The Prayer That Transformed A Heart

In the ancient city of Aleppo, Syria there lived a Jew named Shimshon. He was well-known as a bully and half-drunk most of the time.

In the marketplace he walked from stall to stall, placing groceries in his basket, and leaving without paying. If anyone dared ask for payment he glared at them or made menacing comments. If he really got angry, he would overturn the produce or grocery cart and even give the stall keeper a big wallop.

Word eventually got to the rabbi of the town, who called Shimshon in and severely rebuked him. Shimshon, feigning innocence, asked, "Did anyone complain to you about me?"

The rabbi had to admit that no specific complaint had yet been brought. But, of course, the people were too frightened to accuse him and start up with Shimshon.

One day an older woman brought beautiful fruits and vegetables to the market. Shimshon came up to her stall, choose several items and walked away.

"Stop, come back. You haven't paid me," yelled the woman.

Shimshon turned around, looked at her threateningly and shouted, "You'll keep quiet if you know what's good for you." Then he continued on his way.

The stall keepers nearby encouraged her to go to the rabbi, who was relieved that there was finally a charge against Shimshon. The rabbi immediately sent for the culprit.

"Did you take produce from this woman without paying?" the rabbi asked Shimshon.

"Who says I'm not going to pay her?" was Shimshon's insolent reply.

"Pay her immediately or return her goods," was the rabbi's stern response. "If this ever happens again you will also have to pay a heavy fine," the rabbi added.

Shimshon took out his money and silently paid the woman. But as he was leaving, the rabbi's attendant, Levi, overheard him muttering, "I'll get even with the rabbi!"

A few days later the rabbi was invited to a circumcision in a nearby village. Along the way, Levi kept a sharp look out. When he noticed a man hiding behind some shrubs in the distance he was certain it was Shimshon. He now told the rabbi of Shimshon's threat and urged him to turn back.

Instead, the rabbi noted the time and told Levi to stop the carriage so they could say the afternoon prayers. He prayed intensely and longer than usual, then climbed back into the carriage and told Levi to drive full speed ahead.

In a matter of moments, Shimshon appeared in the middle of the road and stopped the carriage. Rushing over to the rabbi, Shimshon grabbed his hands, and with tears in his eyes begged forgiveness. The rabbi forgave him on the condition that he change his ways. Shimshon promised he would and they parted like best of friends.

Levi was amazed and puzzled. The rabbi explained what had just happened with a commentary from the Torah. "When Esau threatened Jacob's life, Rivka, their mother, instructed Jacob, "When your heart is free from any anger that you harbor against your brother for the trouble he has caused you, then you will be sure that his anger has turned away from you."

"You see," the rabbi concluded, "I was very angry with Shimshon, but I prayed to G-d to help me free my heart from any anger against him, and to help him free his heart from anger and evil. When I felt I no longer had ill feelings toward him, but rather compassion and a strong desire to help him mend his ways, I was certain that his heart, too, was pure. That is what actually happened. Thus, our sages teach us: As water reflects a face, so does one heart respond to another!

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The Dumb Robber

Once, in a small Russian village, there lived a poor melamed (teacher). The parents of the children were as poor as he, and so, more often than not he wasn't paid the small salary due at the end of the week. The melamed and his family just managed to keep bread on the table, and so, it wasn't surprising that when it came time to marry off the eldest daughter, there was no money for a dowry or the many expenses needed to make a wedding.

The melamed had no choice but to take to the road and go from village to village collecting charity. The mitzva of "dowering the bride" has always been popular amongst Jews, and he found the townspeople very willing to help. After several weeks the melamed felt that he had collected a sufficient amount of money, and he decided to return home with his heavy, little pouch of money.

One day, as the melamed made his way down the dusty road, a highwayman suddenly jumped out at him. Brandishing a pistol, the man snarled, "Give me all your money, or I'll shoot!"

The terrified melamed was rooted to the spot in shock. "Sir, take pity on me! I have only a little money that I have collected in order to marry off my daughter. Without this money, my poor child will never be able to make a match! Please, sir, leave me in peace!"

"Be quiet, Jew! I'm not interested in your pathetic stories. Just give over your money, and be quick about it!"

The melamed took out his purse and handed it over. But then, the robber raised his gun again, and took aim, pointing it straight at the melamed's heart. "Now, I'm going to kill you," he said, grimly.

