The Twenty Rubles

Reb Zusha once visited his teacher, Rav Dov Ber, the Maggid of Mezritch. After a fulfilling stay, drinking in his teacher's wisdom, he prepared to leave. As he went into the Maggid's study for a parting word, he mentioned that he needed to marry off his daughter. Reb Zusha was as poor as could be, and marrying off a child took a considerable sum. The Maggid immediately took 300 rubles, pressed them into his talmid's hand, wished him mazel tov, and sent him happily on his way. Reb Zusha was greatly relieved. Taking money was not his habit or his wish, but this, he thought, was necessary.

On the way home he passed through a tiny Jewish village and was startled by bitter weeping from a small hut. The other villagers were going about their business, and he asked one of them who was crying. "A poor widow," he was told. "She was about to marry off her daughter, but on the way to the chuppah she lost her whole dowry. The groom's family refuses to go on without it, and how will she ever gather 300 rubles again?"

Reb Zusha's tender heart ached for her. Then he realized that 300 rubles was exactly what he was carrying. He knocked on her door and said, "My good woman, I think I may have found your money." Her eyes widened. "Can you tell me if the money had any distinguishing marks?" he asked. "Yes," she said. "It was in a packet of two fifties and ten twenties, tied with a red string." "That is exactly what I found," said Reb Zusha. "I will go to the inn and bring it right back."

He ran to the inn, changed his money into the notes the widow had described, tied them with a red string, and ran back to her hut. By the time he returned, the whole village was buzzing with the good news. The girl had changed into her bridal dress and the neighbors were busy preparing the wedding feast. As he handed the money to the widow, Reb Zusha said, "I am keeping one twenty-ruble note for my trouble."

She looked at him as if he were speaking a foreign language, and the others who heard stood open-mouthed. "What?" cried the widow. "How can you rob a poor widow of twenty rubles, after doing such a holy mitzvah?" The crowd gathered around him shouting, "Thief. Stealing a widow's money. Shame on you." Reb Zusha would not budge. He clung to the twenty rubles as if for dear life. "This money is mine, as a reward for my trouble," he said.

Relatives, friends and townspeople berated him until it seemed they would tear him limb from limb. At last someone said, "Let us go to the rabbi. He will settle this." Everyone agreed to follow the rabbi's ruling and went to his house. The rabbi heard both sides and ruled, "Reb Zusha must give the widow the twenty rubles." Still Reb Zusha refused. A young man put his hand in Reb Zusha's pocket and took out the bill, and Reb Zusha was escorted to the edge of the village and unceremoniously thrown out.

Many months later, the village rabbi happened to meet the Maggid and told him about the incident with his talmid. The Maggid said, "You must go to Reb Zusha and beg his forgiveness. That money did not belong to the widow. I myself gave it to Reb Zusha to marry off his own child. He demanded twenty rubles because he wanted to avoid honor at any cost. He wanted this great mitzvah to be completely pure."

The rabbi was shocked and ashamed. He went to Anipoli to beg Reb Zusha's forgiveness. Reb Zusha told him, "You do not need my forgiveness, because I was never angry. I do not hold my honor high. But I will forget the matter completely if you promise never to tell the widow the truth. I never want her to suspect that the money was not hers by right." The rabbi agreed, and the incident was never mentioned again.