Translation:Kokhavei Ohr

by Abraham Chazan ben Nachman of Tulchyn

Sections according to Machon Bashan edition

Wondrous Stories of Rabbeinu Z"L

Behold, I found these written in a certain volume that was in the possession of Rabbi Naftali, of blessed memory

The common custom of spitting to ward off the evil eye

...is hinted at in the words of our Sages, of blessed memory, regarding Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah: Where did they go? One said they died from the evil eye, and another said they drowned in lightning. This hints at the idea that they feared the evil eye; someone spat at them, and they died by lightning.

He boasts in blasphemy, for he blasphemed the hosts of the living God...

...But David was not afraid of him at all and said that he had already had an encounter with a lion and grabbed it by its beard — “the lion came… and I grabbed it by its beard, struck it, and killed it.” So too shall it be.

Stories written in a book that R' Naftali had:

#4 The Downpour, Varda, Bitter Herbs, The Treasure Under the Bridge, The Turkey Prince, The Tainted Grain, The King and the Deer, The King and the Reapers, Sefer Elim, Maharsha 1-3, Blind Musician, Tende-Rende Priest's Clothes

The Downpour (aka The Villager, or The Story of a King Who Went Hunting/Trapping)

A king once went out hunting. He dressed in regular clothes so that he would feel more comfortable. Suddenly, heavy rain began to fall - literally a flood of rain. All of the ministers scattered for shelter, leaving the king in great danger. He searched until he found a little house in which dwelt a simple villager. The villager took the king in, gave him fresh clothes, and shared his food with him – groats and the like. He heated the oven and let the king sleep on some straw. It was surprisingly pleasant and sweet for the king. He had never experienced such sweetness, since he had been so tired and exhausted.

Meanwhile, the ministers searched for the king until they found him sleeping. They wanted to bring him back to the palace, but he told them, “Since you did not save me, rather each one of you ran to save himself, whereas this man saved me, and I have had such a pleasant experience here, therefore, he will bring me back in his buggy, with these clothes that he has given me, and he will sit next to me when I am on my throne.”

The Rebbe concluded by saying, “There is a tradition that before the Messiah will come, there will be a flood. This will not be a flood of water, but of heresy that will cover the tallest mountains. Even in the Land of Israel, where the waters of Noah’s Flood did not directly fall, the rain waters will splash into it due to the force of the downpour. In other words, heresy will ‘splash’ even into ‘kosher’ hearts, and there will be no way to protect oneself from it. Even all the ‘royal ministers’ will scatter and the very kingdom will shake. Only the simple Jews who recite Psalms with simplicity will survive, and when the Messiah will appear, they will be the ones to place the royal crown on his head.”

The Rose

Rabbeinu z”l told a story of a man who traveled with a wagon driver (to Berlin or another large city). The man went to take care of his needs, leaving the wagon driver, named Ivan (a coarse man without sensitivity), with the wagon in the middle of the market. A soldier approached and asked why he was standing there. The driver replied, “Verda,” thinking he was being asked his name and answered “Ivan.” The soldier struck him and repeated “Verda,” and the driver kept shouting “Ivan,” receiving more blows. This continued until they moved the wagon to a side street.

When the man returned and found him, Ivan whispered fearfully, “Don’t say Ivan, say Verda.” Once they left the city, he said, “Now you can call me Ivan again. Here I’m called Verda, and there I’m Ivan.” Rabbeinu concluded: “With me, it is Verda,” meaning “Who is it?”—one who knows his lowliness and has refined his body (the Ivan). When one leaves the city, he returns to being Ivan. The material remains material.

The Bitter Herb

Rabbeinu z”l told a story of a Jew and a German who traveled together. The Jew taught the German to act like a Jew, assuring him it would be easy since they spoke the same language and Jews are compassionate. Near Passover, he taught him how to behave at the Seder: first Kiddush, then washing hands—but forgot to mention the bitter herb (maror).

The German, hungry all day, was invited to a Seder. He eagerly awaited the meal, but was given parsley in salt water and other symbolic foods. When they broke the matzah, he rejoiced, thinking the meal was near. Suddenly, he was given maror. Its bitterness shocked him, and thinking this was the entire meal, he fled in anger and hunger, cursing the Jews.

