Rebbe Mordechai of Chernobyl Gives Chanukah Gelt To The Miser

The good news spread throughout town. Rebbe Mordechai of Chernobyl would be visiting soon to celebrate the first days of Chanuka! In addition to the usual excitement that a Chasid feels when he has the chance to see his Rebbe, there were others things to be excited about, as well.

The Rebbe would honor one of his Chasidim with hosting him for the evening tea. At this "tea party," which all of the chasidim would attend, the Rebbe would speak words of Torah that would delight the souls of his Chasidim.

For another, the Rebbe would bless the host at the end of the evening with material and spiritual bounty. Lastly, everyone knew that the 18 gold rubles that the Rebbe "charged" for the honor of hosting him would be distributed to charity. Thus, the host would give charity through the Rebbe's own holy hand.

Itche the Miser went with all of the other Chasidim to greet the Rebbe when he arrived in town. Itche's father had been a prominent businessman. Like his father, Itche was also a Chasid. Unlike his father, Itche's main focus in life was his business, his luxurious home and all of its exquisite furnishings. Also unlike his father, Itche found it hard to part with even a copper for a charitable cause.

So, one can only imagine how Itche felt when the Rebbe arrived, looked straight at him, and suggested, "Itche, would you like to host me for tea?"

Of course, Itche said, "It would be my honor Rebbe." Inwardly, though, Itche panicked. Tea with the Rebbe and all of his Chasidim! Why, they would destroy his home! Then an idea came to him; he would stand at his front door and allow only the Rebbe in. A marvelous plan! Itche was relieved. It would cost him 18 gold rubles but at least his expensive carpets and antiques would remain intact.

Itche was sure his idea would work until the Rebbe said, "Itche, could you please personally transport me from my lodgings to your home?"

Now Itche's mind worked feverishly. If he picked up the Rebbe in his carriage and they drove quickly to Itche's home, they would arrive long before the Chasidim who were traveling on foot and he would still have time to bolt the front door so that no one else could enter. Ahhh, Itche sighed in relief once more.

Finally it was the first night of Chanuka. Itche lit the Chanuka menora with his family. He sat by the Chanuka lights for a little while. He took one last look at his beautiful home and then went to pick up the Rebbe. When Itche arrived, the Rebbe lit the Menora and recited the blessings after which the Chasidim all answered "Amen." Then they began to sing niggunim, wordless soul melodies, as the Rebbe meditated on the light of the small flame. An air of tranquility permeated the room, except in Itche's corner.

Finally, the Rebbe motioned to Itche that they would go now. Itche pressed his coachman to drive as quickly as possible, certain that with G-d's help he could put a fair distance between his carriage and the Chasidim.

But, halfway through the journey, the Rebbe ordered the carriage to stop. He turned to Itche and said, "I didn't realize your house was so far. Such a long journey was not included in my original price. If you want me to come any further you must pay me another 18 gold rubles." With the Chasidim nearly catching up, Itche had no choice but to agree. Eighteen gold rubles was still less than it would cost to replace his precious carpets and furniture!

Within a few moments, they arrived at Itche's home. The Rebbe stared intently at the 15 steps that led up to Itche's front door. "I had no idea that you had so many steps, dear Itche. That was not included in my original price. If you want me to go inside your home, you must pay me 18 gold rubles for each step!"

Itche nearly fainted. Before he had a chance to respond, the Chasidim - who had caught up - accompanied the Rebbe up the stairs and inside.

The scene that unfolded before Itche's eyes was just what he had imagined. He was not able to concentrate on even one holy word that the Rebbe taught about Chanuka. The evening finally came to an end and Itche breathed a sigh of relief. As the Rebbe was about to leave, Itche suddenly remembered to ask the Rebbe to bless his family. Surely this would make up for everything.

Quickly Itche gathered together his children and grandchildren and requested, "Rebbe, please bless my family."

"Bless your family?" the Rebbe looked at Itche in surprise. "I have no blessing for them," he said, and sadly turned away.

Itche felt as if the earth had opened beneath his feet. "Rebbe," Itche cried out, in a voice filled with desperation. The Rebbe looked at Itche long and hard. "In order for me to bless your family, you will have to sign over your entire fortune to me," the Rebbe said seriously.

How could he sign over everything to the Rebbe? He would be penniless! Itche felt like he was drowning. Moments of eternity passed. But then, he looked into the Rebbe's eyes and saw within them compassion. With his last ounce of strength he said, "If that is what I must do, then I will do it." And then he fainted.

In a haze, Itche heard the Rebbe saying, "Mazel tov, Itche, mazel tov!" The Rebbe began to bless Itche and his entire family. "May you and your family know only joy and health and prosperity from now on." For many moments, blessings flowed from the Rebbe's lips, each one greater than the previous one.

