Reb Zusha had gone to visit his teacher and Rebbe, the holy tzadik Reb Dov Ber, the Maggid of Mezritch. After a fulfilling stay, drinking in his teacher's wisdom, Reb Zusha prepared to take his leave. When he went into his Rebbe's study for a parting word, he mentioned to Reb Dov Ber that he needed to marry off his daughter. Now, Reb Zusha was as poor as could be, and to marry off a child required a considerable sum. Reb Dov Ber immediately took a sum of three hundred rubles and pressed it into his disciple's hand, wishing him mazal tov, and sending him happily on his way.
Reb Zusha was greatly relieved. Now, his wife and daughter would be at ease. Although he had taken money, which was not his habit or desire, it was a necessary thing, he thought to himself.
The trip home took Reb Zusha through many towns and villages, and as he passed through one tiny Jewish village he was startled by the sound of bitter weeping coming from a small hut. The other villagers were going about their business, and he stopped one and asked, "Who is that crying?"
"That is a poor widow who was about to marry off her daughter. But on the way to the chupa she lost the entire dowry. Now, the wedding is off because the groom and his family refuse to go on with it without the dowry. And how will she ever amass three hundred rubles again?"
Reb Zusha's tender soul was pained for the poor woman. Then he suddenly realized that three hundred rubles was exactly what he had with him. He walked up to the door of the hut and knocked. "My good woman, I think I may have found your money!" Her eyes widened in disbelief. "Can you tell me if this money had any distinguishing marks?" asked Reb Zusha.
"Why yes," she replied. "The money was in a packet of two fifties, and ten twenties, and it was tied with a red string."
"Yes, that's exactly what I found!" replied Reb Zusha. "I will go to the inn and get the money and bring it right back."
Reb Zusha ran to the inn and changed his money for the denominations the widow had described. Then he tied the bills together with a red string and ran back to the widow's hut. By the time he returned the little village was buzzing with the good news. The girl had changed into her bridal dress, and the neighbors were bustling about preparing the wedding feast. As Reb Zusha presented the widow with the money, he said, "I am keeping one 20 ruble note for my trouble."
She looked at him as if he was speaking a foreign language. The others who had overheard the remark stood with their mouths open. "What!" screamed the widow. "How can you rob a poor widow of 20 rubles! And after you have just performed a most wonderful and holy mitzva (commandment)!" The others converged around Reb Zusha screaming and yelling, "Thief! Stealing a widow's money! For shame!"
Reb Zusha, however, refused to budge. He clung to the 20 rubles as if to dear life. "This money is mine as a reward, and for my troubles!"
Relatives, friends and other townspeople berated Reb Zusha, and soon it seemed that they would tear him limb from limb to retrieve the money. Finally someone piped up: "Let's go to the rabbi. He will be able to settle this once and for all!"
Everyone agreed to follow the rabbi's ruling and they all trailed along to the rabbi's house. The rabbi listened to each side and then ruled: "Reb Zusha must give the widow the 20 rubles."
Still, Reb Zusha refused to give up the money. One young man put his hand into Zusha pocket and extracted the bill. Then Zusha was escorted to the edge of the village and unceremoniously kicked out.
Many months later the village rabbi happened to encounter Rabbi Dov Ber and related to him the incident with his disciple, Reb Zusha.
The Maggid turned to the rabbi, "You must go to Reb Zusha and beg forgiveness. That money didn't belong to the widow. I myself gave it to Reb Zusha to marry off his own child! He demanded twenty rubles because he wanted to avoid honor at any cost. He wanted this great mitzva to be completely pure."
The rabbi was shocked and ashamed when he heard this. He went to Anipoli to beg Reb Zusha's forgiveness. But Reb Zusha replied to him, "You don't need my forgiveness because I never was angry. I do not hold my honor high, but I will forget about the incident completely if you promise never to reveal the truth to the widow. I never want her to suspect that the money wasn't hers by right." The rabbi, of course, agreed and the incident was never mentioned again.
