Purim with the Baal Shem Tov in Mezibuz was unlike the happy holiday anywhere else. It wasn't merely the festive meal, nor the comaraderie of the thousands of Chasidim who gathered each year to be with their Rebbe. Nor was it simply the sincerity and joyfulness with which each special mitzva of the day was performed. It was a combination of all of these, or perhaps it was soley being able to bask in the Torah teachings of the founder of Chasidism.
Each year, the Baal Shem Tov would make a point to discuss Haman, the archenemy of the Jewish people, and his ancestor, Amalek. "Amalek has the same numerical value as 'safek' - doubt. He represents the confusion and concerns about G-d and His omnipotence in our lives, today," the Baal Shem Tov would say. "We must totally wipe out and eradicate Amalek from our G-dly service, trusting in G-d sincerely and joyfully."
On one particular Purim, the Baal Shem Tov called up a small child, Shaul, the son of Rabbi Meir Margolis of Lemburg. Shaul, though only five years old, was known to have a sweet, soulful voice. The Baal Shem Tov asked the child, "Shaul, sing for us. Show us how to serve G-d with sincerity and joy."
Shaul sang the song "Shoshanat Yaakov," customarily sung after the reading of the Scroll of Esther on Purim. As each sweet note flowed, every Chasid was transported into the recesses of his heart to find and eliminate any doubt or confusion that lay hidden there and replaced it with joy and trust. When Shaul finished singing, the Baal Shem Tov approached Shaul's father and asked him to allow the boy to remain with him for Shabbat. "Don't worry, Father. I want to stay with the Baal Shem Tov. I will not cry," Shaul reassured his father.
Shabbat passed uneventually, and at the close of the holy day, the Baal Shem Tov called upon two of his closest Chasidim to accompany him in returning Shaul to Lemburg.
Along the way, the small group stopped at an inn. Inside, the local peasants were partying, singing bawdy songs and carrying on. The Baal Shem Tov went into the middle of the room, clapped his hands and called out, "Silence!" Surprised, everyone complied.
"Would you like to hear real singing?" the Baal Shem Tov asked the peasants. And with that, he called Shaul to the center of the room and told Shaul to sing "Shoshanat Yaakov." Despite the strange and unusual surroundings, Shaul sang even more beautifully than he had just a few days earlier in Mezibuz. When he completed the song, there was a look of admiration and awe in the eyes of even the most drunken peasants.
The Baal Shem Tov called over three young children who had been playing in a corner of the inn. "What are your names?" the Baal Shem Tov asked the three waifs. They responded in order, "Ivan," "Stephan," and "Anton."
"Do you boys like the way my little friend Shaul sang?" the Baal Shem Tov asked the boys.
Sheepishly, the boys nodded their heads. "Do you like Shaul?" he asked them. Once again, they nodded their heads. "I want your boy to always remember the song Shaul sang and to always like Shaul and be his friend," the Baal Shem Tov said softly. A third time the boys nodded their heads.
With that, the Baal Shem Tov took Shaul's hand, motioned for his two Chasidim to follow him, and returned to his carriage.
Many decades passed. Shaul was now a successful businessman and renowned Torah scholar. One year, in early spring, Shaul was traveling back from a business trip. The journey had taken longer than he had expected and he wanted to be home by nightfall in time for Purim. But it was getting late and he still had to traverse a dangerous forest. Shaul pushed his horses harder and filled his mind and heart with joyous thoughts.
Suddenly, his carriage was forced to stop. A bandit had jumped out of some brush and grabbed the horses' reins. Then two more thieves appeared and pulled Shaul out of the carriage. Quickly the thieves found Shaul's money. It was well-known that such bandits never left their victims alive. Shaul pleaded with them to give him a few moments to say his final prayers. They sneered at him and said, "Your prayers won't help you, but go ahead and do as you like."
With that Shaul began to recite the final confession. As he recited the prayer, his thoughts wandered through highlights of his life, and rested on a day over 40 years earlier when he had spent Purim with the Baal Shem Tov.
"Amalek has the same numerical value as 'safek' - doubt. He represents the confusion and concerns about G-d and His omnipotence in our lives, today," he remembered the Baal Shem Tov saying. "We must totally wipe out and eradicate Amalek from our G-dly service, trusting in G-d sincerely and joyfully." With that, Shaul decided to spend his last moments in this world sincerely and joyfully trusting in G-d. He began to sing the tune that he had sung so many years earlier in the presence of the Baal Shem Tov and all of his Chasidim, "Shoshanat Yaakov." The melody burst forth from him as sweetly and soulfully as ever. His heart filled with joy and his spirit soared as he sang.
When Shaul was finished he saw that the three bandits were staring at him in surprise and wonder. He looked at them closely and then said softly, "You must be Ivan, aren't you. And you are Stephan and surely you are Anton," Shaul said, pointing at each one in turn.
The three men looked at Shaul and whispered, "And you are Shaul, whom we promised to always befriend." The three gave Shaul back his money and accompanied him out of the forest. All the while Shaul told the bandits about the Baal Shem Tov, his wondrous teachings and miraculous ways. There and then, the bandits decided to reform and become decent human beings.
A Purim miracle, indeed.