"But, why? I gave you all my money. Now, let me go to my family. Please, I am the father of a large family, and my small children will be left orphans - paupers, without me!"

But the robber was relentless. "No, if I let you go, you will just run to the police and then they will capture me. You will testify against me, and I will be hanged! No, I cannot allow you to go, or I will be the one killed!"

The melamed begged and pleaded for his freedom, swearing that he would never breath a word of the robbery to any soul in the whole world. But, all his pitiful words fell on deaf ears. The robber just became more hardened in his resolve. The melamed saw no hope, and he asked the robber for a few moments to prepare himself to face his Maker. To this request, the robber acquiesced, and the melamed said his last prayers.

When he had finished, the melamed had a new look in his eyes. Our tradition teaches us never to despair, for even when the sword rests upon one's neck, G-d can still bring about salvation. During his moment of prayer, the melamed was given the glimmer of an idea.

"Sir," the melamed began, "I can tell that you are not an ordinary, wicked man, for if so, you would never have allowed me to pray. I see than you have more than a spark of goodness in you, and you are not the type who would want to murder an innocent man in cold blood. I want to do you a favor and I thought of a plan by which you could kill me in self-defense. I will pretend to attack you and then you will have a good reason to shoot. You will be able to honestly say it was self-defense."

The robber looked at him as if he couldn't believe his ears. "What crazy things are you saying? You're going to do me a favor? That's a good one! If you imagine that I'll give up my gun, you really are nuts!"

"Of course, I would never imagine such a thing," the melamed countered. Nothing like that. Why, you just sit on this tree stump and hold your gun. I will take my walking stick and wave it in the air like this. Then I will run towards you and gently tap you on the head. But, you will pretend to believe that I'm attacking you, and you shoot me. Isn't that simple?"

The robber thought about it for a minute or two as the melamed prayed from the depths of his heart for salvation. "Well, I guess it'll be all right," he replied. "Just be sure that your tap is real gentle," he chuckled.

"Don't give it a thought," the melamed assured him. Then, backing up a few paces, the melamed grabbed his stick firmly in his right hand, and praying fervently, he sprinted toward the robber who was sitting calmly with a smirk on his face. It was over in a flash. The melamed brought his heavy walking stick down on the robber's head with all his strength (plus the extra strength he gathered by way of his prayers). The man toppled over, his glassy eyes registering the shock of this unexpected turn of events.

When the melamed realized that he had succeeded in saving his life, he grabbed his money purse and ran down the road, as fast as his feet could carry him, never even glancing back at the felled murderer.

Soon the family celebrated the joyous wedding of their daughter, but the melamed never forgot how he managed to save the dowry and his life at the same time.

Nothing Is Free

A man once came to the Baal Shem Tov and poured out his heart: "Rebbe!" he cried, "I don't understand what is happening to me. A while ago, I decided to dedicate myself to the service of the Almighty, and I immediately found myself invigorated with spiritual life: when I prayed, my soul soared in ecstasy; when I studied Torah, the gates of wisdom opened before me; when I did a mitzva, I was suffused with a wonderful joy. But soon after, I lost it all. My prayers are dry. When I try to study, I stare for hours at the page without comprehending a word. My deeds have become mechanical and devoid of meaning. Rebbe, what happened?"

"Let me tell you a story," said the Baal Shem Tov. "A man once entered a shop in which all types of delicacies were displayed. He noticed that people were partaking of the food free of charge, with the consent and encouragement of the shopkeeper. So, he decided that he, too, should take advantage of the shopkeeper's generosity. After sampling each dish on the counter, he served himself a generous helping of a particularly appealing food.

"'Wait a minute, my friend,' objected the shopkeeper. 'That'll be 50 kopecks.'

"'But I don't understand,' said the surprised customer. 'Why are you suddenly demanding payment? Up until now, you allowed me to eat for free!"

"'Only because it is in my interest that people sample my wares," replied the shopkeeper, "so that they may learn how desirable they are. But after you have already tasted them and have appreciated their worth, it's time to start paying for your pleasure."'

"Nothing worthwhile in life is free of charge," concluded the Baal Shem Tov, "particularly in matters of the spirit. The sublime pleasures of divine service can be acquired only with the currency of perseverance and toil. Nevertheless, the Almighty offers a free 'taste' of His intimacy to all who seek Him with a true heart. But once one has sampled these heavenly wares, it's time to get to work."

Reprinted from The Week in Review, published by V.H.H.

