Reb Mendel had just visited the Baal Shem Tov, and had stopped in the town of Zolochov. His visit was no accident, though, for he had been asked by the Baal Shem Tov to pass through the town and convey his warm regards to Reb Michel, the water carrier of the town. Reb Mendel was honored to perform this favor for the Besht, and was himself very anxious to meet this man who was most certainly one of the hidden saints and mystics--members of the Baal Shem Tov’s circle of followers.
He entered the town and immediately stopped one of the residents and asked for directions to the home of Reb Michel. Following along the main road, he turned and turned again through the winding alleys until he had left the more prosperous looking streets, and found himself in the poorest section of the town. Here the houses were no more than toppling huts which barely could withstand the elements. Reb Mendel again inquired after the water carrier, and was directed to one shack which stood amongst this sad lot.
He approached the door and knocked, and a women appeared at the door. Reb Mendel lost no time in relaying the message: “I have come to give regards to your husband from the Baal Shem Tov from whom I have just come.”
She replied, “He is not at home right now, but I expect him to return shortly. If you wish, please come in and sit down.” Reb Mendel carefully entered the dark recesses of the hut and located a shaky chair on which he lightly perched.
As his eyes grew accustomed to the darkness, he was able to make out his surroundings. The shabbiness and poverty of the dwelling were all too apparent. The wooden walls were peeling and split and many of the window panes were cracked. The furniture was sparse and what there was was literally on its last leg. Small children, unaware of their ragged appearance, scurried happily about playing their games, occasionally casting a furtive smile at their guest.
He had no more time to study the room because in walked his host, Reb Michel, exclaiming with joy, “Sholom Aleichem! How happy I am to receive greetings from the Baal Shem Tov! My wife, you must prepare a festive meal in honor of our esteemed guest. Why, it’s quite an occasion when we receive regards from the Tzadik.”
His wife hurried to a corner of the room and prepared a modest repast while the two men chatted about the situation in the court of the Baal Shem Tov. Finally she reappeared and served the meal. Reb Mendel made the blessing on the bread and ate together with his host, and soon, the meal was finished. She poured a cup of tea and placed a small piece of sugar on the saucer. Reb Mendel was about to sweeten the beverage, and he was about to slip it between his teeth, as was the custom, when he heard the children whispering: “Surely he will save some of the sugar for us. After all, it’s bad manners to eat up everything. And won’t that sugar be a great treat!”
Reb Mendel put down the sugar and sat without drinking, seemingly absorbed in his own thoughts. “What is wrong, my dear friend? Why don’t you drink?” asked Reb Michel with great concern. “Forgive me, but I cannot help feeling great pity for you and your family,” Reb Mendel replied.
“Before you reach that conclusion, please let me explain our situation to you using a parable. Once, there was a rich man who planned a wedding for his only daughter. It was to be the most sumptuous and elegant occasion which the town had seen in years. All of the townspeople were invited, and the town’s paupers, especially, were counting the days until the great feast would be served. Finally the great day of celebration arrived, and the town’s poor gathered in huge numbers to enjoy themselves at the celebration.
“Suddenly, just as the bride was being led to the chupa she collapsed in a faint. The panic-stricken family surrounded the girl and tried to bring her to. The town’s doctors were summoned to help, but alas, no one could revive her. The shaken wedding guests were at a loss for what to do and they began to leave in small groups. Only the paupers, who had anticipated the wedding with such longing sat down to partake of the feast. The tragedy of their host did not dampen their spirit, ‘After all,’ they said, ‘the food is all prepared; why shouldn’t we enjoy ourselves and eat it?’ One of the paupers, though was a more sensitive soul, and he couldn’t bring himself to even look at the food, so deeply did he identify with his host’s pain.”
“My wife and I, you see, are like the sensitive pauper in the story. And the wedding is meant to represent the Bais Hamikdash, the Holy Temple where the guests, that is, the Jewish people used to gather to rejoice with their host, the Holy One, Blessed Be He. We, the sensitive guest, are so anguished by G-d’s tragedy, the destruction of the Holy Temple, that we cannot bring ourselves to enjoy the pleasures of this world. We eat and drink only what is necessary to survive, but we cannot truly rejoice while our Host is in mourning. We are waiting to rejoice together with Him in the Eternal Holy Temple.”
