What’s new?” I told him about the terrible situation in my home, and he responded, “Listen, in the nearby shul they’re learning Torah now. Let’s wait for the rav to finish delivering his shiur, and then you can ask him what he says about this.”
I nodded, even though I didn’t really understand what the rav could tell me about the mice. Then my neighbor told me, “Come, let’s go in and listen to the shiur. You’ll enjoy it.”
I had nothing else to do while I waited, so I went in to the shiur, and just a few seconds after I entered, the rav started telling a story from the Gemara about Rabi Pinchas ben Yair, who once came to a city where the people asked him to save them from the plague of mice that had beset their entire city. Rabi Pinchas called over all the mice and asked them to tell him why they were eating from the crops. They responded that the people of the city were not taking ma’aser from their food, so they, the mice, had been given permission to take the ma’aser from their fields.
I did not understand how the tzaddik had spoken with the mice, but I am a person who believes, and if it says this in the Gemara, it must be that it was so. After the shiur, I went over to the rav and asked him what to do about the mice in my house, and he told me, “You heard the story. Give 20 percent of your income to tzedakah, and the mice will leave you alone.”
“But why give tzedakah?” I asked. “Anyone who doesn’t have money should go out to work. Then he’ll make money, and he’ll have what he needs. How is this connected to me? I don’t have extra money.
I am terribly embarrassed to admit that I had never given even one penny to tzedakah. No organization of any type had ever received a cent from me. I work, and I buy things for myself. Why should I give my money to others who didn’t work for their money? But now I had no choice, and it was very difficult for me. The rav told me that there is a mitzvah in the Torah to give tzedakah and that Hashem loves me and was showing me that He was waiting for my tzedakah.
I was convinced, but I asked the rav, “Why 20 percent? Why isn’t 10 percent enough?”
You need to give 10 percent so that you will not be poor, but now you need a yeshuah. You need a segulah, a solution to the problem, and therefore 10 percent is not enough. You can donate the 20 percent to this beis medrash. There is a kollel avreichim here, and it’s an excellent place to donate your tzedakah.
I saw how the wind had blown the windows off the structure, and how the entire trailer that housed it gave the impression of poverty, but I wanted to be sure the rav was not just speaking out of personal interest. After all, this was his kollel, so he would certainly be happy to receive money from me. I asked him, “And if I give the 20 percent to someone else, will it help?”
“Of course!” he told me.
That night, the nightmare reached its peak. I don’t want to make anyone here nauseous, so I’ll spare you the details. The meeting with the mice was horrible, to say the least, and immediately the next morning I decided to bring the money to give to tzedakah. I recalled that there was someone I knew who was an avriech in kollel, who has a very simple home. He lives modestly and barely sustains his family. I went to him and gave him the entire 20 percent of my salary.
That day I didn’t work. I returned home after giving him the money, opened the door, and discovered five of the mice that had embittered my life over the previous month, all no longer able to harm me.
I cleared them out of my home, and they never returned. The story was over!
Before I go, I must add another incredible fact.
Eventually, I moved to another apartment and transferred to a workplace in another part of the country. When I opened the door to the storage room, one of the workers told me, “Be careful! You should know that a mouse might jump out at you!”
“I’m not afraid of mice,” I told him. I opened the storage room door, and no mouse jumped out. I arranged what had to be arranged and did not meet even one mouse. My friends from work complained that the place was teeming with mice, but I didn’t come across even one of them.
After that, I bumped into mice only twice, and both times I knew exactly why it happened. It was when I had already received a salary and was still holding on to the ma’aser.
Actually, I’m not talking about ma’aser – a tenth, but a fifth. I give 20 percent, and I don’t lose out on anything. In fact it’s just the opposite. After I give tzedakah I have a good feeling, a feeling of inner peace and serenity. I feel how Hakadosh Baruch Hu walks with me everywhere always and reminds me that He is there.