Later, the Jew returned from the Seder full and happy. When he asked the German how it went, the German angrily recounted the experience. The Jew replied, “Oh foolish German! If you had waited just a bit longer, you would have enjoyed all the good food like me.”

Rabbeinu explained: the body’s refinement comes through bitterness. People think the bitterness will last forever and flee. But if one endures a little, they will later feel all kinds of vitality and delight.

The Treasure Under the Bridge

A man from a city near Vienna dreamed that a treasure lay beneath a bridge in Vienna. He traveled there and stood by the bridge, unsure how to proceed due to the crowds. A soldier asked what he was doing. Thinking to enlist his help, he told him the dream.

The soldier laughed and said, “Oh Jew, you believe in dreams? I too dreamed that in a certain city, in a certain house (naming the man’s own city and name), there’s a treasure under the stove. Should I go there?”

The man returned home, dug under his stove, and found the treasure. He later said, “Now I know—the treasure is with me, but to discover it, I had to travel to Vienna.”

So too in serving God: the treasure lies within each person, but to recognize it, one must journey to the tzaddik (righteous one).

The Turkey Prince

A prince fell into madness, believing he was a turkey (hindik). He sat naked under the table, pecking at crumbs and bones. All doctors failed to cure him. The king was in great distress.

A wise man came and said he could heal him. He too undressed and sat under the table, mimicking the prince. When asked who he was, he replied, “I’m a turkey too.” They became accustomed to each other.

The wise man then had shirts thrown under the table and said, “You think a turkey can’t wear a shirt? One can wear a shirt and still be a turkey.” They dressed. Then came pants, then human food, and finally, he said, “You think a turkey must sit under the table? One can be a turkey and sit at the table.” Gradually, he restored the prince to sanity.

The moral: a person may be immersed in materialism (a turkey), but through gradual steps, can draw close to divine service. So too in bringing others closer—step by step.

The Grain

Once, the king said to his beloved second-in-command: “Since I am an astrologer, I see in the stars that all the grain that will grow this year—whoever eats from it will become insane. So, let us devise a plan.”

The advisor replied: “Then let us prepare grain for ourselves in advance, so we won’t need to eat from the grain that causes madness.”

But the king answered: “If only we are sane and the entire world is mad, then we will be the ones considered mad. (And it is impossible to prepare enough for everyone.) Therefore, we too must eat from the grain. But let us do one thing: we will mark a sign on our foreheads, so that at the very least, we will know that we are mad. When I look at your forehead, and you look at mine, we will remember through the sign that we are not truly sane.”

The King and the Deer

There was a king who chased after a deer but could not catch it. His ministers stopped and said: "Our lord the king, let us turn back."

But the king replied: "I must catch the deer. Whoever wishes to turn back may do so — but I will continue the chase."

The King and the Reapers

v.1 (By User:BreslovJoy)

There was once an astrologer king who saw in the stars that if the grain would not be harvested by a certain time, it would all spoil.

Being that time was short, he decided to hire workers and provide them with all their pleasures and needs so that they would be free to work day and night to finish harvesting before the deadline.

However, the workers enjoyed the pleasures and forgot about the task. The deadline passed and all the grain spoiled. Now what would they do?! The king would certainly be enraged with them.

A sage came along and advised them that the king loves a certain bird. If they would bring the king this bird, the king would be so delighted that he would forgive them for everything.

But catching this bird was very difficult since it lived very high up and they had no ladder and time was short. So again the sage advised them that since they were many, each one should stand on the other’s shoulders until they could reach the bird. But they argued among themselves, for each one wanted to be higher up on the human ladder. They wasted time arguing and the bird flew away. As a result, the king was enraged with them for their negligence in harvesting the grain.

The moral of the story is that G-d created man and provided him with all pleasures, with the intention that he would “harvest the grain” before he violated the Covenant, so that he would be able to serve G-d with a pure mind. However, man is negligent on account of his pleasures, and allows the “grain” to spoil and his mind to become sullied from sin.

But all is not lost, for there is the bird, which represents the tzaddik, through whom forgiveness for everything can be attained. Yet, on account of dispute and jealousy – each one wanting to be higher up – people remain distant from the tzaddik.

v.2 (AI) Rabbeinu z”l told of a king who foresaw that if the grain wasn’t harvested by a certain time, it would spoil. He hired reapers and gave them every pleasure to keep them working day and night. But they indulged and forgot the task. The grain spoiled.

