WHEN THE BISHOP CAME
Reb Noach was a devoted chassid of the Baal Shem Tov.
Although he was married for many years, he still had no children.
Periodically, he would ask the Baal Shem Tov to pray for him that
he should be blessed to have a healthy child. The Baal Shem Tov, however,
never responded to his requests, but would always shift the conversation
to some other topic.
One day, much to R. Noach's surprise, the Baal Shem Tov called him
aside. "Know," said the Rebbe, "that this is a propitious
moment. Right now I can effectively pray in your behalf that Heaven
will grant you a son. But before I do so, I am obligated to inform
you that there is a condition you must agree to fulfill.
"For the first six years of his life, you must never leave him
unattended, even for a single moment. Twenty-four hours a day, seven
days a week, he must never be alone. Do you accept this?"
Beads of sweat popped out on R. Noach's forehead. He was so overjoyed
and excited that after these many years of anxious expectation he
would finally be a father, thank G-d. On the other hand, could he
really guarantee that he would be able to maintain the vigilance that
the Baal Shem Tov was demanding?
For a few moments he stood silently, deep in thought. Finally, he
raised his eyes, looked directly at the Baal Shem Tov, and exclaimed,
"I accept! I accept! I take upon myself to do exactly what you
said. I so much want to have a son I will agree to any price
and any condition."
The Baal Shem Tov was pleased with his chasid's reply. He promised
him that, with G-d's help, within a year's time he and his wife would
be blessed with offspring.
Before the year was up, a son was born to the delighted couple. It
goes without saying that R. Noach did not forget the condition that
the Baal Shem Tov had put upon him, and he saw to it that there was
constant around-the-clock supervision for the new baby. His wife,
of course, was happy to spend as much time with the child as she could.
A part of the time, he himself watched him. For the remaining few
hours of the twenty-four, a babysitter was hired.
After the initial excitement, life continued uneventfully for four
years. Then, one day, the circus came to town. A big one! As it paraded
through the town with enormous fanfare, excitement grew and spread
as more and more people joined the entourage. The babysitter, who
was on duty then, became very curious. Why was there such a huge crowd
of people gathered together in the middle of the day, and where were
they going? And what were all those unusual loud noises?
She decided to go out to the street and investigate. "I'll go
just for a minute and come right back," she said to herself.
And so she did. When she re-entered the house a few minutes later,
her heart pounded furiously. The little boy was nowhere to be seen.
Where could he have gone to in such a brief interlude? In a panic,
she searched the whole house. The child was not there!
The alarm was spread urgently throughout the Jewish community, but
nobody was able to find the missing child. R. Noach felt as if the
weight of the whole world had collapsed on him. As if in a daze, he
staggered around the streets of the town, poking into every nook and
alley with the light of a candle, helplessly searching.
He wanted to run for help to his great Rebbe, but the Baal Shem Tov
had already passed from the world. He didn't know where to turn. In
the end, he decided he would go and consult with Udel, the
Baal Shem Tov's daughter. Perhaps she could help him.
Udel listened to his whole story, and then said that she would go
to pray at her holy father's resting place. After that, she would
be able to advise him what to do.
When she returned from the cemetery, she sent for R. Noach and told
him, "Father said that you should leave town to search, and that
you should proceed towards the south. Don't stay more than one night
in any place, and wherever you go, enquire of the local inhabitants
about your son. And may G-d help you."
As soon as he heard her words, R. Noach sped home, He hurriedly packed
a small suitcase with his tallit and tefilin and a few
other necessary items, and set out on the road.
Days went by. He passed through many towns and villages. At each
one he asked a number of the people who lived there if they had seen
his missing son.
Days turned into weeks. At the completion of the tenth week, before
he left the place he had slept in the night before, he asked the Jewish
innkeeper if he knew anything of a lost four-year-old boy. As usual,
he provided a detailed description.
Upon hearing the details of the missing child's appearance, the host's
eyebrows lifted in surprise. "How amazing!" he exclaimed.
"Your description fits closely the little boy that our poritz
adopted recently. This squire, who owns everything around here, has
never had children of his own, and only a few weeks ago he brought
home a young lad to raise as his son. Rumor has it that it is a Jewish
boy, so it is quite possible that he is your missing child."
R. Noach felt his heart skip a beat. This was the first time in his
long journey that he had uncovered the slightest possible clue to
his son's mysterious disappearance. With tear-brimmed eyes, he begged
the innkeeper to help him recover his only child.
The innkeeper didn't know what to say. Of course he wanted to help
the poor suffering Jew in front of him. But what could he do? The
poritz ruled over the entire area. Everyone, including the
police, feared him and jumped to his every whim.
After some thought, the innkeeper said slowly to R. Noach, "I
don't see how I can help you, but this I will do. I'll go to the poritz's
mansion and try to find out some more details about the little boy
there. Maybe something will come out of it that will be the key for
salvation."
The innkeeper kept his word. He was gone for several hours. Immediately
upon his return, he signaled R. Noach that he wanted to speak to him
privately. "I can tell you for sure," he informed him, "that
the boy the poritz has adopted is definitely your missing son.
Another thing I can tell you is that the archbishop of this entire
region has been invited to conduct the baptism into Christianity of
the lad, and that he will arrive tomorrow," he added sorrowfully.
"An open invitation has been issued for everyone in the poritz's
jurisdiction to attend the ceremony and the following festivities."
