Taken from the Hebrew Shomrei Hagachelet
Rebbetzin Beila Hinda Meltzer was extremely busy writing, as
usual. She was copying the chidushei Torah of her
esteemed husband, Hagaon Maran R' Isser Zalman Meltzer, Rosh
Yeshivas Etz Chaim in Yerusholayim.
She was so preoccupied that she was completely oblivious of
anything around her and was not even aware of the pouring
rain outdoors until it began to hail. At the pelting sound,
she raised her eyes from her writing and commented, "Oh, it's
only the weather. Hail! But so strong!"
She left the table where she was writing, went over to the
window and looked outside. The street was completely
deserted; there was not a soul in sight. Then she recalled
that her husband, the Rosh Yeshiva, was due to come home from
shul any minute. "How I wish this hail would stop so
that he could walk home safely and easily," she thought.
In addition to the hail, a fierce wind was blowing. Neither
man nor animal dared brave the street. "No wonder! In such
weather!"
Then down the road a beggar emerged, battling his way against
the strong wind. He was turning the corner and she couldn't
help feeling sorry for him. "Oh, dear! He's likely to get
sick. He is dressed in such thin tatters. He must be in great
need to be outdoors in such weather!" she couldn't help
thinking. As she stood watching him, she suddenly spied two
men walking right behind him. They, too, were struggling to
walk as fast as they could, but were impeded by the harsh
wind. It suddenly dawned upon her that these were none other
than her husband and his devoted disciple. It was obvious
from their bent postures that their progress was most
difficult.
"Why couldn't they wait till the hail stopped?" she wondered.
"Oh, Hashem, don't let him get sick!" she prayed. "Have
mercy! Oh, his poor, weakened lungs! He is so frail!"
Just then, she saw the beggar stop in his tracks and turning
around, stretch a hand out. "Tzedoka!' he pleaded.
She knew the Rov would not delay, and would begin searching
in his pockets, with frozen hands, for some coins. She knew
his way of giving tzedoka... She recalled that only
the day before, when a glass fell and broke to pieces, the
rov had commented, "Was there a beggar here whom you let go
emptyhanded?" It was not a question of refusing someone. Yes,
she admitted, there had been a poor man at the door but at
the time, she hadn't had anything to give him. "Well," he had
said, "that is the reason for the broken glass. Nothing
happens without a reason..."
She knew that he had learned this way of giving
tzedoka from his great rebbe and master, R' Chaim
Soloveitchik, who, upon the first knock on the door, always
ran quickly to open it. He was fearful that if he didn't open
the door at once, the poor man might go away.
Indeed, it had once happened that even when he had rushed to
open the door to a beggar, and had begun searching in his
pockets, he had been unable to find any money. He had told
the beggar to wait a moment, but the man was hard of hearing
and thinking he had been rejected, had walked away. When R'
Chaim had returned to find the beggar gone, he had been
beside himself with dismay. His entire body shook. One of his
sons had rushed outside in search of the beggar and only when
he had found him and given him some charity, had the rov been
able to relax again.
Now, as the Rebbetzin looked at the miserable weather
outside, she realized that this man must have a wife and
children in some dingy apartment, waiting to be fed. Surely
this man could not afford to heat the place. The Rosh Yeshiva
would most probably give him a generous donation to feed the
family and have something left over for fuel.
R' Isser Zalman finally arrived home to a pot of hot tea. As
they drank, the Rov said to his pupil, R' Yitzchok Zalaznik,
"It is written that Hashem stands to the right of the poor.
If we do our duty, Hashem will stand by our right side, as
well. However, if we neglect it, the wheel of fortune might
revolve and we might find ourselves in his position..."