"Know, Itche, that you have just fought a great battle with your evil inclination. Until a few moments ago, you did not own your wealth, your evil inclination owned it! When you agreed to give me all of your possessions, I was able to wrest your wealth from your evil inclination. I now return it to you as Chanuka gelt (money). Use it well, dear Itche. Henceforth, use it well."

Itche thanked the Rebbe and began to take hundreds of gold rubles notes from his wallet. But the Rebbe declined. "I only accept 18 gold rubles for tea."

Henceforth, Itche was a changed man and his home was entirely different. Itche generously shared his "Chanuka gelt" throughout the entire year.

Where Did The Sukkah Of Reb Mottele of Chernobyl Go?

Sukkot, 1914. The effects of the World War II in Europe were being felt as far away as the Holy Land. Many of the supply routes were closed and provisions were scarce. The old Jewish settlement suffered numerous losses, not only from the pervasive hunger but also from the contagious illnesses that were taking their toll. Nonetheless, whenever holidays rolled around the atmosphere was charged with spiritual exultation and joy.

In those days, the sukka of the famous Reb Mottele of Chernobyl was a major attraction. The tzadik had quickly become one of the most beloved figures in Jerusalem ever since his arrival from Russia ten years previously.

Everyone had been astounded that first year, when Reb Mottele had built the most elaborate and beautiful sukka anyone had ever seen. Not only had the tzadik put it up himself, but he had also decorated it with considerable artistic skill. The sukka was made of the finest wood, with ornate carvings on its panels depicting scenes relating to the holiday.

Reb Mottele had brought the seven heavy panels with him from Russia. As he had once revealed, the amazing sukka had been inherited from his father, who had inherited the family treasure from his own father. With each succeeding generation, its wooden walls had absorbed additional measures of holiness.

For ten years the Jews of Jerusalem had marveled at the sumptuous structure, which was in striking contrast to their own humble booths. Crowds of people would gather around it in awe. Indeed, many stories were told about its powerful spiritual aura. It was even said that Rabbi Dovid'l of Lelov had pronounced it "a likeness of the supernal sukka on high."

That particular year, however, when the residents of Jerusalem made their annual trek to admire Reb Mottele's sukka, they got the shock of their lives. Gone was the imposing, elaborately carved edifice; instead, they found the tzadik sitting in a tiny, wobbly shack. Out of respect for Reb Mottele they hid their astonishment and said nothing. But they were naturally quite curious and could not help speculating as to what had happened.

A number of theories were proposed. Someone suggested that perhaps the terrible famine had forced Reb Mottele to sell the sukka, but this explanation was rejected out of hand. Everyone remembered how several years before a famous philanthropist had arrived in Jerusalem and offered Reb Mottele a veritable fortune if he would sell it. Reb Mottele had absolutely refused. No, there had to be another explanation. It was simply impossible that Reb Mottele would willingly part from his beloved sukka. But if so, where was it?

For the next few months the disappearance of Reb Mottele's sukka was the talk of the town. Then one day the mystery was solved, from a completely unexpected direction:

One evening during that particularly cold winter, a gathering was held in a Jerusalem synagogue commemorating the passing of a tzadik from a previous generation. Many of the most prominent figures in the holy city attended, among them the elder Chasid Rabbi Yisrael Meir Gottlieb.

Suddenly, in the middle of the commemorative meal, Rabbi Yisrael Meir stood up and requested the floor. The hall was immediately silent. "I would like this occasion to also serve as an expression of my personal thanksgiving," he stated. "It would have been fitting to arrange a separate celebration, but unfortunately, times are such that it is beyond my financial ability to do so.

"A few months ago my young grandson became very ill," he began. "His condition worsened until the doctors said that the only way to save his life would be to bathe him in warm water several times a day. You all recognize what this meant at a time when it was impossible to obtain a drop of kerosene or a lump of coal. How would we be able to heat the water to give the lad even one bath a day?

"At that point I went to my Rebbe, Reb Mottele, and explained my grandson's predicament. For a brief moment Reb Mottele was quiet. Then he jumped up, grabbed my arm and led me to a storage shed in the back of the house. Opening the door he pointed inside and said, 'Take wood from here.'

"What can I say?" Rabbi Yisrael Meir shook his head in disbelief. "When I saw that he was pointing to the panels of his sukka, my whole body began to tremble. Surely I was hallucinating. But Reb Mottele would not allow me to even think about it. 'You must take the wood. It is a case of saving a life.'

"With a broken heart I followed his instructions, splitting the holy panels into small pieces so they would catch fire and burn. My grandson was bathed as per the doctors' orders, and thank G-d, last week he was pronounced completely well. I would therefore like this meal to be considered in honor of his recovery. To tell you the truth, I don't know what is more impressive,"