Once there was a respected priest, a prominent Jew well-versed in the Scriptures. Although he did not consider himself one of the Hasidim, he was deeply curious about the extraordinary deeds of the master Baal Shem. Over time, he developed a strong desire to meet him face to face.
One day, he packed his belongings and instructed his coachman and servants to prepare for a journey to the town where Baal Shem lived. His intention was that, upon arriving, he would immediately impress the master with his knowledge and understanding, hoping to be deemed worthy of discussing the Bible and the mysteries of Kabbalah with him.
Alas, when they met, Baal Shem avoided all such subjects and spoke simply about ordinary worldly matters. The wealthy man felt that the master showed little regard for his words. Nevertheless, he wished to leave with dignity, so he quietly placed a bundle of rubles on the table before him.
Baal Shem noticed it, and a faint smile crossed his face, as though he were remembering something from long ago.
“Now, my friend,” he said after a moment, “you must tell me what it is you need from me.”
The wealthy man replied with pride and satisfaction in his voice:
“I desire nothing – blessed be the name of God. My house is full of comforts, my sons have grown into a source of joy, my daughters have brought me worthy sons-in-law, and my grandchildren flourish in my home. No, Master, I lack nothing.”
“Ah,” thought Baal Shem. “Such a gift is a rare thing and must not be misunderstood.”
Rarely did anyone come to him bearing a gift without also opening their heart and pouring out the bitterness of their troubles. One sought a cure for a terrible affliction. Another wept over a barren wife. A third feared imprisonment and sought a way of escape. Yet here stood a man who simply offered a gift and wanted nothing.
“Then why have you come to see me?” Baal Shem asked.
“I simply wished to see you,” the man replied. “Your wonders are spoken of among the people, and you are known as a holy man. I said to my soul: I shall go there and become acquainted with his face and his voice.”
Baal Shem answered:
“Then, my friend, if it is truly so that you have traveled all this way merely to stand before me with your eyes and ears, then look at me carefully and listen closely. I will tell you a story to carry with you on your journey home. But listen well.”
“There once lived in a certain town two wealthy Jewish neighbors, each with a son.
The boys were of the same age. They invented games together, studied together, and loved one another with unwavering devotion.
But how brief are the days of carefree youth.
Both grew up and were married early according to their parents’ wishes. One moved many miles to the south, while the other settled just as far away in the opposite direction.
Now listen carefully.
The two young men felt at home in one another’s love. The world was still strange to them, so they wrote long letters every week, and those letters became their life. Gradually, however, their attention became fixed on the affairs and concerns surrounding them. Still, they continued to write each month, sharing both their successes and misfortunes.
But eventually the world seized them in its grip and crushed the free air within their souls. They became ashamed to admit in their letters that the silence from which their living words of affection had once arisen had vanished from their hearts. In time they stopped writing altogether, and only occasional news carried by others maintained a fragile thread between them. Each heard that the other was prosperous and respected.
Many years later, one of them lost everything that had brought him happiness and security. He could not even call the clothes he wore his own. In his misery, he remembered the friend of his youth:
‘The one who was once my whole world and dearer to me than the world itself will surely help me if I go to him.’
Under humiliating circumstances, he borrowed enough money for the journey and traveled to the city where his friend lived.
He was received warmly, and a feast was prepared in his honor.
As they sat together at dinner, his friend asked:
‘Soul of my childhood, how has the world treated you?’
‘I cannot say much,’ he replied. ‘Know only that even the clothes I wear are not mine.’
As he spoke, tears of pain fell from his eyes onto the linen tablecloth.
His friend asked no further questions, and the evening continued with music, laughter, and celebration.
When the feast was over and the two friends remained seated together, the master of the house summoned his secretary and ordered him to make an inventory of all his possessions and divide them equally, giving one half to his brother of the heart.
The poor man returned home wealthy and blessed. Soon hard work and success joined him once again, and within a few years his household became richer than ever before.
But in time, misfortune visited the home of the other friend and left him destitute.
No heart along his bitter road offered him help or guidance. As his troubles grew around him like a vast, thirsty spider spinning its web, he thought of his childhood friend.
Immediately he wrote him a letter. Having heard that his wealth had grown far beyond its former state, he informed him that he would visit in great distress and ask openly for assistance. He even specified the day and hour of his departure.
When the appointed time arrived, he set out on foot filled with hope. Around every bend in the road and within every distant cloud of dust, he expected to see his friend’s carriage coming to meet him.
Yet he traveled alone.
At last he neared the city, exhausted to the point of collapse.
Perhaps, he thought, his friend had taken another road to meet him and missed him.
When the city appeared before him, shining white and green in the distance, his weariness briefly lifted. He easily found directions to his friend’s magnificent house.
Entering it, he found himself in a hall filled with expensive furnishings, yet entirely empty of people.
‘Strange,’ he thought. ‘Perhaps my letter never arrived.’
He sat and waited.
Meanwhile, upstairs, his friend sat surrounded by books and ledgers, his head buried in his hands.
Since receiving the letter, he had remembered the day when this very friend had given him half his fortune out of brotherly love. He knew it was now his turn to do the same.
But the years had changed him.
At first, fear of poverty had taken root within him. Later, love of possessions had grown into cold greed. Everything in him resisted the thought of parting with his wealth.
At last he decided to refuse any help at all.
Fearing that the sight of his friend might melt his resolve, he ordered his servants to turn him away.
When one of the servants entered the hall, the visitor gave his name and asked to see the master.
Upon hearing the name, the servant obeyed his orders and refused him.
The poor man departed and found a place where he could be alone with his soul.
There he poured out his heart before God.
Exhausted from the journey and overwhelmed by grief, he died.
A few days later, the wealthy man also died, and both stood before the Judge of the World.
The poor man was granted a place of great glory because of his suffering and generosity of spirit, while the wealthy man was condemned to the place where ice burns like fire – the dwelling of hardened hearts.
When the first man learned of his friend’s fate, he cried out through tears:
‘Lord, Your light cannot dispel the sorrow I would feel for eternity if this man were to remain in the kingdom of torment.’
A voice answered him:
‘What is your request for the two of you?’
‘Grant us life again in the world,’ he replied. ‘Let him be born wealthy and me poor. I will appear before him as a beggar and ask for what he owed me and denied me in our former life. If his spirit remains as unhappy as before, I will pour shining tears upon his heart and struggle against his stubborn soul until I receive that gift from him, even if only penny by penny.’
And the voice granted them both another return.
The hard-hearted man was born into wealth and luxury, while the other grew up among the poor in a distant land.
“Now, my friend,” said Baal Shem, “listen carefully once more.
Neither man remembered what had happened before.
The poor man eventually set out in search of charity and came to the city where the wealthy man lived in comfort and pleasure.
As he wandered the streets, he stopped before the rich man’s house and raised his hand to knock.
Just then, a passerby saw him and said:
‘You knock there in vain. No one has ever left that house satisfied.’
The poor man lowered his hand.
Yet something in his heart whispered that he must receive charity from this house and no other.
So he knocked.
Standing before the master of the house, he begged for enough to ease his hunger.
‘If you do not help me, I will die,’ he said. ‘My life is in your hands.’
As he spoke, an extraordinary force seemed to rise within him. Strange and powerful words poured from his mouth as he besieged the locked heart before him.
The wealthy man, feeling such force directed at him, became enraged.
He struck the beggar.
And the poor man, having poured all his remaining strength into his plea, fell dead from the blow.
“Now, my friend,” said Baal Shem, “have you listened to the end? Is there still nothing you need from me?”
At that moment, the wealthy Jew fell to his knees and wept before the master.
“Teacher, I am that godless man. You have torn aside the veil of centuries. My eyes have seen through the chain of events. What must I do to purify the soul I have corrupted?”
“Go,” replied Baal Shem, “and see in every poor person you meet a child of the beggar you once killed. Give as much of your wealth and help as you can. Let your gifts be drenched in love.”
- Hasidic Parables and Stories: The Secrets of Spiritual Wisdom
- Hasidism: Mystical Philosophy, Stories, and the Secrets of Spiritual Life in Judaism
Author: Vasil Stoyanov
