There was once a poor man who came before the Kotzker Rebbe zy”a, and poured out his distress before him: his eldest daughter sat at home, having already reached marriageable age, and the poor man had nothing with which to marry her off properly. The Kotzker Rebbe sat at the table and wrote for him a letter of request to a wealthy man in a distant city, asking him to provide the wedding expenses.
The poor man dragged his feet day after day, until after two full weeks of hardship and toil along the road, he arrived in that city. Immediately he went to the wealthy man’s home, and to his joy found him present. He handed him the Kotzker Rebbe’s letter. The wealthy man was very pleased with the letter he had merited to receive from the Rebbe, read it carefully, and when he finished reading, took out a single ruble from his pocket, pressed it into the poor man’s hand, and dismissed him in peace.
The poor man was, of course, filled with bitter disappointment. For this he had endured all those labors? He had been fully confident that this letter would save him—and now it turned out to be only one ruble! He set off to make his way to another city, his heart filled with resentment and overwhelmed by feelings of despair.
After several hours of travel, suddenly a man pursued him in a splendid carriage drawn by mighty horses. When the man reached him, he said that he was a messenger from that same wealthy benefactor who had given him the ruble, and that now he was sending him all the wedding expenses, with generous surplus. The poor man was, of course, overjoyed that he had been delivered from his distress. Yet he was deeply puzzled by the wealthy man’s strange behavior: at first dismissing him with only a single ruble, and then, a few hours later, suddenly changing his mind and sending him all the money.
In great wonder, he hastened back to that city, knocked on the wealthy man’s door, and laid out his astonishment before him, asking why he had reversed his decision so completely within such a short time.
The wealthy man answered wisely: “I did not change my mind at all. There is no doubt that I observed our master’s instruction with exactness and care, fulfilling it in the best possible manner. However, when you came to me, I saw that you were relying completely on the Rebbe’s letter, to the point that you forgot entirely the mitzvah of emunah—to believe in and trust in Hashem Yisbarach. Therefore, I was compelled to send you away in embarrassment, so that your heart would be broken when you saw that even a letter from the greatest leader of the generation, written especially for you, had no power to help. Surely, in your bitterness of soul, you then poured out your supplication before the Borei Yisbarach and remembered that one must turn only to Him. Only then could I send you the full sum.”
This account teaches us a second chapter in the mitzvah of emunah—the trait of trust: that one must trust solely in Hashem Yisbarach, alone, as the pasuk states (Tehillim 55:23), הַשְׁלֵךְ עַל ה’ יְהָבְךָ וְהוּא יְכַלְכְּלֶךָ - Cast your burden upon Hashem, and He will sustain you”
We also learn from this the proper path of giving and charity: that the wealthy man was concerned for the recipient’s spiritual state to, not only for his physical needs, and did not absolve himself merely by giving money. Rather, he descended to the needs of the poor man’s soul and spirit. Such is the correct path of the trait of charity—to consider the needs of body, soul, and spirit of the one who asks, and to reflect upon one’s spiritual responsibility before Heaven. Undoubtedly, that wealthy man was a great individual, and all this was in accordance with the intention of the holy Rebbe who sent the petitioner specifically to him, so that beyond being saved materially, he would also learn moral instruction and the ways of a Torah life—of faith and steadfast trust in the living God.
