Episode 81: Chaim Shimon Receives Regional Recognition

00:01 Young Boruch is in Dobromysl and hears the whole story of how the town developed, including Chaim Shimon’s arrival and what happened at Yitzchak Shaul’s wedding. When Yitzchak Shaul’s father, Rabbi Nissan, said of Chaim Shimon, “From this young man [?], one can make a mensch,” the chossid within him was telling him that here was a potential student of Chassidus, which was then beginning to take root in the Jewish world. Chassidus was indeed fundamentally opposed to the approach of the scholars with whom Rabbi Chaim Shimon had struggled. So Yitzchak Shaul immediately began to befriend Chaim Shimon, the maker of knitted garments, and later introduced him to Boruch. During that visit to Dobromysl, Boruch also met another young man named Chaim Eliyahu. Chaim Eliyahu was the son-in-law of Zalman Fishel, who had a nickname: “the only son.” Chaim Eliyahu was a remarkable person, but his father-in-law, who bore the nickname “the only son” all his life, was an even more interesting character. Zalman Fishel did not get that nickname because he really was an only son. There was another reason. In fact, he was the ninth child of his father, Ephraim, and all eight children before him were, boruch Hashem, still alive. So perhaps “the youngest son” would have been a more fitting description. But from early childhood he was delicate, sensitive and pampered, and shrank from any kind of work. His parents pampered him, and he pampered himself even more. They never gave Zalman Fishel a task in the house or garden, as they did their other children. Nor did Zalman Fishel ever volunteer to help, as children usually do. He never wanted to go to the well

02:47 or the river to draw water. He never lifted a load or a heavy object. He never drove the cow out to the field or brought it home, as other children did. He never put his hand to any task. That was how he earned the nickname “the only son,” and it stayed with him all his life. The nickname always suited Zalman Fishel: even when he was older, he continued to pamper himself and never dipped a finger in cold water, as though he were an only son forever. He did not work at any trade or engage in business. Until his marriage, he lived at his father’s expense. After his marriage, he lived at his father-in-law’s expense. Zalman Fishel’s father-in-law was Avraham Dan the butcher, at whose table Zalman Fishel ate for no fewer than twenty years, until Dan the butcher passed away. Even then, he did nothing to support his family, which had grown in the meantime. His wife supported them. Zalman Fishel had some knowledge of Torah, but as soon as he opened a Gemara, he would remember something or other he needed to take care of for himself. Instead of settling down to learn, he would hurry off to eat or attend to some errand. He always had a slice of cake, a sweet or a piece of fruit in his pocket, and at every opportunity he would take something out and chew on it, saying that he had a weak heart and must not weaken it any further. On the other hand, Zalman Fishel had a particular passion for leading the prayers. He would have given up everything dear to him for a chance to lead them, especially on Shabbos and Yom Tov, though a weekday service suited him too. When he went up to lead the prayers, you could hear “the only son” in his davening: he played with his voice and trilled it in such a pampered way that everyone talked about it. Zalman Fishel himself would afterward

05:35 go from shop to shop and house to house, asking what people said about his davening. Zalman Fishel would even slip a coin to Nunya [?], the bath attendant, so that every Friday he would ask everyone in the bathhouse, “Well, what do you think of our Zalman Fishel’s davening?” “Ah, that was davening as it should be! If only we had many more people to lead the prayers like him.” Everyone in Dobromysl knew that as soon as the month of Menachem Av arrived, Zalman Fishel wrapped a rabbit-fur scarf around his neck so that his voice would not, Heaven forbid, catch cold. In Elul he began consuming plenty of soft-boiled eggs and honey to keep his voice clear and strong. Zalman Fishel took precautions not just like an only son, but like the greatest singer in the entire world, whose singing the whole world was waiting to hear. Naturally, everyone in Dobromysl knew this interesting character, and he gave them plenty to mock and joke about. His son-in-law, Chaim Eliyahu, was a fine young man, friendly with everyone and especially with his fellow Torah scholars. He spoke calmly, briefly and to the point, seasoning his words with verses and sayings of our Sages, as well as a well-chosen expression or a fitting joke. People therefore liked Chaim Eliyahu. His father-in-law, Zalman Fishel, liked him too, and gave him the same special attention and pampering he gave himself. Zalman Fishel would walk around town lavishing praise on his son-in-law Chaim Eliyahu. The people of Dobromysl said that he really treated him like an only son. Now back to Chaim Shimon. As we said, Chaim Shimon earned his living making knitted garments. Over time, he became widely known for the quality of his products, which had many fine qualities. People came from near and far to Dobromysl to buy knitted garments from Chaim Shimon. His products reached as far as the banks of the Dnieper River. It was not only ordinary peasants who were interested in them, but noblemen and government officials as well. It was therefore no

