The Cossack Has Plenty of Money

The Ahavas Sholom had a chassid who was an innkeeper. He leased his small inn and tavern from the local Polish nobleman, and after paying the poritz his livelihood was meager indeed. He was always late with his payments, and he often came to the Rebbe of Kosov for help. On these occasions the Ahavas Sholom would open his desk drawer and hand him whatever money he needed to pay his debts.

When the Ahavas Sholom passed away and his son, the Toras Chaim, became Rebbe, the chassid continued to visit the new Rebbe of Kosov. But now, when he described his financial troubles and his need for money, the Toras Chaim gave him no money, only a bracha.

"Rebbe, what will I do with your bracha?" said the bewildered chassid in exasperation. "I need cash now. Your father used to give me the money I needed, not just a bracha."

"My father," replied the Toras Chaim, "had a special bracha from Heaven that his desk and his drawers should always help the needy and never lack funds. He could always open his drawer and find whatever he needed. I have not inherited this bracha, so I cannot do the same. But do not worry. The Cossack has plenty of money to spare, much more than I, and he will give it to you."

On that enigmatic note the Rebbe bid his chassid farewell.

The chassid did not understand the Rebbe's strange reference to an imaginary Cossack. He understood only too well that without the money he owed the poritz he was in serious trouble. He went home sad and distressed. When his wife asked whether the Rebbe had given him the money, he answered bitterly, "He is no Rebbe."

He went to sleep sadly, and in the middle of the night he was woken by loud knocking on his door. When he opened it, a tall Cossack stood before him. "I am in a rush to join the war and I had to leave in haste," the stranger said. "I have no one trustworthy to guard my money until I return, if I ever come back. When I asked around these parts for someone I could trust with my life, they all said that you were the most trustworthy person. Here, take this money." He handed the stunned innkeeper thousands of gold coins. "Safeguard it for me until I come back. If I ever come back, give it to me." With that he left into the night without another word.

The innkeeper hid the money, and the next day he set out for Kosov. When he told the Rebbe the strange tale, the Rebbe smiled and said, "There is no longer any Cossack, and no longer any war. He is never coming back. The money is yours."

Needless to say, the chassid's faith in his Rebbe was restored, and he now had plenty to pay the poritz.