With such a significant investment, they wanted to consult the sage to determine whether they should proceed.
Seated before the Chofetz Chaim, they presented the details of the deal, explaining the financial potential and the strategic advantages of owning such a substantial resource. The Chofetz Chaim, however, simply shrugged and replied, “Listen, what do I know about business? My life is devoted to Torah and service to God. I am a Rosh Yeshiva, not a timber merchant. I do not own forests, nor do I deal in wood. But I would like to share a story with you.”
He then began.
“There was once a man who had come into a bit of money, and to celebrate, he decided to purchase a large barrel of wine. He visited the wine merchant, secured the barrel, loaded it onto his wagon, and transported it home. When he arrived, however, he found himself facing a challenge—this was no small cask, and moving it into his home was far more difficult than he had anticipated.
So, he went next door and knocked on his neighbor’s door.
‘Yankel,’ he said, ‘can you do me a favor? I just bought this enormous barrel of wine, but it’s too heavy for me to move by myself. Would you help me bring it inside?’
‘Of course!’ Yankel replied without hesitation. Together, the two men struggled under the weight of the barrel, carefully maneuvering it into the house.
Once inside and settled, the owner of the wine turned to Yankel with appreciation.
‘You were a tremendous help,’ he said warmly. ‘I’d like to show my gratitude.’
He stepped over to a cabinet, retrieved two wine glasses, and turned the spigot on the barrel. As the deep red wine flowed into the glasses, he handed one to Yankel and said, ‘Let’s make a toast to celebrate and to show my appreciation for your kindness.’
They recited a blessing, clinked glasses, and took a sip. Yankel’s eyes lit up.
‘Ah! This is incredible! Some of the finest wine I’ve ever tasted.’
Then, after a moment of contemplation, Yankel said, ‘I have an idea. You know, I think I know how you could get even more wine out of this barrel.’
Intrigued, the man asked, ‘Really? How?’
‘It’s simple! Just install another spigot! If you add another tap, you’ll have even more wine flowing from the barrel.’
The owner chuckled and shook his head. ‘Yankel, my dear friend, adding another spigot doesn’t create more wine—it only makes what’s already in the barrel flow out faster. If you could tell me a way to actually increase the wine itself, now that would be something remarkable.’
The Chafetz Chaim looked at the timber merchants and said, ‘The same principle applies to livelihood and wealth. The Almighty has already decreed the exact amount of money you are destined to earn in your lifetime. That livelihood, that sustenance, is like the wine in the barrel—it is fixed and predetermined. Right now, that sustenance is flowing to you through a single spigot, which is your current timber business. You are considering purchasing another forest because you believe that adding another source will increase your wealth. But who says you need it? Who says the money won’t continue to flow just as it has, through the same single channel?
“I would advise you to consider investing in something far greater than another business venture. Think about investing in eternity. The time you would spend purchasing and managing this new forest could be dedicated to something far more enduring—studying Torah, deepening your spiritual growth. If you are concerned about your financial gain, rest assured that the Almighty is fully capable of channeling the same sustenance through one avenue just as easily as He could through two. Nothing will be lacking.”
The two merchants took this to heart. They chose not to purchase the new forest. Instead, they carved out time in their daily schedules to study Torah, ensuring that their spiritual growth was just as much a priority as their financial success.
And what became of the forest? It was ultimately purchased by a Polish landowner, a non-Jewish businessman, who invested heavily in the venture. He hired teams to cut down the timber, prepared for large-scale distribution, and anticipated a massive return on his investment. But nature had other plans. Torrential rains swept through the region, turning the roads into deep, impassable mud. The timber could not be transported, and before long, it began to rot where it lay. The man suffered catastrophic financial losses and, in his despair, tragically took his own life.
Meanwhile, the two Jewish merchants continued their business as they always had, drawing their livelihood from the same spigot that had sustained them all along. Yet, by choosing to invest their time in Torah, they had acquired an entirely new barrel—one not of timber, but of eternity.
The Chofetz Chaim’s advice rings true. “I am not here to provide practical business advice on whether you should expand or diversify your investments. That is not my role. But what I do want you to understand is that sustenance comes from G-d, and it flows exactly as He wills—whether through one channel, two, or three, it remains the same flow. Do not overextend yourselves in pursuit of wealth at the expense of what truly matters. Ensure that you are also investing in eternity. Make time to learn Torah every single day. Do not let the pursuit of livelihood consume your entire life.”
Reprinted from the Parashat Beshalach 5785 edition of the TorahAnytimes Newsletter.
