The Shochet's Knife

When Reb Zusha first came to live in his brother's house in Shinova, he had hardly tasted meat in years. Reb Elimelech's wife, who did not think much of this Tehillim-sayer, decided to treat him kindly all the same, and served a fine fleishig meal.

Reb Zusha would not touch it. First, he said, he must see the shochet's knife. The Rebbetzin was offended, but Reb Elimelech sent for the shochet, the most trusted shochet in town. Reb Zusha looked at the knife, made a face, and said that one could not eat from such a knife. The shochet went to sharpen it and came back. Still no good. A second time, a third time. By now the shochet, whom nobody had ever questioned, was humiliated and in tears. At last Reb Zusha looked at the knife and said: Now it is fine.

When the man had gone, Reb Elimelech said: Zusha, you may fool the shochet, but not me. There was nothing wrong with that knife.

You are right, said Reb Zusha. The knife was perfect. It was the shochet who was treif. He was full of pride, and his pride went into every animal he slaughtered. Hashem cannot bear pride. After he was shamed, his heart broke, and the last time he went to sharpen that knife he was davening with all his heart that his shechitah be kosher. The knife was the same knife. The shochet was a new man.

Reb Elimelech was silent for a moment. Then he said: Take me to the Maggid of Mezritch. I also need to be changed.