A wise man said the king loved a certain bird. If they brought it, the king would be appeased. But the bird was high in the air, and they had no ladder. The sage advised them to stand one atop another to reach it. But they quarreled—each wanted to be on top. The bird flew away, and the king remained angry.

The meaning: God gave man pleasures to serve Him with pure thoughts. But man indulges and spoils the “grain” (his mind). The tzaddik (the bird) could help, but due to jealousy and division, people fail to connect to him.

The Book of the Mighty (Sefer Elim)

In a hidden scroll, it is told of a precious book, Sefer Elim, written by the holy Rabbi Yosef Kandia z”l. In his time, 500 students gathered to study philosophy and Moreh Nevuchim (Guide for the Perplexed), and they became heretics, denying divine providence.

They came to Rabbi Yosef to convince him. He was horrified and asked for time. He summoned great rabbis, and they all fasted and prayed. Rabbi Yosef lay on the ground for three days without food or drink.

After three days, he rose and said, “It is time to act for God—they have voided Your Torah.” He took a pen and wrote without pause, eating or praying, until he completed Sefer Elim. When the students returned, he gave them the book. Through it, he defeated their arguments, and they all became righteous.

First Story of the Maharsha

The Maharsha z”l was a rabbi in a certain community and would study Torah with his yeshiva all day. At that time, there was a Chief Rabbi of the Province who held authority over the Maharsha’s region. It was customary for all rabbis under his jurisdiction to visit him and receive his permission to serve, as was the practice in earlier generations.

All the rabbis came to greet the Chief Rabbi—except the Maharsha, who remained immersed in study. The Chief Rabbi judged him favorably, assuming he was too engrossed in learning to come.

Eventually, the Chief Rabbi traveled to the Maharsha’s town. The entire city came out to greet him, but the Maharsha still did not go. Again, the Chief Rabbi judged him favorably, attributing it to his dedication to Torah.

The Chief Rabbi then went to the synagogue where the Maharsha was learning with his students. The Maharsha did not rise, greet him, or interrupt his learning. Still, the Chief Rabbi gave him the benefit of the doubt.

Suddenly, a handsome young man entered the synagogue. The Maharsha immediately stood up, honored him, and spoke with him at length. The Chief Rabbi became furious and rebuked the Maharsha: “At first, I excused your absence. Then I came to you, and you still didn’t greet me. Even in the synagogue, you ignored me. But now I see it was false humility—you honored this young man in the middle of your learning!”

The Maharsha replied, “As a sign and proof: this young man will die within two hours.”

The Chief Rabbi didn’t believe him and took the young man with him, speaking with him constantly to keep him in sight. As they walked through the city, a nobleman passed by, casually aiming his rifle at birds. A stray bullet struck and killed the young man—exactly two hours later.

The Chief Rabbi ran back to the Maharsha, who said, “Soon they will bring a corpse here.” Moments later, news arrived of the death.

The Maharsha explained: “This young man was a reincarnation of King Ahab of Israel. Because Ahab was killed, this soul had to die as well. The moment he was born, a destructive angel was created to kill him. That angel waited near this city for the appointed time. Because you delayed him, the angel had to take another soul in his place—the one who was killed instead. Therefore, you must repent, for your delay caused another’s death.”

The Chief Rabbi fell at the Maharsha’s feet, begging forgiveness. The Maharsha told him: “Your repentance is to remove your rabbinic crown and become a wagon driver.” He accepted and became a wagon driver. And the word of our God shall stand forever.

Second Story of the Maharsha

In the town of Ostroh, where the Maharsha lived, there was a place of impurity for non-Jews. When Jews had to pass through with a deceased person (as there was no other route), the gentiles would ring bells and perform rituals. Everyone who passed through would eventually convert, God forbid.

The Maharsha instructed that when a deceased Jew was carried through that place, they should place his own Torah commentary on the bier. They did so.

As the priests gathered and began their rituals, the Maharsha appeared, seated and flipping through the pages of his book. The impurity and the people involved began to sink into the earth and were swallowed. To this day, there remains a mark on the ground where they were swallowed.

