In the hedkesh, my condition worsened, with painful sores so unsightly that no one could remain near me. My father-in-law demanded that I give his daughter a divorce, and I agreed. I had been punished measure for measure. I understood that Heaven was punishing me for the pain I caused my first kallah [whose engagement I broke after her father lost his wealth and became impoverished].
After several months in the hekdesh, I finally saw some improvement, and my appearance became less revolting. I utilized my time to learn Gemara and Shulchan Aruch. Another man in the hekdesh suggested that I travel together with him from village to village where he would introduce me as a learned man and collect tzedakah for me. He felt my appearance would arouse compassion. I needed sustenance, so I agreed.
Compassionate people realized I was no common pauper. They asked me questions on Gemara, which I explained to the best of my ability. People at first cringed at my appearance, but they soon knew “not to look at the bottle, but at what lies within.” Of all the sick people who collected tzedakah, it seemed I was the most ill and deformed.
His Daughter Seemed More Ill than Me
One day, we came to a town where we saw a poor man sitting in a wagon near the town’s hekdesh. Inside the wagon lay his daughter, who appeared more ill than I was. We began to talk and I agreed to leave my companion and travel together with this man and his daughter.
Eventually I agreed to marry his daughter. I revealed to him that I had been divorced, but that did not deter him. We were soon married in a pauper’s ceremony – both of us sickly and weak, dressed in rags and tatters, with a wedding “feast” of bread and onions.
When we spoke alone in the yichud room, I was filled with happiness, but my bride broke down crying, as she recalled her past – her father was once rich and when she was a girl of nine, she was engaged to an outstanding scholar. Her engagement broke off because her father had lost his fortune prior to the wedding. She described her humiliation, and how it caused her to fall ill. She now was crying because she was forced to marry a sick, poor man.
We Both Sensed the Guiding Hand of Hashgacha
I stared at her in amazement. This was my first bride! I exclaimed to her, “Look at me! I am your former chosson!” Both of us began crying. We sensed with powerful clarity the guiding hand of Hashgacha that brings people together and unites broken hearts. We informed the others of our story; we wanted all to see how Hashem, in His eminent compassion and loving kindness, establishes homes in Klal Yisroel. Even if a couple is parted against their will, He will seize them by the hair and bring them back to one another.
Immediately after the wedding, amazingly both of us recovered, returned to full health, settled in this small village near Amsterdam, and Hashem blessed us with wealth, honor, and wonderful sons and daughters. The man finished his story, and asked the Vilna Gaon, “I ask Your Honor, after I caused my wife so much pain and distress, am I not obligated to appease her over and above the strict letter of the law? Do you now understand why I accord my wife this honor?” (Tales for the Soul 3)
Reprinted from the Parshas Ki Sisa 5784 email of The Weekly Vort.
