In a quiet village near the town of Chortkov, there lived a Jewish tavern-keeper. For years, he had leased a tavern from the poritz (the wealthy Polish nobleman) that brought his family a secure livelihood, but soon, the tavern’s income dwindled. Despite this, the honest tavern-keeper always managed to scrape together the coins to pay the landlord. One year he could no longer afford the full lease, and approached the poritz, to plead for a discount of 500 silver reinish. Upon hearing the request, the poritz flew into a rage and said, "If you cannot pay my full price, I will lease it to someone else!"
Desperate, he decided to travel to the Chortkover Rebbi Harav David Moshe Freidman, the son of the heilige Rizhiner Rebbe, Harav Yisrael. When he arrived at the Rebbe's court, he found it bustling with Chassidim. He approached the Rebbe's gabbay and handed him 5 rubles. "Please," he requested, "take this money and promise me that you will let no one enter the Rebbe’s study until I am completely finished." The gabbay, pleased with the tip, agreed to guard the door.
The tavern-keeper trembling with awe, he handed his kvitel to the Rebbe. With tears in his eyes, he explained his predicament, asking the Rebbe to bless him with so that the nobleman would grant a 500 coin discount. The Rebbe read the kvitel and offered his blessing that the man should find favor in the eyes of the landlord.
But, being desperate he wanted an ironclad guarantee. He said, "Rebbe, I have just given your gabbay 5 rubles to ensure that absolutely no one disturbs us. I am not leaving this room until the Rebbe gives me a definitive promise that my livelihood is secured!" The Rebbe’s expression grew serious. He stood up and began to pace back and forth across the room, lost in profound, heavenly thoughts. Finally, the Rebbe stopped, turned to the tavern-keeper, and said, "Very well. I have a solution for you, but you must promise to obey my instructions explicitly."
"Of course, Rebbe! I promise I will do exactly as the Rebbe commands!" the Yid replied eagerly. "Listen closely," the Rebbe instructed. "Go back to the poritz. Tell him that you accept his terms and that you are willing to pay his full, original asking price for the lease. However, add one condition: you require him to supply you, throughout the coming year, with a large wagon full of firewood to heat the tavern, and a large wagon overflowing with grain."
The Yid was bewildered and asked, "Forgive me, Rebbe, but how can this be? The poritz refused to grant me even a small discount of 500 coins. A wagon of premium wood and a wagon of grain is worth at least 1,500 coins! Is it possible he will give me merchandise worth three times as much for free?"
The Rebbe looked at him calmly and said, "Did you not just promise me that you would obey whatever I commanded?" The Yid caught himself. "Yes, Rebbe, I did. I will do exactly as you say." The Rebbe smiled and gave him a bracha for success. As he left the room, a surge of emunah, came over him. His doubts vanished, replaced by total confidence in the Tzaddik’s words.
He marched straight back to the poritz’s grand estate. When he was granted entry, he said, "I have thought it over, and I agree to pay the full leasing price. However, I have one minor request to you: throughout the year, you must provide me with one wagon of firewood for the tavern’s hearth, and one wagon laden with grain."
To his astonishment, a calmness overtook the nobleman, nodded and replied, "Very well. I agree." Before the landlord could change his mind, the legal paperwork was drawn up. Both parties signed the contract, and the tavern-keeper handed over the rent money. The Yid walked away, marveling at the visible miracle. He had not only kept his tavern, but he had secured an incredibe deal.
A few days passed, when suddenly someone knocked on his door. "The poritz commands you to come to the manor immediately," the messenger declared. The yid's heart sank. ‘Oh no,’ The poritz has finally realized what he did! The magic has worn off, and now he wants to rip up the contract!’ But he remembered the face of the Chortkover Rebbe, and walked up to the manor.
When he stepped into the poritz's study, he braced himself for shouting. Instead, the poritz leaned in, his voice dropping to a whisper. "The moment you stood before me and made that request, I felt an overwhelming pressure in my heart. It was as if an invisible force was commanding my heart to obey you. And even now, every time I think about canceling the contract, my heart stirs again, telling me that I must do this for you. Therefore, because I signed it, and because my own heart compels me, I will honor every word of our agreement."
Filled with overwhelming joy and gratitude, the tavern-keeper hurried back to Chortkov. He entered the Rebbe's study, and recounted the miraculous words of the landlord. The Rebbe smiled, and showered the man with further blessings. From that year forward, the tavern-keeper enjoyed success. The free firewood kept his patrons warm through the bitter winters, the grain supplied his business abundantly, and his income flourished, transforming a harsh decree into an overflowing fountain of blessing.
