire Jewish populace.

One year it was extremely difficult to find a beautiful etrog; they were all blemished. The agent went from place to place, but was unable to find anything remotely suitable. He recognized right away that none satisfied the rabbi's requirements.

As the Sukkot festival approached, he became increasingly anxious. He realized that he would have to turn back towards home if he were to arrive on time for Sukkot. He would have to buy the first etrog he came across, even if it was plain.

Late in the day he arrived at a certain village and went into a small shul to pray mincha, the afternoon service. He overheard two men talking. "Did you hear about Mr. Almoni? This year he managed to buy the most beautiful etrog imaginable."

The agent inquired as to Mr. Almoni's address and hurried there. Mouthing a silent prayer, he reached up to knock on the door of the magnificent house. A servant admitted him, and showed him into the rich man's study.

The agent hesitated. How could he convince this stranger to part with the etrog? Certainly a man like that wasn't going to be interested in money! All he could do was express his feelings. He explained about Rabbi Chaim Meir Yechiel Shapira, that he was a great tzadik, an exalted person for whom performing every mitzva in an enhanced manner was an integral, indispensable aspect of life. "Please," he cried, "have mercy on this holy Jew and you will have a share in his great merit."

Mr. Almoni turned him down but the agent continued to plead. Suddenly, the wealthy householder's face softened slightly. He sat silently for a few minutes, thinking deeply. Then he spoke.

"You say your rabbi is a big tzadik?"

A ray of hope sparked in the agent's heart. "Yes! Yes," he exclaimed. "It's true."

"If so, perhaps we can do business," said the rich man. "Money is not the issue here. I paid a handsome sum for this glorious etrog. Thank G-d, I can afford it. But there is one thing I cannot buy. All these years, my wife and I have no children.

"I am prepared," he continued, "to 'sell' you my incomparable etrog. My non-negotiable price is that your holy rabbi should bless us to have a child, and that his blessing should come true within a reasonable period of time. If it comes to be, then the etrog is my gift to him. But if not, then retroactively your great rabbi and your entire community will not have fulfilled the mitzva (as one only fulfill this mitzva on an etrog that belongs to him)."

The rich man looked the rebbe's representative in the eye. "Do we have a deal?"

Silence permeated the room as the stunned agent considered how to respond. Finally he decided that he had no choice and accepted the proposal after which the agent set off straight for home.

Rabbi Chaim Meir Yechiel opened the box. Before him was one of the most splendid, perfect etrogim he had ever beheld. His joy knew no bounds, until the agent told him the conditions of the "transaction." He slowly re-wrapped the etrog.

For a long time Rabbi Chaim Meir Yechiel sat still, engulfed in his lofty thoughts. When at last he stood up from his chair, his face was pale, but a twinkle could be detected in his eyes.

"All right," he stated softly but firmly. "I accept upon myself this difficult condition. I will do that which I am able and bless Mr. Almoni that he and his wife should have a child. Now it is up to the Al-mighty to do His part."

A year later, on the eve of Rosh Hashana, a small package arrived for Rabbi Chaim Meir Yechiel. Inside was an etrog of superior quality, along with a note from Mr. Almoni announcing that a son had been born to him and his wife a few weeks before, and thanking the Rabbi for his blessing that had come to fruition.

Rabbi Chaim Meir Yechiel was overjoyed at the news. For him it was a two-fold celebration. Not only had the long-suffering couple been blessed with a child, finally he could fully rejoice over his mitzva of the Four Species of the previous Sukkot, which now no longer had a shadow of doubt cast over it.

Every year, the rabbi would receive a beautiful etrog from the grateful Almonis. One year, the messenger who delivered the etrog was a young yeshiva student.

"I have the etrog which my father requested that I deliver to the honorable Rabbi," said the young fellow, bashfully.

Rabbi Chaim Meir Yechiel stared at the youth. Tears welled up in his eyes. He extended one hand to receive the etrog and placed the other on the boy's head. "Not only are you the bearer of an etrog," he said, "you are the son of an etrog!"

Translated-adapted by Yrachmiel Tilles for the Ascent Weekly, www.ascent.org.il