Moshe the innkeeper was a lucky man, the owner of a flourishing establishment with a steady stream of customers. He had a warm Jewish heart and a simple, unswerving faith in G-d. A follower of the Baal Shem Tov, he travelled to Mezhibozh from time to time, to "recharge" his spiritual batteries.
On one such occasion, when he went to receive his customary blessing from the Baal Shem Tov before departing, the tzadik assigned him a mission. "On your way home," the Baal Shem Tov said, "I would appreciate it if you passed through such and such a town, where my dear student Ber lives. Please go to his house and convey my warmest regards." Needless to say, Moshe was delighted at the opportunity to fulfill his Rebbe's request.
In fact, Moshe the innkeeper was very excited at having been singled out. Being entrusted with any mission was a great honor, but delivering a message to a "dear student"? He was almost beside himself. As he traveled along, he tried to imagine who the individual in question might be. Surely he was a famous rabbinical personage, a respected Torah sage.
When he reached the town in question, Moshe began to make inquiries about the "great gaon Rabbi Ber." Oddly enough, no one seemed to know who he was talking about, or even care, for that matter. "There's no one here by that name," everyone told him.
Moshe was stunned and confused. Maybe there was something wrong with his memory? Over and over he replayed the Baal Shem Tov's instructions in his mind, but each time the tzadik's words were the same; he had definitely referred to this town as the place "where my dear student Ber lives." All day long Moshe wandered the streets and alleyways, knocking on doors and asking passersby for information. But his search yielded nothing.
By late afternoon he was worn out. He was already on the outskirts of town when he came upon a small, dilapidated house. From behind the door he could hear the sounds of children. Moshe knocked on the door, and when it opened he saw a large room almost devoid of furniture. In the center sat a melamed on a rough tree stump, surrounded by little boys. "Boruch Haba!" the teacher welcomed the guest heartily. "Boruch Haba!" the children echoed.
"Perhaps you know the great sage Rabbi Ber?" Moshe inquired for the umpteenth time that day.
"The great sage Rabbi Ber I am not acquainted with," the melamed answered, "but I do know someone named Ber."
Moshe's heart began to beat excitedly. "Do you also know where he lives?" he asked with a glimmer of hope.
"Certainly," the man answered. "I am Ber."
"You are the Baal Shem Tov's student?" Moshe couldn't believe his eyes.
When the melamed heard the Baal Shem Tov's name his face grew serious and he began to tremble. "Yes, he is my teacher and master."
"In that case, I bring you warm regards from him," Moshe said. The melamed made him repeat the message several times, savoring every word.
His mission fulfilled, Moshe could no longer contain his curiosity. "Excuse me for asking, but how is it that the 'dear friend' of the Baal Shem Tov should live in such deplorable conditions?" he asked.
The melamed looked at Moshe for a long time but said nothing. Then, seeming to change the subject, he asked him a few personal questions.
"Thank G-d, I am married to a lovely woman and have fine children," Moshe answered. He proceeded to tell him about his inn and the abundant livelihood it provided.
The melamed then asked Moshe about his house. Moshe couldn't resist a smile as he described its elaborate architecture and its fine furnishings.
The melamed suddenly interrupted his reverie with a question. "And where will you be sleeping tonight?" he asked. "In the very first inn I come to," Moshe replied, somewhat thrown off track.
"But if everything you say is true," the melamed continued, "and you are such a wealthy man, why are you dressed so simply? And why would you even consider spending the night in a humble inn?"
"Oh, well that's because I'm on the road," the innkeeper answered. "When a person is traveling, his clothing and accommodations aren't that important."
The melamed looked deeply into Moshe's eyes. "You have spoken well, and my answer to you is the same. I, too, am 'on the road.' This whole world is only a passageway to the next. That is why I am not so particular about my accommodations, as it is not my true home..."
At that moment the innkeeper understood why the Baal Shem Tov had sent him on this particular mission, and what it was meant to teach him.
Incidentally, the melamed was none other than Rabbi Dovber, who went on to become the great Magid of Mezeritch, the Baal Shem Tov's successor. (He passed away on 19 Kislev 5533/1771).
