The Unexpected Guest
By Rabbi Paysach Krohn
When Rabbi Yitzchok Dovid Tatelbaum of Golders Green, London, passed away in May 2004, he left a legacy of philanthropy that is worthy of emulation. Not only did he support many of the institutions in London but he almost singlehandly helped the Gerrer Rebbi, known as the Lev Simchah, Rabbi Simcha Bunim Alter (1898-1992), transform the city of Arad in southern Israel into a Jewish metropolis.
Aside from his philanthropy and his many guests every Sabbath, Rabbi Yitzchok Dovid was an originator of Torah thoughts and insights that were published after his passing. His son, Rabbi Mendel, recently shared with me the story that shaped his father's life and led to an insight that he repeated dozens of times.
Rabbi Yitzchok Dovid grew up in the poverty-stricken town of Sierpc (pronounced Shepps) in Poland. Though the Tatelbaums were better off than others, often a supper consisted only of a thick soup with some pieces of vegetable and scraps of chicken.
On one particularly cold snowy evening, Mrs. Shprintza Tatelbaum began serving this kind of soup to her husband and nine children. Everyone had a bowl and she went from bowl to bowl, filling them according to the ages of children, giving each of them a fair share from a limited pot.
As she finished filling the last child's bowl and was getting ready to fill her own bowl, there was a nasty knock on the front door. Mrs. Tatelbaum sent one of the children to answer it. A poverty-stricken foul-smelling beggar walked in. He was far from clean and his tattered coat dripped with snow that fell on the floor as he made his way into the room dragging slushy muddy dirt with him. He barely looked up and barked in Yiddish, "Gitz essin!" (Give something to eat!)
The children frowned from the putrid odor that emanated from this vagabond. The mother said softly, "Go into the bathroom and wash up. You will feel better."
The children then watched in amazement as she went around the table and took a spoonful of soup from each of their bowls and put in it a separate bowl, which she then set down on the table for their unexpected new guest.
As the man ate his soup, it was obvious he hadn't eaten in a while. Repulsed as they were by this grimy individual, the children would never forget their mother's magnanimity.
Years later it was said that when Rabbi Yitzchok Dovid was interned in the Auschwitz slave-labor camp, where he was subjected to deprivation, starvation and cruelty, he kept only half of his daily bread ration for himself. The other half he would divide into tiny pieces and dispense them to others who were on the verge of starvation.
He hadn't forgotten what he learned as a child.
Decades later, as a wealthy man in London, he observed that the Torah states, When you lend money to My people, to the poor person with you...(Exodus 22:24). Since the Torah, in its original Hebrew, has no vowels, the word for "loan" can also be read, "to accompany". This would teach us If you want your money to accompany you [in the Next World,] lend it or give it to My people, the poor man...
"You can't take your money with you," Rabbi Yitzchok Dovid would teach, "but that which you give to others will escort you in the Next World."
When Rabbi Yitzchok Dovid passed away, the money he gave to others surely ushered him to Higher Spheres, where he met his mother, and those he sustained in Auschwitz.
Rabbi Paysach J. Krohn is a fifth generation mohel, who is also known throughout the Jewish world for his books and lectures. He has written a series of books of Jewish short stories, known as the Maggid Series, as well as other titles. He has lectured in cities around the world and is a frequent lecturer at CHAZAQ Programs. This story is reprinted from “In the Spirit of the Maggid,” published by ArtScroll/Mesorah Publications Ltd., Brooklyn, NY.
