Chapter 49: Baruch, Keeper of the Orchard

00:01 We continue the story of young Baruch. He was now seventeen. He had met the gardener, who gave him work after a long period without any job. He had reached the point of real hunger, almost to the point of fainting, but boruch Hashem, he now had steady work with the gardener. A new life began for Baruch. As the orchard watchman, he was given a hut in the middle of the orchard. Baruch was close to nature and had always loved it. As he made his rounds, he could immerse himself in thought and delight in the Creator’s handiwork. He could devote most of his time to Torah and the service of Hashem. At first, the lack of books posed a problem: he was not permitted to take books out of the beis midrash. It was hard for him to ask private individuals, not only because he knew no one, but also because he did not want to draw attention to the fact that he was learned and knew Torah. So he had to review his studies from memory, and he was distressed that he could not study anything new. Suddenly he remembered the old man at the beis midrash on the edge of town. Baruch went to him and asked to borrow several books from the beis midrash, and of course the old man gladly granted his request. Now Baruch had what he needed. He spent most of his day in the orchard, studying diligently. Twice a day he went into town to daven with a minyan, reviewing what he had learned on the way there and back. The work did not take much time: all he had to do was walk through the orchard, make sure no animals got in, keep the birds from damaging the fruit, and see that the non-Jewish villagers nearby did not come to steal from the orchard. That left Baruch plenty of time to study and contemplate lofty ideas. Baruch took care to observe all the mitzvos that applied even in the orchard. Before Shabbos, he also arranged an eruv techumin so he could go into town on Shabbos

02:44 and return. But on his first Shabbos there, as he came back from the beis midrash to the orchard in the morning, he suddenly remembered that he had not stipulated with his employer that he would not be required on Shabbos to drive away birds that came to peck at the fruit on the trees, since driving them away was forbidden on Shabbos. He had also forgotten to stipulate that he would receive no pay for Shabbos. After thinking it over, Baruch concluded that the best arrangement would have been to agree with his employer that he would hire a non-Jewish watchman for Shabbos and deduct that watchman’s pay from Baruch’s wages. Baruch was distressed that these matters had slipped his mind when he hired himself out as a watchman. He asked himself whether this was proof that he had still not reached the proper level of mitzvah observance and that, despite all his efforts, he remained on a low level. Baruch began to reproach himself for forgetting explicit halachos and for treating holy Shabbos lightly. His Shabbos rest was disturbed that day. For hours he paced back and forth through the orchard, troubled over how to correct his lapse into such forgetfulness of halachos. At last, Baruch decided to undertake what is called teshuvah commensurate with the failing: to impose a penance on himself. First, he decided that he must leave the orchard and return to his life of hunger. Second, he must daven and plead with Hakadosh Boruch Hu for forgiveness, with deep regret for the past and a firm commitment for the future. Baruch set himself three weeks of corrective practices. First, he would eat nothing for three full days. After that, he would fast two days each week. On fast days, he would have to stay awake all night and study Torah, and during the day sleep no more than three hours. Over this period, he would also memorize the entire tractate of Shabbos. Well, once he had decided on these steps,

05:22 he felt considerably relieved. Early the next morning, he went to his employer and told him that, for a certain reason, he had to leave his job and that his employer would need to find another watchman. The employer explained that it was not easy to find a trustworthy person for the position. It would take a few days to find a replacement, so he asked Baruch to stay in the orchard for a while longer. He promised to come the next day and update him on how things were progressing. Baruch agreed, returned to the orchard, and began preparing for the path of teshuvah he had undertaken. When the employer came to the orchard the next day, he heard heartrending weeping coming from the watchman’s hut, accompanied by fervent davening. He was astonished. This, he thought, could only be the davening of a complete tzaddik. He could hardly grasp that it was Baruch the watchman who was davening like that. Baruch’s employer was called Avraham the gardener. He was one of two partners who owned the orchard; the other was named Azriel. It was Avraham who had come to the orchard that morning to speak with Baruch about leaving his job. From a distance he heard Baruch davening and weeping for a long time. Avraham listened. When Baruch finished davening, he began saying chapters of Tehillim with fervor, and afterward began learning Gemara aloud, in a pleasant voice and with great intensity. Avraham realized that this was no ordinary man. So that Baruch would not see that he knew his secret, Avraham turned back without entering Baruch’s hut. The following day, when Baruch went into town to daven, he came to Avraham and asked why he had not kept his promise to come to the orchard to discuss finding a replacement watchman. Avraham apologized and said that various reasons had prevented him from keeping his word. Besides, Reb Avraham asked him, what was the

