By Zev Greenwald
It was the night of Tu B’Shevat (circa 1850’s), and a large gathering of chassidim surrounded the table of the Imrei Yosef. At the head of the table sat the Rebbe, explaining the significance of Tu B’Shevat. He spoke of the things that men and trees have in common.
“With great effort and the investment of much energy, one can help a tree grow – even a crooked one that has lacked nourishment and water. Sometimes, through devoted and persistent care, we can turn a stunted tree into a blooming one.”
At that moment, a well-dressed Jew entered the room. He walked over to the table and set down a gigantic fruit basket. Looking up, the Rebbe showed this man exceptional warmth all through the evening.
None of the chassidim knew the stranger’s identity. Afterwards, they heard the story from the guest himself: “I was born in Germany and arrived here only a few years ago. My father was with the Haskalah (Enlightenment) movement in Germany, and raised me accordingly.
“On my arrival here, I opened a textile factory and became very successful. Once, I purchased an enormous quantity of raw material at an exceptionally low price. I paid for all the materials in cash and returned to my office. A while later, the supplier of the materials walked into my office and demanded payment for what he had sold me. I thought he was joking. It soon became clear that I had fallen into a trap.
“I remembered that the man had not signed a receipt for the money I had paid. What remained was the contract, signed by me, authorizing the materials to be transferred and obligating me to pay for them. Furious, I threw the man out of my office. He informed me that he planned to sue me in court. I felt frustrated and helpless. It was clear that he would win the case, leaving me impoverished.
“I went outside for a breath of fresh air. I ran into an acquaintance and told him about my misfortune. He suggested that I accompany him to see his Rebbe, the Imrei Yosef, and ask for advice. In my despair, I was ready to try anything. I’ll never forget the glow in the Rebbe’s eyes when I first saw him. I could not check the tears that coursed down my cheeks, and managed with difficulty to tell the Rebbe what had befallen me.
The Rebbe asked if I kept Shabbos. I explained that a good deal of my business was done on Shabbos, making it impossible for me to refrain from working. The Rebbe then asked if I was careful to eat only kosher food. I answered in the negative. Then the Rebbe asked if I at least put on tefillin. Once again, my answer was no. The Rebbe guaranteed that if I put on tefillin each morning, I would win the case. I agreed to the Rebbe’s request and left him with a lighter heart.
