There was once a city in Tunisia with a large Jewish population. One year, a few months before Purim, the price of fish suddenly skyrocketed. The problem wasn't a scarcity of fish; the rivers swarmed with them. Rather, the trouble was that the government-appointed head of the fishing industry had arbitrarily decided to hike the prices.
His reasoning was simple: Knowing how important it was for Jews to eat fish on the Sabbath and holidays, he figured that they would pay any price for the commodity. And indeed he was right. Most of the Jews sighed as they dug a little deeper into their pockets. But for the poor, it was a delicacy that was completely beyond reach.
When the month of Adar (whose celestial sign is fish) arrived, the poor Jews went to their Rabbi to complain. It wasn't fair that they would be unable to buy fish for Purim. The elderly Rabbi was a venerated Kabbalist, who was also the mohel of the community.
The poor Jews' grievance touched the old man's heart, and he promised to help them. That night, the candle in the Rabbi's study shone till dawn. He was very busy consulting his holy books.
Early the next morning the Rabbi summoned his attendant. Handing him a small slip of folded parchment he said, "I have an important mission for you, but it must be kept secret. Go to the river now, before any of the fishermen arrive. When you are sure that no one is watching, throw this parchment into the water." The attendant did as he was told.
That day began as usual on the waterfront as the fishermen cast their rods and spread their nets. But as morning turned into afternoon their faces fell. Not one fisherman had had even a nibble. Their nets were completely empty.
At first the fishermen assumed that for some reason, the fish were avoiding the coastline. But when the fishing boats returned from the deeper waters and reported that they too had had no luck, they realized that something was amiss. "Oh well," they consoled each other, "it was just a bad day for fishing."
But the next day the same thing happened, and the day after that. It was very strange how all the fish seemed to have simply disappeared.
Of all the people in the city the governor, who loved to eat fish, was particularly affected by the shortage. In the very beginning he instructed his servants to prepare dishes of smoked and dried fish, but eventually his supply was depleted. "Why are there no fresh fish?!" he demanded one day. "There simply aren't any," the servants explained. The governor decided to go down to the river to see for himself.
At the governor's command the fishing boats set sail, and nets were spread up and down the length of the river. But no one caught even one specimen. The whole day's efforts were wasted.
At that point the governor gathered all the fishermen together and asked them for an explanation. "Esteemed governor," a short little fisherman piped up, "I'm not certain that the two are related, but on the same morning the fish disappeared, I noticed a Jew throwing something into the water. He was very careful to make sure that no one was looking. From that day on we haven't seen even one fish."
The finger of suspicion was clearly pointed at the Jews. The governor announced that if the fish didn't return within one week, a heavy tax would be imposed on the Jewish community.
The Jews were distraught at the libelous accusation, and their leaders declared a day of fasting and prayer. The entire community assembled in the synagogue and implored G-d to have mercy on their innocent souls.
Suddenly, the elderly Rabbi stood up to speak. "My brothers," he said, "the governor is right. We are the reason that there are no fish. But an evil decree has not befallen us; on the contrary, it is G-d Who is fighting our battle. When the price of fish was unfairly raised beyond the ability of the poor, I prayed to G-d to make the fish disappear."
The people were shocked. No one could believe that such a thing had happened. But the elderly Rabbi encouraged them to keep on praying. "Don't worry," he reassured them. "I will go now to meet with the governor."
The Rabbi went to the royal residence and was granted an audience. He explained to the governor why the fish had vanished. "If our esteemed governor will promise that the price of fish will go down, I will make sure that they return to our waters."
The governor was astounded by the story, and amazed at the power of the holy Rabbi. On the spot he promised to appoint someone else as head of the fishing industry. The Rabbi smiled, and invited the governor to go with him to the riverbank. At the Rabbi's command the fishermen spread their nets. They were quickly filled with fish of all varieties, shapes and colors.
That Purim, "there was light and joy to the Jews, and gladness and honor." And of course, lots of fish on their tables.