Third Story of the Maharsha

When the synagogue in Ostroh was being built, a large sum of money was needed. A public ceremony was held for laying the cornerstone, and it was auctioned off. A wealthy man bought the honor for a bag full of gold coins and asked the Maharsha to lay the stone.

The Maharsha agreed, but told the man to request something in return. The man asked to have a son like the Maharsha. The Maharsha warned him that this was a difficult request and suggested asking for something else. But the man insisted.

The Maharsha said, “Then when your wife conceives, you will die. And when she gives birth, she will die. I will raise the child myself.” The man agreed.

So it was: he died when his wife conceived, and she died in childbirth. The Maharsha raised the child, who remained hidden and showed no signs of greatness.

Before the Maharsha passed away, he instructed that this child would succeed him. So it was.

This new rabbi never attended the funerals of the town’s dignitaries, which upset the community. When questioned, he told his assistant to call him only when a truly important person died.

Eventually, a prominent community member passed away. The rabbi came, spread a cloth over the bier, and everyone saw destructive angels snatch the soul from the body. He said, “If this is your idea of an important person, why should I attend their funerals?”

From then on, the community recognized his greatness and accepted him as the rightful successor to the Maharsha.

The Blind Musician

Rabbeinu z”l told a story from the time of the Baal Shem Tov z”l about a musician (a klezmer) who was blind. He would play at weddings, and this was his livelihood. After his passing, it was discovered that he had not been blind at all—he had perfectly good eyes. He had only pretended to be blind his entire life so that he would not gaze upon women. The entire world had believed he was blind.

There was also a wealthy man known to be extremely stingy—he wouldn’t even give a slice of bread to charity. He was despised by all for his miserliness. At the same time, there was another man known for his great generosity, who supported all the poor with food, drink, and all their needs.

When the stingy man died, everyone scorned him. But the next day, when the poor came to the generous man for support, he told them he had nothing to give. All the charity he had distributed until then had actually come from the so-called stingy man. He had only served as a channel to distribute the funds, so that the mitzvah would be done purely, without seeking honor or recognition.

Now that the wealthy man had died, there was no more money to give. Only then did everyone realize his greatness.

The Baal Shem Tov z”l said: both the blind musician and the “stingy” wealthy man were on the same spiritual level. Fortunate are they.

The Priest’s Robe (Tenda u-Renda)

Rabbeinu z”l told a story of a rabbi who went to collect charity (for redeeming captives or marrying off an orphaned bride). He needed several gold coins and approached a wealthy man for help.

The wealthy man agreed—on one condition: the rabbi must wear a tenda u-renda (a priest’s robe) and walk through every street of the city dressed in it. The rabbi agreed, did so, and received the full amount needed for the mitzvah.

Afterward, he asked the wealthy man to give him the robe as a gift, and he agreed.

Before the rabbi passed away, he instructed that his burial shrouds be made from that robe. So it was done. However, a small piece of his leg was not covered by the robe, and that part was wrapped in a different material.

Years later, for some reason, his grave had to be exhumed. They found his body completely intact—untouched by decay—except for the small part of the leg not wrapped in the robe.

This story was told by one of our fellow Hasidim, Rabbi Pinchas of Kiblitz, in the name of Rabbeinu z”l. Rabbi Avraham z”l said that although he had not heard it from his father, Rabbi Nachman of Tulchin z”l, since Rabbi Pinchas told it, it must be true.

R' Avraham's Parables of the World's Nonsense and True Purpose

Perush Shomer, Page 207 ?

At the time that there was dispute on Rabi Natan, they gave him encouragement so that he would not fall in his da`at/state of mind, and they told him some worldly story: That there was a doctor, and he had an assistant. As time went by, the masses began to make more of a matter and fame of the assistant than of the doctor, until he became more known and honored in the world. And once the King made a meal, and everyone sat according to his honor, and the studnet sat first, and afterwards the doctor. The doctor answered and said, "But look! You indeed know the difference between me and you!" He (Rabi Natan) replied and said to him, "Do not despair and do not be weakened in your mind, for this is the way of the world, that in each generation ninety-eight percent do not know of the truth, and two percent know."

