There were once two wealthy men who lived in the same city, each of whom had a daughter of marriageable age. Both daughters married yeshiva students who continued their Torah studies after the wedding, supported by their fathers-in-law. One bridegroom was widely recognized as a great genius; the other was a more simple fellow, yet G-d-fearing and pious. The father-in-law of the ordinary bridegroom was very jealous of his friend's more brilliant son-in-law.
One day, as the more learned of the two young men was studying in the synagogue, the door opened and an obviously distraught man walked in. He opened the holy ark and began to weep. He had come to say good-bye, as it were, before drowning himself in the river. He was at the end of his rope and saw no way out except suicide, he mumbled through his tears.
Having overheard the man's words, the scholar rushed over to convince him that such a step was unnecessary. "Please tell me what the problem is."
"I am the treasurer of a communal fund in a certain town," the man answered. "I am responsible for large sums of money, yet I was gullible enough to be taken in by unscrupulous people. When they approached me for a loan I readily agreed, and gave them all the money in my charge. They immediately absconded. The date has already come and gone, and there is no way I can repay the loan. I see no alternative but suicide," he cried.
"You must put these thought from your mind at once!" the son-in-law replied, attempting to calm him down. "Do not worry about anything - I will give you the money. G-d forbid you should entertain such a notion!" The grateful man accepted the kind offer and was mollified.
The son-in-law, however, had no money of his own. He had made the promise to save the man's life. Where would he get such a large sum of money? His father-in-law certainly wouldn't give it to him. An idea formed in his head: He would go to his father-in-law's friend and appeal to him for money, without, of course, revealing why he needed it. Surely he wouldn't turn down his request.
The "friend" saw this as a perfect opportunity to "get even" with his colleague. "I will give you the money," he said, "on one condition: You must wear this chalat (he indicated an old, ragged article of clothing) through the streets of the city." His intent was to humiliate the young scholar: people would see him wearing the torn and filthy garment and assume he had lost his mind.
The young man readily agreed and the two shook hands. The son-in-law raced back to the synagogue and gave the money to the man whose life he thereby saved. Now it was time for him to keep his part of the deal. He donned the despicable garment and paraded through the city as he had promised.
The reaction was predictable. Just as the rich man had intended, everyone assumed that the young man had become unhinged. When he arrived home his in-laws angrily demanded an explanation, but he remained silent, further validating their fear that he was mentally unstable. After several weeks of otherwise "normal" behavior, however, they saw that they had been mistaken. The incident was eventually forgotten.
Meanwhile, the rich man who had perpetrated the disgrace on an innocent person gradually lost his wealth. Day by day his assets shriveled till he was forced to sell his household belongings in order to feed his family. Among the other items he sold was the old, torn chalat.
The garment was purchased by a poor tailor, who laundered it carefully, patched it up, and fashioned a set of tachrichim (funeral shrouds), to be used after his death. As the garment was slightly too short, the tailor took a piece of fabric from another source and made an alteration to lengthen it.
Many years passed. The tailor eventually died and was buried in the tachrichim he had prepared for himself.
A few days after the burial the tailor appeared to his son in a dream, asking him to open the fresh grave and remove the small piece of cloth he had once used to lengthen his garment. It was imperative he do this, the father explained, as it was only due to this small bit of fabric that the destructive angels were able to cause him harm.
When the son awoke he went straight to the rabbi and related his dream. "If your father appears again, tell him to come to me," the rabbi instructed. That night the son had the same dream. In it, he told his father what the rabbi had said. The tailor then appeared to the rabbi and repeated his request, exacting a promise from him to remove the offending cloth. After the deed was done, the deceased appeared once more to the rabbi and thanked him.
The rabbi was perplexed by the entire incident. He began to wonder about the significance of the cloth, and made inquiries about the tailor's funeral garments. Where had he purchased them, and to whom did they previously belong? After much effort he succeeded in uncovering the story of the brilliant son-in-law and the good deed he had done at the expense of his own honor. The garment possessed a special measure of holiness, for through it, the great mitzva of saving a Jewish life had been accomplished, accompanied by great self-sacrifice. In this merit, it had the ability to protect its wearer from all harm.
