For the Chasidim of Rabbi Mordechai of Chernobyl, Chanukah was a special time. Regardless of the distance, thousands would come from all over the country for the privilege of watching the Rebbe kindle the menorah.
One year, on the eve of the first night of Chanukah, the Rebbe's shamash announced that there would be a small deviation from tradition. Instead of kindling the Chanukah lights in the menorah he had inherited from his saintly father, Rabbi Nachum, the Rebbe would be using a different one. He offered no reason. "All I know is that the Rebbe told me to take it out of storage and get it ready," the shamash said. "I don't know where it is from, only that it is exceptionally beautiful."
That evening, when the sun went down, Rabbi Mordechai strode into the huge synagogue to fulfill the mitzvah. Everyone was already waiting in eager anticipation. Thousands of eyes followed the tzadik's every movement.
Indeed, the menorah that had been set up was not the Rebbe's usual candelabrum. And although the shamash had described it as "exceptionally beautiful," this was truly an understatement. The Rebbe recited the blessing and lit the wick, then stared into the tiny flame for a long time. It was obvious that the Rebbe's thoughts were far away, even though he was physically present.
A few minutes later the Rebbe shook his head slightly, as if returning to the world around him. Then, without even looking up, he started speaking:
"Many years ago I visited the village of Cherbin," the Rebbe began. "The Chasidim there greeted me very warmly, and I was invited to stay in the home of a certain Reb Meir. This Reb Meir, who had once been a follower of my late father, was the wealthiest man in town. He was a true Chasid in all of his 248 limbs and 365 sinews. His love for the Torah and his desire to perform mitzvot in the most beautiful manner possible knew no bounds.
"Towards the end of my stay in Cherbin Reb Meir led me into his treasury to show me his riches. There, in one corner of the room, was the most extraordinary silver menorah I had ever seen. Reb Meir told me that he had paid a fortune for it, and planned on using it the very next Chanukah. I picked it up to admire its workmanship and artistry.
'Reb Meir,' I said to him suddenly, looking him in the eye. 'Would you give me this menorah as a gift?' My question momentarily startled him, and he was silent for a minute. But after considering my request he immediately agreed. 'Yes,' he said. 'I would give all my wealth to the Rebbe.'
"When I got back to Chernobyl I instructed my family to put the menorah in storage. When Chanukah arrived I did not ask for it, but continued to use the menorah I had inherited from my father. My family was somewhat surprised by this, for why had I brought the other one if I wasn't planning on using it? But as time passed, everyone forgot that the other one even existed.
"This year, however, I decided to change my custom, and now I will tell you why:
"A few days ago, Reb Meir of Cherbin passed away. When he ascended to the heavenly court, it seemed obvious that his rightful place was in Gan Eden [the Garden of Eden]. Thousands of angels testified to all the good deeds Reb Meir had performed throughout his life. One after the other they described his love of Torah and his exceptional performance of mitzvot.
"Reb Meir was about to pass through the gates of Gan Eden when all of a sudden, an angel without any eyes stood up and cried out, 'I object!' Pandemonium broke out. The blind angel was given permission to speak, and proceeded to tell the story of the silver menorah Reb Meir had once purchased at great expense.
'What you don't know,' the angel explained, 'was that this menorah was bought from a poor Jew in Cherbin who was forced to sell it because his wife and children were starving. This menorah had been in his family for 13 generations, and was almost as dear to him as his life. For years he refused to sell it. Reb Meir was well aware of the poor man's circumstances. The otherwise generous and charitable Reb Meir had such an intense desire to own the beautiful menorah that he deliberately exploited the poor man and offered financial assistance only through the purchase of the menorah.'
"The heavenly court decided to review the case. In the end it was ruled that Reb Meir should go to Gan Eden, but not directly. To atone for the anguish he had caused, he would first have to wander around through the celestial spheres accompanied by the blind angel.
"Many years ago, when I visited Reb Meir's house and he showed me the menorah, I knew what was going to happen. I took it from him so that when the proper time came, I would be able to help him make amends. Tonight, when I lit the first candle of Chanukah in that menorah, it corrected Reb Meir's spiritual defect and allowed him to enter Gan Eden. It also restored the gift of sight to the blind angel...
