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Yom Hasho'ah Vehagevurah

The Pesach Sandwich

No one could get Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev angry. No matter what anyone did, he would always find something nice to say. He believed in treating all Jews kindly, no matter how much his patience was tested.

Rabbi Levi Yitzhak’s neighbor had a son who did not want to keep any of the mitzvot. One year, during the seder, the family was about to make a sandwich of matza and maror for korekh. To everyone’s surprise, the boy pulled from his pocket two slices of bread and some meat, and made himself a sandwich. His father started to cry: “How dare you bring bread to my seder?”

“But father,” the boy answered, “I’m hungry after reading the Haggadah. What difference does it make if I eat bread or matza? I’m sure Rabbi Levi Yitzhak wouldn’t mind. The father jumped up from the table and grabbed his son. “Oh wouldn’t he? Lets go ask him.” The whole family marched next door, the father leading the boy by the ear. “Rabbi,” the man said, “even you would not tolerate what my son just did. He ate bread at our seder. I have four sons, rabbi, and I don’t have to tell you which one he is.”

Everyone room was shocked; everyone, that is, except for Rabbi Levi Yitzhak. He smiled at the boy and asked if it was true.

“Of course, Rabbi. I was hungry so I made myself a sandwich.”

“Don’t you know that on Pesach Jews don’t eat bread,” Rabbi Levi Yitzhak continued.

“Well, Rabbi,” the boy answered, “to be totally honest, I don’t really believe in all this. What difference could it possibly make if I eat bread or matza?”

The entire room was silent. Only the boy’s mother could be heard sobbing in the doorway. “Please come here,” Rabbi Levi Yitzhak called to the boy. The boy walked slowly, afraid that this time he had gone too far.

As he approached the table, the rabbi hugged him. “Such a fine boy,” he said to the father, “and so honest too,” he added to the mother. “He’s ready to admit what he did and he’s acting according to his beliefs. Such a fine, honest boy must sit with me at my seder. I have so much to learn from him! Just one thing though.” The rabbi turned to the boy and said, “There’ll be no sandwiches at the seder table - unless you make them with matza.”


Flour For Pesach



It happened in Jerusalem in 1915 - the “Year of the Great Drought.” There was no grain in the entire city. Pesach was only days away, and the Jews of Jerusalem wondered whether they would have matzot for the holiday.

Rabbi Yisrael, the leader of the Jewish community, was walking on the outskirts of town, praying that God would help them, when he noticed a cloud of dust winding toward the city. As it approached, he saw that it was a long caravan of camels. “Halloo there,” he called to them. In just a few seconds, an Arab merchant rode up to him. He looked worn and tired, but from his clothing, Rabbi Yisrael knew that he was quite wealthy.

“Salaam Aleikum, the merchant greeted him, “Is this the road to Damascus?”

“No,” Rabbi Yisrael answered, “This road leads to Jerusalem. What a magnificent caravan.”

“Magnificent?” he snorted, “It’s only trouble. I’ve been carrying flour for weeks, but no one buys it. I just want to get home.”

“Flour?” Rabbi Yisrael answered, “I would gladly buy it all, only I don’t have the money. Our holiday of Pesach is just three days away and we need flour to bake matza.”

“Maybe we can help each other,” the merchant suggested. “What if I give you the flour now, and you pay me back when I return here in a month.” Rabbi Yisrael quickly agreed, and the Jews of Jerusalem had matza for Pesach. During Hol HaMo’ed he wrote letters to the Diaspora describing what happened and asking for help to pay for the flour. In just a few weeks there was enough money to pay for it all, but the merchant never showed up, so Rabbi Yisrael put the money in a bank. A year went by, and then another, but the merchant never returned. After a few years, the sum in the bank doubled and tripled. No one could touch it though, because it belonged to the Arab merchant.

Many years later, when Rabbi Yisrael was dying, he told his son what to do: “Wait ten more years for the merchant to return. If he does come back, you must pay him for the flour, but if he doesn’t, you must take the money and share it among the poor people of Jerusalem before their holidays. This way, everyone will benefit from the merchant’s kindness.”

Ten years later, Rabbi Yisrael’s son took some of the money to buy food and clothing for the poor people of Jerusalem. He did that before every holiday for many years.