Leah Gitl Shukhman
In every generation, the Jewish people have carried out with particular reverence the mitzvah of removing chametz from their possession before Pesach. It is known that when we devotedly clean and kasher our home and everything in it to remove chametz, the Creator “washes away” the evil inclination from our souls and frees us from its power.
Here is an account of real events that illustrates this better than any commentary.
Reb Shloime was one of the wealthiest and most respected residents of the village. Besides owning a factory that produced high-quality beer and vodka (which brought in a substantial income), he was also the local landowner's personal adviser. The landowner valued and respected the intelligent Jew, whose advice had saved him from financial ruin more than once. Reb Shloime, for his part, also treated the landowner respectfully and his fellow Jews warmly. Everyone knew that if someone was in trouble and needed good advice or a large sum of money, both could readily be found with Reb Shloime.
Before this Pesach, Reb Shloime was especially busy: an urgent order had come in for a large batch of vodka, and he needed to finish producing and shipping it all before Pesach. So when he learned that his neighbor, the baker Reb Wolf, was going to town to arrange the sale of chametz, he was delighted:
– Reb Wolf, could you arrange the sale on my behalf as well? I have so much to do; I can't get anything done!
– Of course, Reb Shloime, no question about it! I'm happy to help!
– Well, thank G-d. Then I appoint you as my agent.
– All right. Don't worry—everything will be taken care of.
Reb Wolf left, and Reb Shloime returned to his work. The batch of liquor was successfully sold, and Reb Shloime devoted himself wholeheartedly to preparing for Pesach.
And then the great moment arrived—the evening of the Pesach Seder. Thanks to the efforts of his wife, Rachel, not a crumb of chametz remained in the house, and the whole place sparkled with cleanliness. The children, dressed in new clothes, sat at a splendid table that also hospitably welcomed many poor people who had nowhere to go for the Seder. Reb Shloime himself, in a snow-white kittel and an enormous shtreimel, looked like a king. The Seder began.
Reb Shloime read the Haggadah, offered commentary on it, and listened to the wonderful stories the children had learned in cheder. He drank the four cups, ate matzah, and delighted in the good questions—but somewhere deep down, he kept feeling a strange uneasiness, as though something were bothering him. “It is simply the evil inclination,” our hero decided. “The yetzer hara wants to deprive me of the joy of the festival; I must try to ignore this gloomy inner voice.”
However, as it later turned out, that evening the inner voice had good reason…
When Reb Shloime came to the synagogue the next morning, he encountered Reb Wolf, who had already begun praying. After the prayers, Reb Shloime wanted to speak with his neighbor, but realized that he had already left. When this happened several times, Reb Shloime began to suspect that something was amiss.
The next day, after the prayers, he took the route Reb Wolf usually followed and almost immediately ran into him. Reb Wolf turned pale, then flushed, and was about to turn aside, but Reb Shloime grabbed his hand firmly:
– My dear Reb Wolf, why are you avoiding me? How have I hurt you? I'll put everything right; just tell me…
– Y-you.. what… n-no… – Wolf began, stammering. – Quite the opposite, I… I've caused you trouble… yes… I didn't mean to… by mistake… please forgive me…
– What's the matter, Wolf? – Reb Shloime cried. – Just tell me what happened; don't torment me!
– I… I forgot to sell your chametz! – And, pulling his hand free, Wolf ran off in shame.
Forgot to sell the chametz! The news struck Reb Shloime like a bolt from the blue. Forgot to sell the chametz!!!
Now he understood why he had been unable to rejoice wholeheartedly at the Pesach Seder. Chametz!
Staggering like a drunk, Reb Shloime entered the house.
His devoted wife immediately noticed that something was wrong:
– What happened, Shloime? Sit down, drink some water! Has someone died, G-d forbid?!
– No, Rachel. It's just… it just turns out that we didn't sell the chametz!
Reb Shloime, of course, did not want to violate the prohibition against lashon hara, speaking ill of others, and therefore did not say that Reb Wolf had let him down.
– What chametz, Shloime?! There wasn't a crumb left in our house even two days before Pesach! You can count on me!
– Oh, Rachel, you don't understand… I'm talking about the factory! It's all chametz! The ovens, the machines, the barrels, even the floor—everything there is saturated with chametz!
Rachel went pale for a second, but immediately found a solution:
– Well then, what's the problem, Shloime? Go outside, approach the first non-Jew you come across, and sell him the factory!
– Oh, Rachel, Rachel… It's too late now! Too late! You can't sell chametz during the festival itself!
– So what are we to do?
– What are we to do? Burn it!
– Have you lost your mind, Shloime?! Burn down the factory? It's everything we own!
– There is no other way, Rachel. Every second that the factory remains in my possession, we are violating a Torah prohibition!
– Well then, Shloime, – his devoted wife replied, – if that's the case, we must burn it! Go, do it as quickly as you can; don't put it off!
Reb Shloime took matches, kerosene, and several logs, and headed toward the factory. His heart was heavy. His wife's words, “It's everything we own!” still rang in his ears. Of course, G-d had given and G-d had taken away, but going from a respected wealthy man to a pauper in a single day was no easy matter. Reb Shloime stopped and looked up at the sky. “My Heavenly Father, give me the strength to withstand this test… to fulfill Your mitzvah…”
And suddenly he roused himself and said to himself: “Shloime, Shloime! You have the opportunity to fulfill such a rare mitzvah—what an incredible privilege! So do it joyfully! After all, when a mitzvah is performed with joy, it is priceless!”
