The Aisel Harif and the Pesach Problem

The story is told about a wealthy Jew who lived in the city of Slonim, located in a region which at the time was part of the Russian Empire. This man, Reb Hershel, quite suddenly lost all his worldly possessions. Although the holiday of Pesach was quickly approaching, he did not request to receive food from the Kimcha D’Pischa charity funds that the community provides to sustain those in need during the holiday, nor did he tell anyone about his terrible financial woes. He and his family had no money for the special foods to celebrate the Pesach seder, nor even the bare minimum to eat throughout the holiday. He was ashamed, and worried that his poverty would diminish the high regard others in his community had for him.

Finally, however, just before the holiday was to begin, he confessed his situation to his next door neighbor.

The neighbor hurried to inform the Chief Rabbi of Slonim, Rabbi Yehoshua Yitzchak Shapira, known as the “Aisel Harif.” “It’s only a few hours before Pesach begins. What can we do to help Reb Hershel now?” he asked.

Rabbi Shapira thought for a moment, then responded confidently, “Tell him that tonight, after we have finished the evening prayers, when everyone lines up to shake my hand and wish me a happy Pesach, he should lean over and whisper his holiday greeting directly into my ear.”

“But rabbi,” the man protested, “How will that help him?”

Rabbi Shapira was insistent. “Don’t ask questions now, because we don’t have a lot of time. Just do as I told you!”

At the end of the holiday prayer service, as the community thronged around the rabbi to wish him a happy holiday, the Aisel Harif scanned the crowd until he saw the unfortunate man. Rabbi Shapira spoke to those surrounding them, “You’ll excuse me, please, rabboysai, I see that Reb Hershel has something important to tell me.”

Rabbi Shapira hurried over to Reb Hershel and inclined his ear so that he was almost brushing against Reb Hershel’s beard. As Reb Hershel quietly wished the rabbi a gut yontif, a happy holiday, Rabbi Shapira exclaimed loudly, “Oy vavoy! What is that you tell me? Reb Hershel, you need to know, all the food you’ve made for leil haseder and for the whole yontif, it’s all chumetz. You can’t eat any of it on Pesach.”

Before anyone could utter a word, Rabbi Shapira continued. “But Reb Hershel, it’s not like you are wandering in the desert. You’re amongst your own people, bnei Yisroel. I’m certain that there are gentlemen here who have more food than they need for the holiday.

Surely they won’t let you and your family go hungry on Pesach.”

Immediately a murmur arose throughout the house of prayer. It was whispered from one man to the next, told by the butcher to the dairyman, the melamed to the merchant. “The rabbi decrees that all that Reb Hershel prepared for Pesach is chumetz.”

And then a voice called out from one corner, “You should see the size of the fish I bought in the market. We’ll never eat all of it.”

And from near the bima, the dais from where prayers are recited, “My Hodel always makes more meat than we can finish. It would be a shame for it to go to waste.”

“It’s only me and my wife at the seder tonight, we have matza and wine to spare.”

Within minutes a stream of visitors stood outside Reb Hershel’s door, this one bearing wine and matzas, that one with a pan of warm brisket, the next bringing gefilte fish, one holding a big tray of potato kugel, a carrot tsimmes, a Pesach cake…

Not only did Rabbi Shapira’s quick thinking prevent Reb Hershel and his family from going hungry at the seder that night, it provided them with food the whole holiday long.

This story no. 13014 is from the collection of the Israel Folktale Archives named in honor of Dov Noy (IFA) at the University of Haifa. The story was told by Esther Baroshi, from Poland, and recorded by Malka Cohen. As translated from the Hebrew and retold by Jen Sundick.