08:18 surprise that the landowner Stefan Verbitsky, who had an estate on the banks of the Dnieper River, five versts from Liadi, sent his estate manager, Jan Bednitsky, to Dobromysl [?] to buy knitted garments from Chaim Shimon. It was to be a large purchase. Verbitsky had hundreds of serfs working for him and wanted no fewer than two hundred garments for them. Verbitsky was known as a capricious, hot-tempered landowner. His estate manager, Bednitsky, was known for hating Jews and never wanting to have dealings with them. The fact that these two nevertheless chose to buy Chaim Shimon’s products was proof of their good reputation. Chaim Shimon was indeed very pleased with the large order Verbitsky placed through Bednitsky. He did not have the required number of garments ready, but he promised Bednitsky that the entire order would be ready soon. Meanwhile, he handed over what was ready and set a date for completing the order and delivering it to the landowner’s estate. Chaim Shimon and Bednitsky agreed on the price and put the details of the transaction in writing. They signed a contract, and Chaim Shimon signed a receipt for the money he had received from Bednitsky for the finished garments he had given him. Bednitsky, the landowner’s estate manager, then went home, and Chaim Shimon immediately set to work completing the large order. He hired additional workers, and work went on day and night until all the garments had been made. Chaim Shimon worked to ensure both that they would be of the highest possible quality and that they would be ready well before the agreed date. For Chaim Shimon knew that he was dealing with a capricious, irritable landowner and an estate manager who hated Jews,

11:02 He wanted to make sure there would be no grounds for any complaint against him. When Chaim Shimon arrived at Vorbitsky’s estate a week before the appointed date, with carts loaded with all the goods, Bednitsky, the estate manager, received him angrily and told him to go back home with his load: the landowner had changed his mind about the deal. Chaim Shimon was astonished and began asking what had happened. Bednitsky refused to speak to him and drove him and the carts out of the courtyard. Chaim Shimon sensed that something was wrong. He had no idea that behind it all was a deception by Bednitsky, an enemy of the Jews, who had stirred up Vorbitsky’s anger against Chaim Shimon and all Jews. But Chaim Shimon decided to get to the bottom of it. He demanded that Bednitsky arrange for him to meet the landowner. “It’s not so much the loss I’ve suffered that concerns me, but my honor and reputation. I need to hear from the landowner himself why he changed his mind about the deal,” he told the manager. Bednitsky grew even angrier and began hurling abuse at Chaim Shimon and all Jews. “Don’t set foot on the estate!” he roared. “How dare you question whether I’m telling the truth? I told you the landowner wants nothing to do with you, and you dare argue about it?” From this response, Chaim Shimon understood that the matter lay not with the landowner but with the estate manager, and he repeated his demand to meet the landowner. Bednitsky flew into a rage, snatched up a rifle and aimed it at Chaim Shimon. Two of the cart drivers who had brought the load of knitted garments rushed to grab Bednitsky’s arm and stopped him from firing. Chaim Shimon had no choice but to leave the courtyard with the carts. But instead of going home, he went to a nearby village to think about what

13:40 he should do, and above all to find a way to change the landowner’s mind. The landowner had surely been given a bad impression of him and his goods. Meanwhile, word spread through the village that Chaim Shimon had brought the knitted garments for the workers ahead of the appointed date, but the cruel Bednitsky refused to accept the load. The weather had already turned very cold. Many of the serfs were ill with colds because they had no warm clothes. The peasants began to grumble. They, too, could not understand what was going on. Even Vorbitsky’s personal servants began talking about the puzzling affair, shrugging in bewilderment that Bednitsky had sent the Jew back with the knitted garments. It became the talk of the landowner’s manor, but the landowner slept all day, having spent the previous night drinking with neighboring landowners. When Vorbitsky awoke several hours later, his elderly servant told him the strange story of how Chaim Shimon had been sent back with his goods. “No one on the estate,” said the old servant, “can understand why Bednitsky won’t accept the knitted garments when they’re so badly needed.” “Call that black dog here at once!” Vorbitsky shouted, meaning Bednitsky. “And bring the Jew here too, with his knitted garments.” The old servant did not hesitate for a moment and ran to carry out his master’s order. He feared for his life, knowing that Vorbitsky might take a whip and lash him, as he had done more than once without the servant having any idea why. Everyone on the estate knew the cruel whims of the man who called himself Stefan Vile Mazhmi [unclear], as Vorbitsky liked to style himself. He would often gather all his workers and their families at his manor. He would sit with a scepter in his hand on an armchair set upon a platform, like an all-powerful ruler, and for no reason at all he would

16:10 point his scepter at a worker who displeased him and order that he be given five or ten lashes. The poor man would immediately be thrown onto a bench and tied to it, and someone would begin whipping him as he cried out and writhed in pain. Everyone present had to sing a song in praise of the cruel landowner. After the whipping, the victim had to crawl on all fours toward the platform and kiss the tips of Vorbitsky’s boots. Almost every one of the serfs had tasted those lashes at some point, and so they were all terrified of him. Stefan Vorbitsky’s old servant ran to Bednitsky and told him that the landowner demanded he appear before him at once and bring Chaim Shimon and his goods. Before long, Bednitsky stood before Vorbitsky, with Chaim Shimon standing to one side. Vorbitsky greeted his estate manager with insults and abuse and demanded to know why he had not been told immediately that the Jew had brought the knitted garments. Bednitsky tried to answer, but the landowner angrily shouted, “Shut your mouth, you black dog!” and turned to Chaim Shimon. “It was good of you,” he said, “to finish the knitted garments ahead of time. That pleases me. Stefan Vilbezhni [unclear] likes people who keep their word, even if they are Jews.” He added one gold coin to the price of each pair of knitted garments and ordered another two hundred. Chaim Shimon, who still believed Bednitsky’s claim that the landowner had changed his mind about the deal, stood there bewildered, thinking the landowner was making fun of him. “I was told that the master had changed his mind about the deal, and I was already prepared to take the goods back home. Now I hear something quite different.” “And who told you I’d changed my mind?” the landowner burst out. Chaim Shimon glanced at Bednitsky, who stood there frightened and thunderstruck, his whole body trembling as though with fever. The landowner realized that Bednitsky was behind the wrongdoing and thundered at him for making things up in his name, tarnishing his reputation and bringing him dishonor.