"The Guardian of Truth Forever" — A Parable from Moharnat, of Blessed Memory

Moharnat (Rabbi Nathan of Breslov) once recounted how, during a time of intense controversy, falsehood had grown exceedingly strong and successful, while truth had been cast down so low that it was nearly impossible to believe in its existence. As the verse says, “And truth was cast to the ground” (Daniel 8:12). This deeply troubled him one morning before prayer, to the point that he could not pray as one should. In this state of spiritual constriction, he began to pray, and when he reached the Pesukei Dezimra (verses of praise), he was nearly in despair of ever attaining an expanded state of mind during that prayer.

However, when he reached the verse “He guards truth forever” (shomer emet le’olam), he suddenly experienced a flash of mental clarity and joy in his heart. He then explained the verse with a parable:

There was once a duke who had a magnificent garden in which grew every type of plant in the world—except for one rare species that had never been found in his garden, despite many years of searching. Eventually, he obtained a single seed of this rare plant and planted it in his garden. Because this seed was unique and precious, and because its successful growth was so delicate—requiring precise conditions and timing, and being vulnerable to birds and other threats—the duke appointed special guards to watch over it constantly, never taking their eyes off it for even a moment.

So too with truth, which is rare and precious and has been cast to the ground and subjected to many trials. But there is no need to fear for the truth, for the One who casts it down is also the One who guards it forever. His eyes are always upon it, until the time comes when “truth will sprout from the earth” (Psalms 85:12), grow, succeed, bear fruit, and “the lip of truth will be established forever” (Proverbs 12:19).

After this realization, his prayer became the prayer of the righteous—filled with joy, song, and gladness.

A Yiddish Saying from Moharnat

Someone once complained to Moharnat about their struggles in serving God. He comforted them with these words: “Just look at yourself—you’re already a fine Jew. And it’s certainly worth striving to become a truly noble Jew.”

He also said: “One must toil greatly in youth so that in old age, one can at least be a simple, honest Jew.”

Avaneiha Barzel

46

'When our late Rabbi was in the Land of Israel, he assured Rabbi Abraham of Kalisker that when he came out of the Land of Israel, he would go to the Rab of Liady, Rabbi Shneur Zalman, to speak with him about the the charity funds for the Land of Israel. 'בְעֵּת שֶהָיָה רַבֵּּנוּ זַ"ל בְּאֶרֶץ יִׂשרָאֵּל הִׂבְטִׂיחַ לְהָרַב ר' אַבְרָהָם ז"ל קַאלִׂיסְקֶער כִּׂי תֵּּכֶף כְּ שֶיָּבוֹא לְחוּץ לָאָרֶץ תֵּּכֶף יִׂסַּע אֶל הָרַב מִׂלַּאדִׂי הָרַב ר' שנֵּיאוֹר זַלְמָן לְדַבֵּּר עִׂמּוֹ בְּעִׂנְיַן מְעוֹת אֶרֶץ יִׂשרָאֵּל.

And it happened that when he came to his house, he would not descend from the chariot to sit in the house, but immediately he would go to the Rav of Liadi from his house. And when he came there, he spoke with two men about the subject of ChaBaD. And Rabbeinu ztzuk"l asked them to explain some matter to him. Later he [the Rav of Liadi] asked our Rabbi ztzuk"l to recite Torah before him, but he did not want.

וְקִׂיֵּּם זֹאת, כִּׂי בְּבֹאוֹ לְבֵּיתוֹ לֹא יָרַד מֵּעֲגָלָה לִׂכְנֹס לְבֵּיתו, אֶלָּא תֵּּכֶף נָסַע לְהָרַב מִׂלַּאדִׂי. וּבְבֹאוֹ לְשָם דִּׂבֵּּר עִׂם שנֵּי אֲנָשים שֶל הָרַב מֵּעִׂנְיַן חַב"ד. וְרַבֵּּנוּ זְצוּקַ"ל בִּׂקֵּּש מֵּהֶם שֶיְּפָרְ שוּ לוֹ אֵּיזֶה עִׂנְיָן. אַחַר־כָּךְ בִּׂקֵּּש אֶת רַבֵּּנוּ זְצוּקַ "ל לוֹמַר לְפָנָיו תּוֹרָה וְלֹא רָצָה.

