HaGaon Maran Rav Ovadia Yosef related the following story about Rav Shmuel Strashun, the Rashash of Vilna:
The Rashash ran a free-loan gemach where he lent handsome sums to needy individuals. He was, however, extremely strict about returning the loans on time. Once there came a G-d-fearing tailor to borrow the sum of one thousand rubles for a period of three months.
When the date arrived the borrower entered the Rashash’s study to repay the loan. The Rashash sat engrossed in a deep sugya and so the tailor paid his debt and left the money on the page of the Gemora that the Rashash was studying from.
The Rashash was so engrossed in his learning that he paid no attention to the tailor and did not notice the proceedings at all. His attention was completely diverted to the sugya at hand and all he noticed was someone standing and saying something; out of habit and courtesy he simply nodded his head in acknowledgment, which the tailor misinterpreted as an acknowledgment of the debt repaid! When the Rashash finished his study of the complex sugya he closed the volume of Talmud, returned the sefer to the shelf, with the money unnoticed, still inside!
After another month had passed, when the Rashash checked his gemach’s ledger, he noted the outstanding loan. He sent word to the tailor that he had an outstanding debt and he was asked to appear and pay up the loan.
The tailor appeared before the Rashash and explained that he had repaid the loan a month before. “How can that be?” said the Rashash. “Where then is your receipt? I do not remember you coming and paying.”
The tailor insisted that he had repaid the loan and since the Rashash had been so busy learning he had not troubled him to ask him to write a receipt. The Rashash countered that his custom was always to write a receipt to acknowledge the repayment of a loan and record it in his ledger. The tailor stuck to his story and stubbornly insisted that he had paid up the debt in full.
The Rashash decided to take him to Bais Din, and the matter became public knowledge. As the rumors and stories spread, the majority of the public opinion was in favor of the Rashash, and many openly disparaged, shamed and ostracized the tailor for his audacity to cheat and steal from the gemach and to further accuse the Rashash of lying. The tailor bore the brunt of the people’s displeasure and was transformed to the lowliest citizen of Vilna. Many of his customers deserted him, and his livelihood suffered as no one wanted to deal with a good-for-nothing thief! The tailor’s son, who was learning in Yeshiva, was so embarrassed at his father’s ruined reputation, that he left Yeshiva and hid his shame.
Time passed and the Rashash reviewed his learning and removed the very same volume of Talmud to study the same knotty, complex sugya as before. When he opened the Gemora, to his amazement, he found money inside! Bills that added up to the sum of one thousand rubles lay there in the Gemora. In seconds the matter had resolved itself, and he realized that the tailor’s story must have been true! He had come to repay the loan, and seeing the Rashash so involved in learning he hadn’t troubled him for a receipt. His face paled as he realized the implications of the matter and what he had done to the tailor, his reputation and his family!
He sent for the tailor and admitted his error. He saw the tailor walk in but it was not the same tailor he had previously known. Now, standing before him, was a sad, forlorn, broken individual with a shadow cast over his once fair face. “Please forgive me for my mistake!” cried the Rashash. “I will call the congregation together and stand before them, confess my mistake and publicly declare you guiltless and innocent!”
The sad tailor explained, “Honorable Rav, I appreciate what you wish to do, but what will your confession and admission achieve? Look at me! I am the laughing stock of all Vilna. People hate and despise me, and shame me and my name. My reputation and business are ruined and my livelihood is gone. My son ran away from Yeshiva, he is so ashamed. Even if the Rav were to publicly exonerate me, people will just say that the Rav did this as a favor to help me extricate myself from my situation and that I am not really innocent.” He hung his sad head as the Rashash pondered the truth of his words and what to do!
The Rashash had an idea, his face flushed with excitement and he declared, “Send for your son to come to me, for I wish to take him as my grandson-in-law, a chosson for my granddaughter. Then everyone will see the truth and know that you must be innocent.”
A gleam shone in the once-dull eyes of the tailor as his disbelieving ears heard the words of the Rashash. As his eyes shed tears of joy he grasped the Rashash’s hands and kissed them. He had never, in his wildest dreams, expected this! To be the Rashash’s mechutan? He departed with true affection.
A few days later the news spread – the debt had been repaid before, the mistake was admitted, the lost money was found and the tailor’s son was engaged to the Rashash’s granddaughter. The community leaders agreed, a match made in Heaven – but who would have had the audacity to suggest such a shidduch to the Rashash if not for Heaven?
(Anaf Eitz Avos, p. 222)
