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.

The Generous Miser

The town of Berdichev was buzzing with the news of the death of a certain very wealthy Jew. The townspeople, however, didn't shed a tear, for this man, who had been so blessed in his life, shared not a penny of his great wealth.

The Chevra Kadisha (burial society) planned to compensate the community for his miserliness; they would charge the man's heirs a high price for the burial. When they presented their demands to the man's children, they were shocked at the sum, and insisted that the case be heard by the rabbi of the town - none other than the saintly Rabbi Levi Yitzchak.

When the heirs and the representatives of the Chevra Kadisha appeared before Rabbi Levi Yitzchak, they were surprised to see the depth of his grief at the passing of the rich man. He not only ruled in favor of the heirs, but he said that he would be sure to attend the funeral.

Of course, when the news spread throughout the town that the Rabbi would be attending, every other Jew made certain that he would be there as well. As a result, the entire town closed up and every able - bodied man and woman came out to accompany the deceased to his final rest. Needless to say, they were full of curiosity as to why this stingy man was receiving so much respect.

When the funeral was over, people approached the rabbi and asked the reason for such a show of honor to such a person. "No one knew him like I did," was his reply. "Everyone took him to be a miser, but I came to discover his true character through three legal cases which I was called upon to decide. If you have the time, I will tell you about it.

"The first case concerned a wine merchant who acted as an agent for all the other merchants in the town. They would give him the money to purchase the wine, and he would receive a commission for his trouble. Well, once, just as he was about to go to make his purchase, he realized that the money was missing. The shock of losing the money of so many others affected him so badly that he went into shock and passed out. A doctor was summoned, but the poor man could not be revived. Suddenly a man stepped out of the crowd and announced that he had found the missing money. The merchant was instantly revived by the good news.

"Not too long after, another man came forward and said that he had really found the lost money, but he had succumbed to his evil inclination and kept it. When he heard about the person who had claimed to have found it and had in actuality parted with such an enormous sum in order to save the life of a stranger, his conscience troubled him. Now, he wanted to return the money to the generous donor.

"That man, however, refused to accept it. He didn't want to relinquish his mitzva of saving a person's life. The culprit insisted that I hear the case and make a ruling. My decision was that the donor - the man whose funeral we just attended - was not required to accept the money.

"The second time I met him was when a man came to me with a similar demand. He wished to repay a generous benefactor, but the benefactor refused to accept the money. In this case, a poor man had fabricated a story to placate his wife while he would be away in a distant town trying to 'strike it rich.' It so happened that he had no money to support his family and he told his wife to go to a certain wealthy man in the town and demand payment every week for a fictitious 'salary.'

"She innocently went and asked for what she thought was her due, and the rich man, understanding the delicacy of the situation, paid her for many months. When the husband returned, having succeeded in making his fortune, he insisted on repaying his benefactor. He, however, replied that his business was solely with the wife, and he had nothing to do with the husband. Again, I ruled in his favor; he was entitled to keep his mitzva.

"Finally, the third time I met him was after a very wealthy man who had gone bankrupt asked this man for a loan. 'Who will be your guarantor?' the rich man asked.

"'My only guarantor is G-d Alm-ghty,' he replied.

With a smile, the rich man said, 'He is a Guarantor I can really trust!'

"When the day arrived for the man to repay his loan, he failed to appear. Several months later, however, he did come, begging forgiveness for his lateness. 'You owe me nothing,' the rich man answered. 'Your Guarantor was very honest, and He paid me very well with a large, unexpected profit. Therefore, you owe me nothing.'

"Again, the recipient of his largesse appealed to me, but I, once again, ruled in favor of the deceased. He was not required to accept repayment of his loan, if he refused to do so. So, my friends, you see, your assessment of the deceased was very wrong. He was no miser. On the contrary, he was a great and saintly person who practiced the giving of charity on the highest level - that of giving quietly, with no fanfare and no public acknowledgment. Just as the deceased stood in my court and accepted my verdicts three times, he is now standing before the Heavenly Court, accompanied by his mitzvot, which are testifying to his saintliness before that highest court."