08:11 rush? Surely things would work out in due course. Reb Avraham, who was a great Torah scholar and a tzaddik, gave his watchman’s situation a great deal of thought. He wondered what had prompted Baruch to leave his position. Avraham himself belonged to those spiritually minded people who had long recognized the need for Jews to engage in work to support themselves. In his youth, he had been known as an exceptional Torah scholar and had become the son-in-law of a respected Jew who supported him at his table for several years. When that period of support ended and Avraham had to begin earning a living, his father-in-law wanted him to become a rabbi, for Avraham was worthy of a rabbinic post in a distinguished community. But Avraham wanted to earn his living by the work of his hands and devoted himself to gardening. He grew various vegetables and sold them in Liozna. Later, he became partners with Azriel, and together they began leasing orchards. Avraham spent all his free time studying Torah. For all these reasons, it was only natural that Avraham understood and appreciated the nature of a young man like Baruch. It was clear to him that Baruch was a hidden tzaddik, not merely a Jew who wanted to fulfill the verse, “By the sweat of your brow you shall eat bread.” So Baruch’s decision to leave the orchard puzzled him: the conditions there seemed ideal for him to work and remain hidden. Avraham therefore decided that he had to find out the reason and try to persuade Baruch to stay at his job. He approached Baruch during a visit to the orchard and asked why he wanted to leave. Baruch was reluctant to reveal the real reason, but Avraham persisted until he had no choice. Baruch told him what had happened concerning Shabbos and about the penance he had undertaken. Avraham was prepared to enter into a halachic discussion to show Baruch that, despite everything, he should stay at his job, but he refrained. Why? So that Baruch would not think Avraham already knew that he was

11:05 A Torah scholar. So Rabbi Avraham chose to speak plainly. Among other things, he emphasized that what Baruch wanted to do belonged to the realm of piety, and that such piety was for Torah scholars alone. Simple people like Baruch, he said, should not presume to take on spiritual rectifications and things of that sort. Rabbi Avraham had now put Baruch in an awkward position: if Baruch did not want to admit that he was a Torah scholar, he had to agree with him. Rabbi Avraham himself promised that on Shabbos he would have a non-Jew take Baruch’s place as watchman. Baruch had no choice, then, but to remain at his post guarding the orchard. To ease his distress at having failed to achieve the rectification he sought, he immersed himself more and more deeply in Torah study and prayer. Six weeks passed. Baruch spent his days and nights studying Torah diligently. He assumed he was alone in the orchard, so from time to time he would pour out his heart in prayer, in a pleasant voice, and study Torah aloud. His voice echoed throughout the orchard. But without Baruch’s knowledge, Rabbi Avraham would come to the orchard and listen from a hiding place to his impassioned study. He would stand there for hours and then return home quietly. From what he heard, he understood that Baruch was a great Torah scholar. The days of waiting for the fruit to ripen passed, and harvest time arrived. Baruch now lost the peace he had enjoyed, for he was no longer alone in the orchard. The two partners, Rabbi Avraham and Rabbi Azriel, arrived with their families—women and children—as did other people, hired workers and volunteers. Everyone threw themselves eagerly into the harvest. Ladders were set against the trees, and they began gathering fruit in baskets and packing it into wagons to be taken to town. The orchard was filled with noise and bustle. Baruch helped with the harvest like everyone else, and here his physical strengths stood out. He had broad shoulders, strong muscles, a tall stature and a pleasant appearance. His deep, clear eyes, which conveyed depth of thought, made a particular impression. They also showed strength of character,

14:13 resolve and confidence. A hidden sadness could be seen in his eyes and on his face. Baruch was also blessed with clear, graceful speech and a pleasant, melodious voice. His Polish was fluent and polished, a pleasant surprise to the non-Jews working at the harvest, as well as to the Jews. Two weeks after the harvest began, when the work was in full swing, distinguished guests came to the orchard. They were the landowner from whom the orchard had been leased, accompanied by his family—his wife, son and daughter. They came to offer their good wishes to the two Jewish partners, who had paid a handsome price for the lease. The landowner showed his generosity by ordering a crate of fruit and insisting on paying for it, declining the partners’ offer to give it to him as a gift. During that visit, the guests took a particular interest in Baruch. His impressive appearance caught their attention. The landowner struck up a conversation with him and was surprised by his rich vocabulary. He asked Baruch about his life and learned that Baruch stayed in the orchard at all times as its watchman. The landowner introduced Baruch to his family, who also showed a warm interest in him and in what he had to say. Baruch felt embarrassed by the family’s admiring looks and grew uncomfortable when he noticed that the landowner’s daughter could not take her eyes off him. When she heard what his job in the orchard was, she asked, “Do you spend your nights in the orchard all alone?” Baruch answered with a nod and continued speaking with the landowner and his son. The daughter attributed his behavior to shyness and stopped pressing him, but she remained standing there, looking at Baruch’s face with a smile on her lips. The next day, the landowner and his family returned to the orchard. This time, their express purpose was to speak with Baruch. Rabbi Avraham and Rabbi Azriel found this surprising. After their conversation, the landowner invited Baruch to visit their estate. Baruch did not respond to the invitation. The guests then took their leave, and Baruch went on with his work, trying to put the incident out of his mind.