Reb Mordechai Dov of Hornsteipl Melts A Frozen Jewish Heart

The Jews of the tiny village near the town of Ushamir suffered terribly under the heavy hands of the dictatorial manager of the lands they leased. He worked them to the bone, though nothing they did ever pleased him. Things were bad enough in normal times, but when he decided to vent his rage, life became completely unlivable, for the manager would cut their salaries without a second thought. This manager was, sad to say, actually a Jew.

No one knew where he had come from or what his past was, but as far as the present was concerned, it was a known fact that his tie to Jewishness was in his origin only, and even that was a burden to him.

It was the week before Rosh Hashana and the tzadik (righteous person), Rabbi Mordechai Dov of Hornistopol arrived in the town of Ushamir for Shabbat. It was his custom during the month of Elul to travel through all the nearby towns and villages to arouse the hearts of the people to the worship of the Creator and urge them to return to Him in full repentance.

Hundreds of Jews from all the neighboring settlements streamed to Ushamir to spend Shabbat together with the rebbe. Among those who came were many Jews from the nearby village. After Shabbat, the people were given an opportunity to speak to the tzadik to receive his blessings.

The residents of the next village decided amongst themselves that this would be a chance to tell Reb Mordechai Dov about the manager. With great sorrow the rebbe listened to their heartbreaking story. He was particularly distressed when he heard that the man was a Jew. "Wait till tomorrow, and we'll see what is possible to do," the rebbe told them.

The next day, right after the morning service, Reb Mordechai Dov asked his attendant to get the carriage ready. He then told the carriage driver to travel to the neighboring village. The inhabitants of the village who were at that very time preparing to return home, were very surprised.

In great haste, they, too, jumped into their wagons and followed the tzadik. A veritable caravan of wagons set out, the carriage of Reb Mordechai Dov leading the way. When the caravan reached the shtetl the tzadik inquired where the manager lived, and instructed his driver to proceed there.

When the villagers saw the caravan with the tzadik in the lead, they emerged from their homes and stood outside in anticipation. All the while, the tzadik was very withdrawn, saying nothing. When they saw from afar the large and beautiful mansion which was the residence of the land manager, all the people drew to a halt. "What is the tzadik going to do?" they wondered. "What will he say to that wicked one?" they asked one another. "Perhaps with the gaze of his holy eyes, he will turn the manager into a pile of bones," they thought, hopefully.

Standing on the porch, watching the scene, in all his glory, pipe in mouth, stood the land manager, his entire appearance reeking of arrogance. Yet, as the caravan approached his house, one could see the questioning look of wonder cross his face: What was the meaning of this procession?

Reb Mordechai Dov asked that his carriage halt just in front of the house. Behind him stretched a long line of wagons as far as the eye could see. The tzadik lifted his eyes and beheld the beautiful mansion. He noticed that the manager was studying him intently. The tzadik looked in his direction with a steady and unwavering glare. Reb Mordechai Dov got down from the carriage and walked toward the mansion. The others, eyes focused on the tzadik, didn't budge. Reb Mordechai Dov reached the door and after a few seconds, the door opened up from inside.

The tzadik and his attendant entered the house. Only a few minutes passed and the tzadik and his attendant left the house, climbed up on the wagon and departed. What happened inside, the people heard later from the attendant who reported that from the moment the manager had opened the door and until they departed, not one single word was spoken!

With a small nod of his head the manager motioned for them to enter and pointed to a chair for the tzadik to sit on. He, then sat opposite them. The tzadik put both hands on the table, straightened his back and lifted his pure eyes, to look directly into eyes of the evil dictator.

At first, the manager returned his gaze with a hard, defiant look. But gradually as the seconds turned into minutes, his glance began to soften. The gaze of the tzadik, however, which had started off soft and merciful, gradually became deeper and harsher.

Then, the eyes of the manager grew moist; a large tear rolled down his cheek. At that moment the tzadik rose from his seat, and without a word walked to the door. The manager remained motionless in his seat, as if nailed to his place, unable to even accompany his guest to the door.

That day the tzadik remained in the village. Everyone who had not been in Ushamir that Shabbat now was able to receive the tzadik's blessing. Towards evening, when the house in which the tzadik was staying had emptied of all the people, a bowed figure was seen approaching the house. It was the manager. He entered the house in an agitated state, as if pursued by demons. For the next two hours he was closeted with the tzadik.

That Rosh Hashana a new and unexpected worshipper appeared in shul. It was of course, the manager. For the holiday, he stood practically motionless, wrapped in talit and praying, and weeping copious tears.

From that day on, the estranged and despotic manager changed into a true repentant and a friend of his fellow Jews.

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R' David Of Tolna's Chanukah Riddles

In the household of Reb David of Tolna, the lighting of the Chanuka menora was a major event. The menora itself was of gold, and altogether an intricate piece of artistic craftsmanship. His Chasidim would assemble in his house and the air was soon filled with beautiful melodies.
On the first night of Chanuka one year, when Reb David was ready to kindle the menora, he turned to one of his Chasidim and said, "You wife is short, isn't she? When you want to speak to her, what do you do? Do you bend over towards her, or does she raise herself up to your height?"
Without waiting for an answer, Reb David recited the blessings and kindled the menora. The Chasid was as baffled as everyone else present.
At the time, Reb David's great-nephew, Reb Mordechai Dov of Hornisteipl, was staying with Reb David. When he saw how puzzled the Chasidim were, he said: "I will explain to you what my saintly great-uncle said.
"As you know, the Talmud states, 'The Divine Presence has never descended lower than ten handbreadths (tefachim) from the ground.' An exception to this rule is the menora on Chanuka, whose place is ideally required to be less than ten handbreadths from the ground. The Divine Presence on this occasion does descend lower than ten. And in Kabalistic writings it is written that this is the mystical concept that lies at the root of the Talmudic dictum: 'If your wife is short, bend over and whisper to her.' This was what my uncle wanted to make mention of."
The next evening at the time of lighting the Chanuka menora, Reb David again made some puzzling comment to one of his Chasidim. Immediately afterward, though he had not been told of the previous night's explanation by his nephew, he turned to his nephew and said; "This time you will not perceive as you did yesterday!"