After his marriage, Rabbi Uri of Strelisk lived in Lemberg. He and his family endured terrible poverty. His wife struggled to support the family while caring for young children, and he dedicated all his time to Torah study and serving G-d. Rabbi Uri kept a low profile. Aside from a few individuals with discerning eyes, no one attributed to him any special qualities. His social standing was like that of the other poor in the city. His faithful wife silently bore their poverty, allowing her husband to serve his Creator in his way.
One day, joy filled Rabbi Uri’s home—a son was born. Rabbi Uri honored Rabbi Leib Dimehlis with being the sandek. Rabbi Leib was a great Torah scholar, truly G-d fearing, wealthy, and also the brother-in-law of the Chozeh of Lublin.
The Dilapidated Shack
After the circumcision, the congregants, as was customary, followed the father of the child home for the festive meal. Rabbi Uri led the way, followed by the crowd, including Rabbi Leib. None of them knew where the father of the child lived. They walked and walked until they reached the edge of the city. There, among the alleys of a rundown neighborhood, Rabbi Uri stopped in front of a dilapidated shack, whose basement housed his “home.”
They all descended a staircase leading to Rabbi Uri’s residence. A faint light entered through the open door, dimly illuminating the darkness. As their eyes adjusted to the gloom, they were struck by the crushing poverty evident in every corner. They soon realized that no celebratory meal awaited them—only half a loaf of bread and a few onions sat on the table.
“Should Uri not bring his son into the covenant of Israel just because he has nothing with which to honor his guests?!” the father's voice rang out—perhaps to himself, perhaps to his guests, or perhaps to G-d.
Quickly, several of the worshippers sprang into action. They ran back to town and returned with candles, bread, salted fish, schnapps, and sweets. From various places they gathered chairs and benches and sat down to the seudat mitzvah (festive meal).
A Pair of Kielech
Rabbi Uri’s poverty deeply touched Rabbi Leib’s heart. After everyone had gone home, Rabbi Leib approached Rabbi Uri and asked, “How do you make a living?”
“Make a living?” Rabbi Uri repeated. “I make a living from a pair of kielech,” he said, using the Yiddish word for cows.
Rabbi Leib spoke with Rabbi Uri some more and then left. Upon returning home, he called his maid and instructed her: “From tomorrow, we will only buy milk from Rabbi Uri. Even if he demands a price above the market rate, don’t argue—just pay him whatever he asks.”
The next morning, the maid went to Rabbi Uri’s home with a large pitcher. His wife, recovering from childbirth, opened the door. Hearing the maid’s request, she looked at her in surprise: “Have you come to mock me? How can you ask me to sell you something I don’t have?”
The Benefactor
Embarrassed, the maid apologized. “No cows and no milk!” the maid reported back to Rabbi Leib. He was greatly surprised. “Could he have lied to me?” he wondered.
That very day he returned to speak with Rabbi Uri to clarify. “Heaven forbid I should lie,” Rabbi Uri responded. “Forgive me if you misunderstood my words. I wasn’t speaking about cows. I meant two other kielech: ‘Ki v’shem kodsho batachnu’ (For we have trusted in His holy name) and ‘Ki vo yismach libeinu’ (For in Him our hearts rejoice). From those two ‘kielech’ I draw my sustenance.”
Rabbi Leib now realized he was standing before a hidden tzaddik, a man of great spiritual stature. He wished to support Rabbi Uri financially, but suspected he would flatly refuse charity. What did he do? He brought his own wife into the plan and asked her to work discreetly with Rabbi Uri’s wife—without Rabbi Uri knowing.
Rabbi Uri’s wife found it hard to reject the outstretched hand. Her heart broke every time she saw her children’s hungry, tormented faces. Suddenly, new foods began appearing on the table. Several weeks passed in this way. Rabbi Uri seemed not to notice and carried on as usual, without questions.
The Move
But one Shabbat, as he sat at a table laden with fine foods, he turned to his wife and asked: “Tell me, my dear wife, where has all this abundance come from lately?”
His wife was then forced to reveal the secret—that Rabbi Leib had been their benefactor.
Rabbi Uri fell into thought. After a moment, he said: “If so, I see that from Heaven it is no longer desired we live in poverty. But it is also not proper to live off free gifts. It seems we must move to another city—and with that change of place, may our fortune also change for the better, G-d willing.”
Indeed, shortly thereafter, Rabbi Uri moved from Lemberg to Strelisk. There, his spiritual radiance shone brightly, and many began to seek him out. It wasn’t long before all recognized his greatness and holiness, and he became known by the title “The Seraph of Strelisk.”
From that time on, his home never knew want again—and he no longer needed to rely on free gifts.
