One day while the old man was pouring off vinegar the can burst. Whether he sold any more vinegar I never knew. But I heard that he went to the image of that man and took a stone to break open the charity box and take out his money. I also heard that on the same day Roman priests came to open the charity box and found him standing over the charity box with the stone in his hand. They seized him and put him in prison. No sooner had they seized him and put him in prison than the whole town was seething like hell. Some said, “The world is going to the dogs and there is no more faith,” and others said, “The tradesman is but a product of his trade. For as vinegar is none other than fermented wine, so has this old man shown himself to be wicked.” The former and the latter all ashamed sighed ruefully at such sacrilege, saying, “Oh, what an unworthy son born of a worthy father.” The old man sat in jail chained in irons. But his wrists were thin and the irons did not press on them. When God brings an affliction upon a man, God relieves the bitterness so that he might cope with the suffering. The old man sat in jail and shook his chains, and hordes of bugs and the like went scurrying. He was afraid to lie on the floor. He put his head between his knees like the early mystics until he was brought before the judge.
The judge asked him, “Do you admit that you were about to open the charity box?” The old man replied, “I was about to open the box because the money…” Before he could finish what he was saying, the judge said to him reproachfully, “Does the accused admit that he wanted to open the box?” The old man wanted to explain to him that whatever he had done he had done lawfully, since the money in the box was his and a man cannot be guilty of stealing his own money. But the presumption in that jurisdiction was that the more one spoke the truth the more was he deemed to be lying. The judge called the witnesses. The priests came forward, each one in turn taking out his cross from under his vestments and kissing it, and testifying that on said day of said month at said hour they were about to open said box when they found a Jew with a stone in his hand about to smash the box. The judge then asked the witnesses, “Do you recognize this old man as the one who was about to smash the box?” And they repeated after him, “We testify on our oath against this old man that he was about to smash the box.” The man was taken aback that men of such high order should take the oath where it is not required. He shook his hands and his chains rattled, making a loud noise. The judge turned to him and said, “Are you inferring that these high-ranking witnesses have perjured against you?” God forbid! It had never occurred to the old man to say so. It was true that he was about to open the box. And what did this judge see to indicate that he was lying? But he would not lie, all he wanted was his money back. He was chained hand and foot with chains of iron and he was incriminated out of his own mouth. But he was still well served by his eyes, which he raised and looked into the judge’s and witnesses’ faces. A weird state of affairs: all speak the truth and the truth gives rise to a miscarriage of justice. With one eye on his chains, the old man looked with his other eye about their heads. He saw the image of that man hanging on the courtroom wall and said to himself, You smile at me. He began rapping on the table with both hands until the sound of his chains was heard from one end of the building to the other, and cried out, “Leave me alone and give me back my money.” But they beat him and put him back in jail.
The old man sat on the straw and complained, “O God, it was plain for You to see how many years I have had to contend with this exile; I ate no good food, I wore no fine clothes, and I occupied no fine lodgings. All my years were sour to me as vinegar, and I accepted it all lovingly solely because I was to go up to Your Holy Land. And now that my time has come to go up, my captors have come and taken my money and put me in jail.” So he sat and cried until he dozed off in the midst of his crying. At midnight he woke of his own accord. In the room of the jail there was no mezuzah and no can. He began shaking his chains and chanting in a sad voice some songs and praises which he was used to singing at night; and so he went on chanting until he fell asleep again. The jail door opened, and there appeared some apparition of a man with a stone box in his hand and a certain smile on his lips. The old man turned his eyes away from him and tried to fall asleep. That man put him on his feet and said, “Hold on to me and I will bring you to wherever you wish to go.” The old man extended his arms toward that man and said, “How shall I hold on to you when my hands are in chains of iron?” And the latter replied, “Regardless thereof you shall.” The old man opened wide the palms of his hand and clasped them around the neck of that man who smiled and said, “I shall promptly bring you to the Land of Israel.” The old man embraced the neck of that man as the latter turned and faced in the direction of Jerusalem. On their first flight that man stopped smiling. On their second flight the old man’s fingers turned cold. On their third flight he felt that he was embracing cold stone. His heart melted and his hands waxed weak. He was set loose and fell to the ground. On the morrow when his captors came in, he was not to be found.
That night a knocking was heard on the door of the Kolel in Jerusalem. Those who went outdoors saw a flight of angels which had come from the exile bearing a mortal form, which that very night they took and buried, in keeping with the custom in Jerusalem not to hold over the dead.
The Lady and the Peddler
A certain Jewish peddler was traveling with his stock from town to town and village to village. One day he found himself in a wooded region far from any settlement. He saw a lone house. He approached it and, standing before the door, he cried out his wares. A lady came outside and spoke to him. “What do you want here, Jew?” Bowing, he wished her well and said, “Perhaps you can use something of these lovely things I have?” He took his pack off his back and offered her all sorts of goods. “I have no use for you or your wares,” she said to him.
“But look and see, perhaps even so? Here are ribbons and rings and kerchiefs and sheets and soap and fine perfumes that the noblewomen use.” She looked at his pack for a few moments, then averted her eyes from him. “There’s nothing here. Get out!” Again he bowed before her and took things out of the pack to offer to her. “Just look, my lady, and don’t say there’s nothing here. Perhaps you might want this, or perhaps this lovely piece of goods pleases you. Please, my lady, look and see.” The lady saw a hunting knife. She paid him for it and went back into her house. He put his pack on his shoulders and went on his way.
By that time, the sun had already set and he could no longer make out the road. He walked on, and on again farther, weaving his way in among trees and out and in among them once more. Darkness covered the earth and no moon shone in the sky. He looked all around and began to be afraid. Then he saw a light shining. He walked toward the light until he arrived at a house. He knocked on the door. The mistress of the house peered out at him and shouted, “Are you here again? What do you want, Jew?”
“Since I left you, I’ve been wandering in the darkness and I can’t find any town.”