The old man sat on the hard bench of the third compartment of
the train, heading for London. He was extremely tired and
very depressed, as his trips throughout Europe were not
resulting in great success. His thoughts wandered to his
home, to his wife and daughters. They had all been so happy
at the time of the engagement of his oldest daughter, and so
enthusiastic about his upcoming trip. How could he return to
his hometown and tell them that his pockets were still empty,
that the little money he had made had been eaten up by
traveling expenses? He hoped that at least in London he would
succeed in collecting a sizable amount of money to marry off
his daughter.
He closed his eyes and was about to fall asleep when he could
not help overhearing an interesting conversation between two
people sitting right behind him. They spoke about London and
of the noted philanthropist, Mr. Goldblum, and his charitable
wife. The praises were so sincere that Yankel was beginning
to feel hopeful.
He paid full attention to the words of the passengers:
"Mrs. Goldblum is always present in her large kitchen,
helping to select and check the vegetables and supervising
the food to be cooked that day. The servants take their cue
from her and work with skill and speed. The bustling kitchen
is always full of a delicious aroma. The Goldblums are really
very wealthy, and she doesn't have to work at all, but being
childless, she likes to keep busy doing chessed.
"What worlds of chessed is involved in all that
cooking! Surely, living in a mansion in a fine London
neighborhood, Mrs. Goldblum could have enjoyed the company of
the women of high society, but she prefers to spend her time
with the kitchen staff; she personally sees to it that the
many guests are served nourishing meals and that their
accommodations are clean and comfortable."
"I hear that they put people up for sleeping, too," the other
voice took over now. "In fact, they say that entire first
floor of their beautiful home is dedicated to their guests.
People go directly from the train and are welcomed with a
satisfying meal and furnished rooms with beds, tables, lamps -
- everything to make a person feel comfortable."
The first one took up the refrain. "On Shabbos and Yom Tov,
the large dining room table is always full of guests and the
Goldblums join them, overflowing with geniality and
cordiality, to make their guests feel at home. They try to
pay attention to everyone while disregarding the poor manners
of some of the vagrant beggars. It's amazing how they always
find room for one more and then one more and host them all
with friendship and kindness."
Yankel smiled hopefully. He couldn't help thinking that his
fortunes would change in London. Meanwhile, the exchange
behind him was resumed.
"You know, they say that there are never less than thirty
people at his meals at any given time! And it can even run
double or triple! Mr. Goldblum acts so amiable; he never
presses his guests to tell them about their homes, needs,
situation, but if they seem to need to talk, he is always
prepared to lend a listening ear, and then supplies each one
with a generous donation or help in any other form he can
provide. Sometimes people ask for a `loan,' knowing that they
will never be pressed to repay it."
Yankel suddenly realized that he had reached his destination.
He got off at Newbury Park and went directly to the Goldblums
to experience the wonders of this magnanimous hospitality
first hand.
When he arrived, he was welcomed by the Goldblums and was
shown to a nice room which had ample room for his belongings.
He was then directed to a large dining area where a meal of
hot soup, bread, meat and vegetables awaited him.
Yankel was too tired to wash for bread, and dug into the
soup, ate the main dish and then sipped a welcome cup of tea.
He felt a pleasant lethargy sweep over him and he laid his
head down on the table and was soon snoring away.
Gently, Mr. Goldblum tapped his shoulder and said quietly,
"Reb Yid, come with me. I'll take you to your room."
Yankel jumped up and said, "Oh, thank you, sir. So sorry but
there's no need to trouble yourself. I remember where my room
is. I'll find it myself."
Mr. Goldblum did not press and let him go alone.
Several hours later, when the Goldblums were ready to retire
for the night, they found the poor man spread out on one of
the beds in their bedroom.
"What shall we do?" whispered Mrs. Goldblum as they rushed
out of the room. "Where shall we sleep?"
"What's the problem?" asked her husband. "We can take his
things out of the room we prepared for him and transfer them
to our bedroom. As for us, we can spend the night in the
clean and comfortable room we prepared for him!"
In the morning, Yankel awoke and slowly, it dawned on him
what must have happened. He was afraid that his foolish
mistake had angered his host but characteristically, Mr.
Goldblum was as genial and cordial as before.
In fact, he was helpful to Yankel in many ways and when the
latter was prepared to return home, his pockets were full and
he was able to joyfully celebrate his daughter's wedding with
an easy heart.