18:54 “You’ll pay dearly for that, you black dog!” he shouted, and began lashing Bednitsky’s face and body with a whip until he was bleeding. “You deserve a whipping too,” the landowner said to Chaim Shimon, “for believing that I don’t keep my word. That will never happen with me, even if it costs me a fortune. But I can see that you’re an honest man and that you brought the goods ahead of time, so I’ll continue doing business with you.” The landowner ordered the accounts for the knitted garments to be brought and decided to go outside to inspect the goods Chaim Shimon had brought. As always when the landowner appeared outdoors, the serfs blew trumpets and greeted him with loud cheers. He examined Chaim Shimon’s knitted garments, admired them and ordered them taken into the storeroom, where the previous garments were kept. As he did so, he compared the new garments with the old ones. Chaim Shimon was stunned. “Those aren’t my goods,” he said. “Those aren’t the knitted garments from the previous purchase. A pair like that isn’t worth more than half the price paid for mine.” Bednitsky fainted. The landowner ordered him taken indoors and placed under heavy guard. It was clear to the landowner that something was amiss, and he was determined to learn the truth. He ordered the two peasants who had traveled with Bednitsky to Dober Misl [unclear] to buy the earlier knitted garments from Chaim Shimon to be brought before him. “If you tell the truth,” he said, “you won’t be punished, and each of you will receive a glass of spirits and a loaf of bread. If it turns out you’ve lied, your heads will be cut off.” In trembling voices, the peasants recounted that Bednitsky had later sold the knitted garments they bought from Chaim Shimon at a higher price, while the goods he brought to the estate he had bought

21:28 elsewhere at a lower price. He charged the landowner even more than he had paid Chaim Shimon, and so profited on all sides. Chaim Shimon went home with an order for another two hundred knitted garments, and three weeks later he arrived at Verbitsky’s estate with his new wares. There Chaim Shimon met a new estate manager, Aharon Yosef of Liadi. He heard that Bednitsky had received twenty-five lashes and was lying sick and injured. It turned out that all the troubles the Jews had suffered on Verbitsky’s estates had come from Bednitsky, an enemy of the Jews. For a long time, Jews in those towns had enjoyed a comfortable livelihood, and this continued as long as the old landowner lived. But after the present landowner took over and fell under the influence of Bednitsky, who hated the Jews, Jews were no longer allowed near the estate. Bednitsky would have remained in control of Verbitsky’s estates had his fraud not been exposed thanks to Chaim Shimon, leading to his dismissal. Verbitsky himself now appeared at the Jewish community house in Liadi, accompanied by bodyguards, and read out a document informing the Jews that the “black dog” had been dismissed after being exposed as a fraud. For three years, Bednitsky had made false accusations against the Jews, causing him, Verbitsky, to keep them away. But now he, the benevolent landowner, knew that the Jews were honest people. He had reached this conclusion thanks to a certain Jew from [unclear], and he now asked the Jews’ forgiveness and invited them back to his estates. He reappointed Aharon Yosef, who had managed Verbitsky’s estates in the past, to his former position. Aharon Yosef told Chaim Shimon that Verbitsky’s father had been a great friend of the Jews and had done them many kindnesses. But the young landowner had fallen under the influence of Bednitsky, who hated Jews and had turned him against them. Now, though, everything had changed for the better. When Chaim

24:11 Shimon sent word to the manor that he had arrived with his new wares, Verbitsky instructed the Jewish estate manager to settle the account with him and pay him what he was owed. He then asked Aharon Yosef to bring Chaim Shimon to the manor so that they could share a meal with the landowner. Out of consideration for the two Jews’ feelings, Verbitsky ordered that the meal be prepared at Aharon Yosef’s home. As they sat around the table, Verbitsky recounted what he remembered of his father’s dealings with the Jews of Liadi. It was after a large part of the town had gone up in smoke in a great fire. His father had received a delegation of the rabbi and leaders of the Liadi community, who told him what those affected by the fire needed. The landowner had then ordered timber sent from his forests to rebuild the beis midrash and many homes belonging to poor Jews. The young landowner Verbitsky now spoke with great pride of his father’s friendship toward the Jews and expressed his satisfaction with the change in his own attitude on the matter. Chaim Shimon was in seventh heaven. After all, he was the one who had brought it all about.