The Power of Tehilim

The power of prayer is not completely understood by us, but in the words of one of the Rebbes of Lubavitch, "If you knew how the words of Psalms ascend to the highest Heavens you would never stop reciting them."

Through his holy vision, the Baal Shem Tov saw that a decree was made Above against a certain Jewish settlement. Summoning two of his companions, Reb Mordechai and Reb Kehos, the Besht set about to annul this terrible catastrophe.

Ascending to the upper realms, the Besht learned that this decree was firm and could not be rescinded. As his soul descended to earth, he passed by the "palaces" of many saintly individuals. These palaces represented the accumulated good deeds which awaited their soul when their earthly lives had ended. One palace in particular attracted his attention, for it sparkled so brilliantly. He approached it to see to whom it belonged, and discovered that it was the palace of a certain simple villager.

What, he wondered, had this man done to merit such a reward in the next world? It was the custom of this uneducated, but pious Jew to recite the entire book of Psalms five times every day as he went about his work.

When the Besht returned to earth, he traveled to the village of that man and asked, "If you knew that your reward in the World to Come could save an entire community of Jews, would you be willing to give it up?"

The unassuming fellow replied, "If I have a portion in the next world, I would certainly give it away to save my fellow Jews."

With that utterance, the decree was abolished, and for his total self- sacrifice, the simple villager won the admiration of all the Heavenly host.

A child's call of "Father, Father"

From the diary of Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok, the Previous Lubavitcher Rebbe

It is an hour since I returned from visiting the abandoned old park and its ancient trees. The walks between the rows of trees are overgrown with thorns and nettles, and wherever you turn in the park and square -- desolation and ruin.

Little wonder that the hamlet of Serebrinka, and its park in particular, are extremely precious to me, for many are the pleasant memories from the summer of 5660 when we lived in Serebrinka, as recounted in my journals of that year. How pleasant it is to stroll along the walks and trails which we then walked, to sit on the benches on which we then sat, for only they can evoke many details of the talks that I heard at the time from father--the nuances of the heart cannot be captured in writing.

So, immediately upon our arrival here today at six-thirty in the evening, I yearned to visit the park.

For an hour and a half I luxuriated in strolling through the park, sitting on its benches, gazing at the sky, and drowning in memories--until I heard the voice of my three-year-old daughter Chana, may she live, calling to me: "Father, Father, where are you...? Father, Father, answer me...," repeating her call twice and three times.

Her call interjected most aptly into my thoughts: At that very moment I had been thinking about my father's discourse of the past Sabbath, entitled "G-d Descended Upon Mt. Sinai." In it, Father [Rabbi Shalom Dov Ber, fifth Rebbe of Chabad] cites a metaphor to explain the difference between the Divine flow which comes in response to one's Torah study and observance of mitzvot, and G-d's response to one's 'service of the heart,' one's prayer.

The service of Torah and mitzvot draws a Divine response comparable to a father's pleasure in a son who toils in his father's business to increase his father's wealth. But the response evoked by prayer is like a father's response to his small child who yearns for him and cries: "Father, Father, answer me..."

Hearing my own daughter's cries, I sensed in myself how a child's call of "Father, Father" awakens an inner delight that is incomparably greater than the pleasure accorded by the older son's most impressive accomplishments.

The calling continued: "Father, Father, where are you? Father, Father answer me, hug me." I followed her voice and she hugged me and told me that grandfather, grandmother and mother were all waiting for me for the evening meal. She, too, will eat with us, she said with pride, but her younger sister, Chaya Mushka, (may she live) is already asleep -- in fact, she slept through the entire trip from Lubavitch and doesn't even know that we have arrived in the country! --and she laughed in delight.

Reprinted with permission from Once Upon A Chasid, by Yanki Tauber

Reb Levi Yitzchak of Berdichev Greeting The Traveling Worshipper

Reb Levi Yitzchak of Berdichev walked over to one of the congregants and extended his hand. The man had just concluded the Amida prayer, and Reb Levi Yitzchak greeted him with a hearty "Sholom Aleichem."

"Rebbe," the man questioned, "Why are you greeting me as if I returned from a journey? I live here in Berdichev and we see each other often. I haven't travelled outside the city for quite some time."

"I watched you while you were planing your next trip to the commercial fair in Leipzig. You visualized your transactions so powerfully that you felt as if you had traveled to and from the fair already. After such a journey, I felt it only proper that I should greet you cordially."