So the Rav spoke Torah for eight hours. Rabbeinu ztzuk"l said, “In this matter he hit the mark (that is, aimed well), for having concluded with the verse (Ps. 119:56), “Great are Your mercies, Hashem,” (Upon you, O God, is great mercy.) Once, the Rav Ztuk"l was in Breslev with our Rabbi Ztuk"l when he was traveling to Medzhybuzh. And the controversy of R' Barukh ztzuk"l was over him. Then our Rabbi Ztzuk"l said to his followers regarding the Rav: 'Give honor to the commander of a thousand.'

וְאָמַר הָרַב תּוֹרָה בְּעֵּרֶךְ שמוֹנֶה שָעוֹת, וְאָמַר רַבֵּּנוּ זְצוּקַ"ל שֶבְּדבָר זֶה הָאט עֶר צוּ גִּׂיטְרָאפִׂין (הוּא כִּׂוֵּּן הֵּיטֵּיב) שֶסִּׂיֵּּם אָז עַל הַפָּסוּק "רַחֲמֶיךָ רַבִּׂים ה'", עֶס אִׂיז אוֹיף דִּׂיר גָּאט אַגְרוֹיְס רַחֲמָנוּת )זֶה עָלֶיךָ אֱלֹקִׂים רַחֲמָנוּת גְּדוֹלָה(. פַּעַם אַחַת הָיָה הָרַב זְצוּקַ "ל בִּׂבְרַסְלֶב אצֶל רַבֵּּנוּ זְצוּקַ"ל בְּעֵּת שֶנָּסַע לְמֶעזְבּוּז. וְאָז הָיָה עָלָיו הַמַּחֲלֹקֶת שֶל הָרַב ר' בָּרוּךְ זְצוּקַ"ל. וְאָז אָמַר רַבֵּּנוּ זְצוּקַ"ל לָאֲנָשים שֶלּוֹ עַל הָרַב: 'תְּנוּ כָּבוֹד לְשר אֶלֶף'.

And our Rabbi Ztuk"l asked the Rav, "Is it true what they say about you, that you have eighty thousand disciples? And the Rav answered him, "He has disciples who teach, and each one has charity collection for him, and the youths, after they give tzedakah for him, apparently do not oppose him." And the rabbi gave some excuse for himself before Rabbeinu ztzuk"l regarding the great Rav Baruch Ztzuk"l. Rabbeinu Ztzuk"l answered him, "Petersburg sends for you to come over. Fater Baruch (a pun: similar to "Peter Burg"), doesn't want you to come over.

וְשָאַל רַבֵּּנוּ זְצוּקַ"ל אֶת הָרַב הַאִׂם אֱמֶת מַה שֶאוֹמְרִׂים עֲלֵּיכֶם שֶיֵּּש לָכֶם שמוֹנִׂים אֶלֶף חֲסִׂידִׂים. וַיֹּאמֶר אֵּלָיו הָרַב, שֶיֵּּש לוֹ חֲסִׂידִׂים מְלַמְּדִׂים, וְכָל אֶחָד יֵּש לוֹ קֻּפָּה שֶל צְדָקָה בִּׂשבִׂילו, וְהַנְּעָרִׂים מֵּאַחַר שֶנּוֹתְנִׂים צְדָקָה בִּׂשבִׂילוֹ מִׂסְּתמָא לֹא יִׂהְיוּ מִׂתְנַגְּדִׂים עָלָיו. וְהָרַב הִׂתְנַצֵּּל אֶת עַצְמוֹ אָז לִׂפְנֵּי רַבֵּּנוּ זְצוּקַ "ל עַל הָרַב הָר' בָּרוּךְ זְצוּקַ "ל. וַיֹּאמֶר אֵּלָיו רַבֵּּנוּ זְצוּקַ"ל, פֶּעטֶערְבּוּרְג זֶענְט אִׂיהְר אִׂיבֶּער גִּׂיקוּמֶען, פֶעטֶער בָּרוּךְ וֶועט אִׂיהְר נִׂיט אִׂיבֶּער קוּמֶען וְכוּ' (פֶּעטֶערְבּוּרְג עֲבַרתֶּם אֲבָל פֶעטֶער־בָּרוּךְ [דּוֹד־בָּרוּךְ] אַתֶּם לֹא תַעֲבוֹרוּ):