R. Noach's face turned white. In the midst of heart-rending sobs,
he fell to his knees and cried out to the innkeeper, "You must
help me to save my son. You must! I don't know how, but since you
were the one to find out that my son is alive and the facts of his
captivity, it must be that you are Heaven's appointed agent to affect
his deliverance and bring him back to me. Please, please. Help me!"
The innkeeper's face turned serious as he tried to think of some
way he could help his desperate guest. After a few moments of introspection,
he said to R. Noach, "Look. An idea popped into my head when
you said I must be Heaven's agent to help you. But it is bizarre,
maybe even crazy. However, I can't seem to come up with any sensible,
logical idea that is practical."
"So, nu? What is it already?" R. Noach urged.
The innkeeper shrugged. "I've heard that the archbishop is a
decent, kindhearted man. Perhaps you can work it out to encounter
him before he gets to the poritz's house and tell him the whole
story of your lost child. It is certainly in his power to help you.
Who knows? Maybe he will. I suggest you wait for him at the outskirts
of town."
R. Noach decided to try it. He rose early the following morning and
went quickly to take up a position outside of the town gate. There
he waited for several hours, excited and nervous. Finally, in the
distance, he was able to make out a cloud of dust, and the bishop's
magnificent carriage slowly became visible.
When it rolled up near him, R. Noach threw himself down on the street
to make sure the carriage would not pass him. At the last moment the
driver realized someone was lying in his path, and strained to bring
the horses to a halt, succeeding with only inches to spare. Immediately,
R. Noach jumped up and ran over to the side where the bishop was sitting,
and in an emotion-charged voice poured out his whole story. The bishop
gave him his full attention. When R. Noach finished, the bishop answered
that he would try to help him to recover his lost son. He told him
to go to the entrance of the poritz's property and to wait
for him there, and to make sure that he had a carriage ready for immediate
departure.
R. Noach hurried to do as the bishop had instructed him. In the meantime,
the house of the poritz was already jammed to overflowing with
people from the area, all eagerly anticipating the baptism ceremony
for the adopted boy. The poritz stood out in the front yard,
holding the boy's hand, anxiously awaiting the bishop's arrival.
When the bishop came onto his grounds, the poritz greeted
him heartily, his face lit up with a happy beaming smile. The bishop
strode over to him, and to the astonishment of the watching crowd
and the dismay of the poritz, screamed at him harshly:
"Fool! What an imbecile you are! Do you really think that with
this boy you've found someone to inherit you and preserve your name
after you die? Don't you realize that a Jewish boy will never never
be loyal to you?"
The poritz was incredulous. How could the bishop say such
things? And why was he so upset? The poritz remained silent,
but the bishop could sense that he was skeptical of his words.
"I'll prove to you that what I said is true," offered the
bishop. "The boy has already been with you for several weeks,
right? You've showered him with affection and all the presents in
the world he could want, right? Well, I'm telling you that the moment
he spots a Jew, one of his people, he'll abandon you instantly and
run off with that Jew. Come, let's experiment; you'll soon see what
I mean."
As he spoke, the bishop started moving towards the front gate of
the poritz's property. The stunned poritz stumbled after
him, still clutching the little boy's hand, half dragging-half carrying
him along. After them streamed the rest of the entire crowd, abuzz
with shock and confusion.
As they approached the gate, the bishop commanded the poritz
to release the child's hand and let him stand unaided. The boy looked
up, and saw his father standing just outside the gate. The moment
he regained his balance, he ran with all his might through the gate
and jumped into his father's arms.
Without even glancing at the poritz, the bishop turned toward
the man nestling the child and called out, "Get out of here.
Quickly! Don't you dare show your face around here again."
R. Noach loaded the child into the waiting carriage, and ordered
the driver to speed away from there as fast as he possibly could.
After reaching home safely and sharing in the joyful, tear-filled
reunion of the boy and his mother, R. Noach felt obligated to go visit
the Baal Shem Tov's daughter, to inform her of the amazing rescue
and recovery of his son that had come about through her. As soon as
he crossed the threshold of her house, she called out to him, "You
should know that Father had to leave his place in Paradise to return
to this world and take up the guise of that bishop, solely in order
to restore your son to you."
After several days, R. Noach thought he should write a letter to
the innkeeper, thanking him for all his help. Several weeks later
he received a reply. In it the innkeeper had written:
"There was an extraordinary occurrence the day after you left.
The archbishop came again to the house of the poritz. He apologized
for arriving a day late, due to unforeseen difficulties on the road,
and then said, 'Now let's baptize the boy you've taken in.'
"The poritz was taken aback, as you might imagine. He
reminded the bishop that he himself he voided the ceremony the day
before.
"'What are you talking about?' retorted the bishop. 'I only
came just now. I was never here before. If someone tried to prevent
the baptism, it certainly wasn't me. And how could you think I would
pass up such an opportunity anyway?'
"The bishop was so insistent that the poritz was compelled
to summon several eye-witnesses to the previous day's events. Still,
the bishop, who was known to be a reasonable and intelligent person,
refused to admit that he had any part in what all the townspeople
had seen with their own eyes.
"The episode remains a sealed mystery to the multitudes that
were present that day. Now, weeks afterward, no one is prepared to
say with certainty exactly what it is that happened."
[Translated and freely adapted by Yrachmiel Tilles (and first published
in Kfar Chabad Magazine - English) from Shemu Vitachi Nafshechem
#261. You may distribute this e-mail as long as full attribution is
given, including Ascent's email and internet addresses, as in the
heading.]
