A while ago I promised stories from Chelm, the real-life shtetl whose citizens are missing a herring or two but in their own minds were the Einsteins of world Jewry…
The people of Chelm were besides themselves. The poorbox in the synagogue had been stolen. What would they do!? These people needed the money. The Board came up with a brilliant decision. They would put the poorbox closer to the ceiling so no thief could reach it. The rabbi said that was a good idea if it were not for the fact that if the thief couldn’t reach it, neither could the poor. So the Board deliberated and came up with the perfect plan…illustrating the wisdom of these Chelmites…they built a staircase to the poorbox so those needing the money could reach it.
Chelm’s rabbi was also wise, a true reflection of his Board. There was a terrible fire in the Town that had broken out in the middle of the night. Everyone came to extinguish it. Once the fire was out the rabbi climbed on a table to address the townfolks. “This,” said the rabbi, was a miracle from God!” There were murmurs of surprise so the rabbi continued, “Look at It this way, my friends, if it were not for the bright flames, how would we have been able to see how to put the fire out on such a dark night!”
Rarely do you read the following kinds of stories about the sages of Chelm, but here’s one: A young scholar runs to the rabbi, “Rabbi, Rabbi, I don’t understand it, my wife just gave birth!” He wanted an explanation inasmuch as they’ve only been married for three months. “How can this be! Everyone knows it takes nine months for a baby to be born!” The rabbi, a world-renowned sage, put on his silver-rimmed spectacles and furrowed his brow reflectively. “My son, I can see you know nothing about such matters, nor can make the simplest calculations.” The rabbi went on, “Have you lived with your wife three months?” “Yes.” “She has lived with you three months?” “Yes.” “Together have you lived three months?” “Yes.” “What’s the total then – three months plus three plus three?” “Nine months, Rabbi!” “So,” exclaimed the rabbi, “what’s the problem?”
One more:
A Chelmite goes to the rabbi and asks, “Which is more important, Rabbi, the sun or the moon?” The rabbi responded, “That’s a silly question. Of course, the moon is more important.” The man asks, “Why do you say that?” The rabbi said, “The moon shines at night when we really need it. But who needs the sun to shine when it’s already broad daylight?” (That’s my kind of rabbi!)