It was Shemini Atzeres, 5518, and the beis midrash in Michelshtat was filled to capacity. After Minchah, they would sell the kibbudim of the coming day, and no one wanted to miss it. As Minchah concluded, Chaim Speisner, Michelshtat’s philanthropist, stepped up to the bimah and began the auctions. Chaim opened the bids at a low price but in no time the prices were high. Matisyahu, an impoverished fellow, was determined to buy something, but as the auction went on he was finding this rather challenging. Every bid he posed was outbid very quickly.
They were now bidding the final auction when Matisyahu turned to his neighbor, Baruch, and asked if he’d want to buy the kibbud together — the zechus of rolling the Sefer Torah. This zechus wasn’t limited to Simchas Torah, rather anytime throughout the year that the Sefer Torah had to be rolled the winner would have thet honor. Baruch agreed to put in five zehuvim, and if Matisyahu added five, they’d have a bid of ten — a sizeable bid, and they would share the honor.
When Matisyahu put in the bid for five, Chaim was sure that Matisyahu couldn’t afford it, so he put in a bid to outbid him. Matisyahu, though, kept going, and Chaim kept outbidding. This went on for a while, and Chaim started to suspect that Matisyahu was increasing just to get him to increase — with no intention of buying it. Chaim’s anger started to seethe until, out of frustration, Chaim announced his bid as “one zehuv more than Matisyahu’s possessions!” Hearing this everyone’s jaw dropped. That ended the bidding, but it got the town talking.
Rightfully Outdone
People were enraged at Chaim’s brazenness and the humiliation caused to Matisyahu. Everybody was bothered — but Matisyahu.
He went on with his simchas Yom Tov as though nothing happened. He thought he’d escape the murmurs at his seudah, but nobody was able to talk about anything else! His wife and his guest were distraught, Matisyahu, though, assured them that he bears no grudge. “Every person is entitled to buy a kibbud,” he announced. “It wasn’t reserved only for me. And beside for that, I wasn’t intending for my own glory; I was intending for Hashem’s. By Chaim buying it, it’ll bring in more money for the shul and thus allow it to grow and expand; that interests me, and nothing else.”
He then turned to his prestigious guest and asked, “Am I correct?”
“I believe that you’re coming out winning,” the guest ensured Matisyahu. “On the one hand, you’re getting s’char as if you’d bought it; and, you’re also giving in, which itself is rewarding. Chazal teach us: ‘Chishev laasos mitzvah’ — someone who sought to do a mitzvah, ‘v’neenas’ — and was unsuccessful despite his efforts — ‘maaleh ha’Kasuv ke’ilu asou’ — the Torah considers it as though he performed it. So, in Shamayim, it’s as if you’d bought the kibbud and fulfilled the mitzva. And on top of that, you gave in, which in and of itself is enormous.”
After Yom Tov, when it was time for the guest to leave, he thanked Matisyahu and asking him what he can offer in return. Matisyahu requested a bracha for children (over the years Matisyahu’s wife had six miscarriages). The guest ensured him a child which would leave him lasting generations.
“And what’s your name?” asked Matisyahu. “When the yeshua comes, I’d like to express my hakaros hatov to you.”
“My name is Eliyahu.”
“Please hold a moment as I get something for your trip,” Matisyahu requested. But by the time Matisyahu returned, the guest disappeared. There was no point in looking.
And as the tzaddik decreed, within the year, Matisyahu and his wife were holding their first newborn. They named their dear child Yitzchok Dov, and nicknamed him: Zeckel Leib. At a young age, he was known as a genius, using all his kochos for Torah and mitzvos, and eventually became Reb Yitzchok Dov Wormser the famed Baal Shem of Michelshtat.
