[Page 137]

Legends and Mystery Stories

Why is our shtetl called Shebreshin?

When the enemy of Israel, Chmielnicki, entered our shtetl with military forces, it was a Saturday long ago. Since there lived in our town many pious Jews, all the stores were shut.

Chmielnicki and his Cossacks had no idea where they were and what the name of the town was. Everything was closed. People were afraid to be seen in the street.

Suddenly, the Cossacks spotted an old Jew, a pious businessman, who was on his way to shul. They stopped him and asked him the name of the town. The Jew, not wanting to speak about secular matters, was silent. One of the soldiers became enraged and hit him on the face with his Cossack fist and broke his teeth. Even then the Jew did not want to desecrate the Sabbath, but from great pain he screamed, “Shavar shen!”^[1]

The Cossacks then happily replied, “Now we know the name of the town, Shebreshin.” Since then our shtetl has been called Shebreshin.

*

When I was a small child, a very old man told me all kinds of stories. He liked to gather the children around him and tell them stories. This was one of his anecdotes.

Translator's Footnote

1. “Broken tooth!” Return

After the Jews were expelled from Spain, a number of them settled in Shebreshin. At the time, the authorities forbade the Jews to study.

So the Jews, early in the morning, on a secret signal, stole out of town far into the countryside. In a village, Kovencik, there were tall mountains and deep valleys and even deeper hidden caves. In one of these caves, the Jews gathered and studied Talmud and the laws. When they finished a tractate, they carved the name of the tractate on a tree so that they would know which portion they had done, and what remained to do.

The goyim, on more than one occasion, would tell them when the authorities, who persecuted them, were coming.

The spot was holy to the goyim, especially the mountain, under which, in the deep cave, the Jews studied Torah. They called it, “Zhidovske Szkole.”^[1]

*

When I married R' Abraham Mordechai Boim, z”l, and moved to S., my mother-in-law, Rachel Leahle, told me this story of the old Shebreshin.

Translator's Footnote

1. Jewish school Return

In the New York newspaper, “Der Tog,” a fragment of the serial, “Fun Eibekn Kvall”, by Menashe Unger, was published. It referred to the book, “Chutim Meshulshim,” by Abraham Stern, published in Montreal, Canada. We cite below the following excerpt.

Among the old people of Shebreshin it was said that in the middle of the forest there was an empty spot, where no snow ever persisted, and the local peasants called, “Zhidovske Szkole.” (Jewish school), and that on some of the old trees there were words carved in Hebrew, “Here we ended the tractate Shabbat,” and so on.

This oral tradition says that these words were carved by a contingent of Spanish exiles that ended up in Poland and founded the nine communities of which S. was one.

Among the exiles, great mystics were to be found. In the deep caves and cellars found in those forests, these mystics used holy words to create a pathway so that those who are worthy can, via the cave, come quickly and easily to Eretz-Israel.

It is winter. The whole town is covered with a blanket of snow. Near the bridge over the Wiepz, sits the old wooden Radziner shtibl, holes in its shingled roof. Some of its windows are sunken close to the earth from old age. But now it is winter and the shtibl has a holiday air, the snow covering it with a white coat.

Glimmers of light from the burned out candles can be seen through the sunken window. The voice of someone late to prayer carries over the shtetl.

The winter would have passed like all other winters in Shebreshin had not a shleper, or just a buffon, showed up in town claiming to be a Radziner Chasid. He stayed in the Radziner shtibl and said that he had heard of the cave in Kovencik that leads to Eretz-Israel, and he intends to make his way there.

Upon hearing such a story, we became very interested in the honored guest. Everyone wanted to have this remarkable guest at his table. It's no small thing! A Jew is ready to attempt the hidden Kovencik cave! And if he were successful and arrived in Israel? The very thought that he might make it, meant salvation could be so near: Kovencik—Eretz Isael. Every Jew in the Diaspora held, deep in his heart, a secret longing.

Evey cheder boy, hearing such bizarre, secretive words from the adults, began to fantasize. We imagined the cave full of snakes and evildoers. Legends about the cave were widespread among the residents of Kovencik. The farmers in the surrounding region used to say that at the time of “Bozhe Tshialo” you could hear the muffled sound of church bells. They said, that at other Christian holidays, you could hear the secret church bells.

The whole area was hidden in mystery. There were names of scholarly books carved in the bark of the trees in the forest around the cave by wandering Jews. In the caves of the mountain in Kovencik, the Jews from the time of the expulsion from Germany, found a hiding place not daring to settle yet in the occupied settlements. In all probability, most of the Shebreshiner Jews came from these harried and persecuted Jews. A fog of legend surrounded the cave that the Chasid was ready to descend into in order to reach Eretz-Israel.

One frosty morning, the visitor got himself ready. He put on a pair of big boots with double leggings, wrapped straw around his boots, then sprayed water over them in order to form an icy barrier. He put a fur cap with ear flaps on his head. He stuffed his nostrils with cotton so as not to lose any body heat. Over his Chasidic mantle he pulled a farmer's sheepskin coat, and bound it all tightly with his Shabes gartle. No small thing! He was going to discover the way to the land of our fathers.

Of course, they made a lechaim. He took his leave of everyone, except for those who were to accompany him to the cave. Horses and wag,ons were harnessed and a mass of people and children accompanied the bizarre visitor. The Shebreshiner gentiles, observing the commotion before the departure, wondered at the celebration of the “zhidkes.” Are they accompanying a rabbi, or a messenger going to greet the Messiah? The Shebreshiner gentiles already had seen how the Chasidim hosted a rabbi visiting the shtetl. That the rabbi was not wearing a shtreml, they did not understand. So they stood and gaped at the unusual Jewish celebration.

After mutual good wishes, the wagon moved out. The wagon was accompanied a good distance out of town to the mill. The wagon moved further away on the road leading to Bloine , until it was lost to view in the orchards of the village.

The shtetl held its breath waiting for the good news to arrive. The accompanying men returned. Days and weeks passed and no news came. Those who went with him did not look each other in the eyes when they met. All were dazzled as if by a solar eclipse. According to all calculations the Chasid should have already returned from Eretz-Israel and announced: “Yidden, pack your things and set forth!

But the Kovencik goyim brought bad tidings to the shtetl. They had seen a Jew, a shleper, stumbling around in the snowy mountains of the village. Winter passed and the mountains were covered in green, and the messenger had not returned. The shtetl had forgotten the whole affair.

Suddenly, in the middle of the shachrit prayers, the door of the Radziner shtibl opened, and the visitor unexpectedly appeared. His fatigued appearance affected everyone. The shleper's feet were covered in rags. His clothing was tattered. Everyone was so dismayed, no words came out of their mouths. It was as if language had been forgotten.

When the whole crowd surrounded the visitor, he related in broken tones how, halfway there he had encountered Eliyahu Hanavi. Eliyahu looked at him with gentle eyes, extended his hand and greeted him. Then he said with anger, “ How does a Jew dare to bring salvation before its time? Go, tell Shebreshin that the time has not yet arrived!”

Then the shleper sat down on a pew and covered his face with his hands. People saw how torn his clothes were, his feet covered in mud. In a loud voice he yelled, “ Go home, