Toldos Chassidus (Chassidic History) · Episode 16 · 4 Sivan 5785 · 16:53
Episode 16: Hirsh Leib Teaches the People of Shrei
Episode description
Episode 16: Hirsh Leib Teaches the People of Shrei
Machine translation into English of the automatic Hebrew transcript.
00:01 We continue the story of Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak, the young scholar from the town of Shari. For now, we are telling the story of his father, Yaakov Karpel, and, along the way, of Hirsch Leib, a mysterious wanderer who came to Shari and decided to teach its unlearned Jews first the alef-beis and then Torah. Here is the continuation. At the edge of Shari stood a small beis midrash. It was called Feiva Zalman’s beis midrash because a householder in Shari by that name, who had no children, had built the synagogue in his own name. In this little beis midrash, Hirsch Leib gathered the town’s unlearned Jews and began teaching them the alef-beis as one teaches children. This breathed fresh life into these simple Jews. Encouraged and full of hope, they no longer felt abandoned and cast aside, as though, G-d forbid, they stood outside the camp and did not belong to the Jewish people. For five straight years, Hirshele worked with the simple Jews of Shari. Most learned to read from a siddur, and many came to understand the meaning of the words. Hirshele did not stop there. He also taught them proper conduct and good character. He spoke constantly about the need for Jews to do business honestly and treat others with friendship and kindness. Nor did he neglect the women. He taught them to guard their tongues, not to curse, not to get angry and not to quarrel. Throughout his time in Shari, Hirshele did not take a penny from anyone. He did not eat at the table of any of the town’s prominent residents, even on Shabbos or Yom Tov. In his free time, he sat and studied Torah diligently on his own. He supported himself from what he had brought with him. Word spread through Shari that Hirshele, the unknown wanderer, was sitting in Feiva Zalman’s beis midrash
02:57 and studying the alef-beis with the simple Jews. As we related, the town’s rabbi, Shmuel Akiva, had expressed his appreciation for Hirshele’s work. Then, one day, Rabbi Shmuel Akiva appeared at the little beis midrash in Shari. Hirshele was sitting at the table by the southern wall. It was customary in Jewish towns to have a long table beside the synagogue’s southern wall, with a bench on either side, where Torah classes were held. At the time, about twelve Jews sat around the table, some of them with white beards. They had siddurim before them and were listening as Hirsch Leib explained the meaning of the words. When Rabbi Shmuel Akiva entered the beis midrash, Hirshele and his students rose in his honor. The rabbi approached Hirshele, held out his hand and expressed his appreciation for his work. He was so moved by what Hirshele had done that he kissed Hirsch Leib’s hand. This made a tremendous impression on everyone present. The rabbi gave a short talk that included a fine parable. This is what he said: In a certain country, there lived a king of extraordinary wisdom and kindness, unlike any other in the world. He loved his subjects dearly and saw to all their needs. The king also set aside a special time three times a day when anyone could come before him and present his requests. In the king’s capital, there was a street where all the residents were, heaven help us, unable to speak. Naturally, they could not come before the king and tell him what they needed, and this caused them great distress. Then a doctor appeared who was able to heal them. With great skill, he worked to perform this wonder and give them the power of speech. Indeed, Hakadosh Boruch Hu granted him success, and he accomplished it. Some time later, all those who had formerly been unable to speak came before the king. To his great astonishment, he heard them present
05:34 all the requests they had kept in their hearts for so long, unable to express them except through gestures that had not always been properly understood. The king granted their requests. He also summoned the doctor and gave him precious gifts. The rabbi turned to those gathered: “Dear brothers, all your lives you were unable to speak. You could not read, and you did not know the meaning of the words of prayer. You served Hashem in silence, with sorrow in your hearts. Now the great doctor, Hirsch Leib, has come and worked to open your eyes, give you the ability to speak and pray, and breathe new life into you. Hakadosh Boruch Hu has granted him success, and you can now serve Hashem as you should. May Hashem bless you and accept your prayers together with the prayers of all Israel. Amen.” Nevertheless, despite the rabbi’s appreciation for Hirsch Leib, there was a group of learned Jews in Shari who could not forgive him for what he had done. They were used to looking down on unlearned Jews and keeping their distance from them. Now an outsider had come and raised those Jews to a level where the barrier between them and the rest of the Jewish people had been removed entirely. The hostility of this group toward Hirsch Leib grew into open hatred because of a particular incident. This is what happened. There was a great scholar in Shari named Eliyahu Shmuel the Porush. He was struggling to understand a certain passage in the Talmud. He debated it with the town’s other scholars, but they could not find a satisfactory explanation. For four full days they were stuck, unable to resolve the difficulties they had found. Suddenly Hirsch Leib arrived and explained the passage simply and clearly, and all their questions fell away. This stirred jealousy and hatred among those scholars. They began looking for faults and shortcomings in Hirsch Leib, but they could find none: Hirsch Leib was distinguished by his good character and fear of
08:24 Heaven. When they found nothing, they began belittling him, mockingly calling him “Yellow Hirshele” because of the color of his hair. Meanwhile, Hirshele’s standing in the eyes of Yaakov Karpel kept growing. Yaakov was the peddler who had brought him to town and had been his first student. He continued studying with Hirshele and progressed until he was truly learned. It turned out that Yaakov Karpel, who had once known nothing, was gifted with considerable talents that found expression in Torah study. Now he had no difficulty thinking about Torah as he walked from village to village or while he ate. At first, he had mentally reviewed the Shema and the Shemoneh Esrei, which had been the extent of his knowledge. Later, he would think about the content of all the prayers. Once he had reflected on the weekday prayers, he began thinking about the Shacharis and Mussaf prayers of Shabbos. As his studies progressed, he could effortlessly review, in his mind and aloud, the content of the Five Books of the Torah, the entire book of Tehillim and Pirkei Avos, which he knew by heart and understood. So Yaakov Karpel’s knowledge grew and grew, filling his mind at all times. In time, his livelihood improved as well. He and his wife attributed their success to Hirshele’s advice that they set aside a tenth of their income for tzedakah. Hirshele had told them to give a tenth of their money to tzedakah and explained that this was a segulah for success. Indeed, Yaakov Karpel prospered in everything he did. Naturally, this strengthened his spiritual bond with Hirshele even further, and he followed all his instructions and guidance. Yaakov Karpel was still deeply pained that Hakadosh Boruch Hu had not given him children, but he did not complain about it, and he also
11:14 He did not complain to Hershele. Instead, he found encouragement in caring for his sister’s children, whose mother was a widow. He also had a sick brother, and Yaakov Karpel supported his brother’s family as well. He made sure to send his brother’s sons to yeshiva. Yaakov Karpel spent almost all his money supporting the families of his sister and brother. When Hershele studied with someone, he did more than explain the subject to his students in clear language. He would also give an analogy suited to the lesson, so that it would take shape clearly in the student’s mind. And if there was a story in the Aggadah or Midrash connected to what they were studying, Hershele would tell it to his students, helping the lesson become fixed in their hearts. When Hershele told Yaakov Karpel about the mitzvah of tithing one’s money, he explained that a person must make four separations from the fruit of his vineyard and the produce of his fields. The first is terumah. Terumah is given to a kohen, and this mitzvah applies only in the Land of Israel, not outside it. After terumah come the first tithe, the second tithe, and the tithe for the poor. Hershele explained the difference between the first and second tithes: the first belongs exclusively to the Levi’im. The second also belongs to the owner of the field, but he must take it to Jerusalem and eat it there with his family. The fourth, the tithe for the poor, is distributed to the poor. And from the verse, “You shall surely tithe all the produce of your seed,” we understand that all profits are included. Hershele told Yaakov Karpel the story brought in Tosafos on Tractate Taanis, page 9, in the name of the Midrash. This is the story: There was once a man who was careful and scrupulous about the mitzvah of tithing. His field produced a thousand kor and thirty se’ah. Every year he tithed it as required, giving a hundred kor, and he did so throughout his life. The man became very wealthy. When the time came for him to pass
14:08 from this world, he called his son and said, “You should know that this field I am leaving you is a large, good field, and every year it produces a thousand kor.” He also explained how to tithe it and instructed his son to be careful to do so properly. Then the father passed away. Indeed, in the first year the field produced a thousand kor, as it had during his father’s lifetime, and the son set aside a hundred kor as his father had instructed. But the following year the son said, “Why am I giving so much as a tithe?” and decided not to tithe it. That year the field produced only a hundred kor, as a field like it normally would, rather than the thousand kor it had produced in his father’s time. The man was distressed. When his relatives heard what had happened, they all came to visit him, dressed in white clothes, happy and in good spirits. The man said to them, “It seems to me that you’re happy about my misfortune—that my field produced only a hundred kor and I lost nine hundred kor of good grain.” His relatives replied, “You yourself caused this loss by begrudging the tithe. When you were careful to set aside the tithe, Hakadosh Boruch Hu was, so to speak, the kohen and you were the owner, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave you your share. But when you did not set aside the tithe, Hakadosh Boruch Hu became the owner and you became the kohen, and He gave you your share: one part in ten.” Yaakov Karpel told the story to his wife, and they decided to set aside the tithe as required. They also decided to hold a family celebration in remembrance of the celebrations held when the Beis Hamikdash stood, without telling anyone the reason for their joy. Yaakov Karpel and his wife, Tzipa—Tzipa Bracha, gathered together all their property, cash, and promissory notes. They counted and calculated everything, set aside a fifth for tzedakah, and held a large meal. A year later, Yaakov Karpel made an exact accounting of the year’s profits, and he and his wife again deducted and set aside the tithe with great joy. And so he continued
16:51 to do.