Reb Shloime turned off his path and walked briskly straight to the home of Mendel, the local violinist, whose orchestra was an indispensable part of every Jewish wedding in the shtetl.
– Mendel! – Reb Shloime called to him. – Get your group together; there's work to do!
– What is it, Reb Shloime? Is it urgent? – he asked in surprise.
– It certainly is! I want everyone at my factory in ten minutes—with their instruments! I'll pay well! And by the way, whoever you meet on the way, tell them all to come to the factory! There will be singing and dancing!
Mendel understood very little, but he knew the main thing: if Reb Shloime said he would pay well, then he would! So he let his wife know and hurried to gather all the members of the orchestra.
Rumors spread quickly in a village, so fifteen minutes later, it was not only the orchestra that stood at the factory doors, but also a sizable crowd of curious onlookers. What was Reb Shloime planning?
Reb Shloime walked resolutely up to the door, leaned the logs against it, poured kerosene over them, and tossed a lit match. The wooden door quickly caught fire, followed by the factory building itself. After watching the fire for a couple of seconds, Reb Shloime called loudly to the violinist:
– Mendel, go ahead! Play the liveliest songs you know!
And Mendel began to play.
Reb Shloime began to dance, linking arms with two people from the crowd. Others joined them, and very soon circles of Jews were dancing and singing at the top of their lungs in front of the burning factory building:
«Ashreichem Yisroel, mi metaher eschem! Avichem she-bashamayim, Avichem she-bashamayim!» (“Happy are you, people of Israel. Who purifies you? Your Heavenly Father…”).
After a while, the fire reached the barrels of beer and vodka; they split open, and rivers of alcohol flowed down the street.
The local drunkards came running at the enticing smell and stopped in amazement when they saw what was happening. But they soon came to their senses and, without wasting any time, got down on their knees and began lapping it up straight from the ground. The merriment kept growing!
Ivan, the estate manager, was on his way to his master when he noticed tongues of flame rising into the sky.
– Oh, oh, oh! What will happen now! – he cried in horror. – How will we manage without Reb Shloime's products? We must save it!
Ivan rushed to the factory and, to his astonishment, saw a crowd of Jews dancing to lively music, with Reb Shloime himself in the center.
“I must inform the master immediately!” Ivan decided, and spurred his horse.
On hearing what was happening, the landowner demanded that Shloime be brought to him immediately. Ivan set off on his way back.
With considerable difficulty, he squeezed through the crowd, grabbed Reb Shloime by the hand, and tried to tell him that the landowner had summoned him. But Reb Shloime, caught up in the holy joy of the mitzvah, did not even notice who was in front of him. He danced with his eyes closed, pulling the resisting Ivan into the dance. Seeing this, people roared with laughter.
At last, Ivan managed to break free of Reb Shloime's grasp and shout into his ear:
– Hey, Reb Shloime, the landowner has summoned you! It's urgent!
Reb Shloime stopped and opened his eyes.
– Listen, Ivan, tell him that I can't come right now. I am fulfilling an important mitzvah—I am burning chametz. The landowner is an important person, but our Heavenly Father is even more important. This is not a sermon; it is the truth! But tomorrow morning I will come to see him and explain everything. Be a good fellow and pass on everything exactly as I said it.
With these words, Reb Shloime turned away from Ivan and went on dancing, paying no attention to his attempts to say anything more.
The irritated Ivan returned to the landowner:
– He's gone mad, this Reb Shloime of yours! He started dancing with me… Said he had a mitzvah, a sermon, chametz… I didn't understand anything, not a thing, except that he'd lost his mind!
When all that remained of the factory was a heap of charred bricks, Shloime thanked everyone present, paid the musicians, and went home. Rachel was happy to see her husband's face shining with a special light.
The next day, Reb Shloime appeared before the landowner.
– Well, Shlomka, how do you explain your behavior?
– Your Excellency, the thing is that I… um… forgot to sell my chametz—leavened products. A Jew is not allowed to have leavened products in his possession during Pesach. This is the Creator's law. Well, my factory—everything there was leavened, so I had to burn it down.
– To burn down a factory over this Pesach business?! – the landowner raged. – Well, all right, but what was the orchestra for?!
– I simply wanted to show my Heavenly Father that I obey His commands with joy, even when it is hard for me…
– What?! I see you've really gone mad! I don't need madmen in my village! I'm giving you twenty-four hours; by tomorrow I don't want a trace of you here! Leave without any trouble, and if you disobey, I'll throw you all into a pit—you, your wife, and your children! I'll spare no one! Get out of here!
There was nothing to be done: Reb Shloime had to pack his belongings quickly and move to his brother's home in the neighboring shtetl. He even had to sell his spacious house for a pittance—there was no time.
Yet Reb Shloime did not regret his decision for a single second:
– The most important thing, – he told himself, – is that I withstood the test and brought joy to my Heavenly Father! Had He not decreed it, the landowner could have done nothing to me. We will yet see that everything is for the best!
And indeed, after some time, the Almighty showed him that this had been a sacrifice pleasing to Him. The Creator rewarded Reb Shloime with wealth that could never be lost: spiritual, eternal wealth. A son was born to him who later became known as a sage and tzaddik of the highest stature, Rav Chaim of Czernowitz, renowned for his book “Be'er Mayim Chaim” (“Well of Living Water”). He was a beacon of Torah who illuminated the entire Jewish world!
Prepared by G. L. Shukhman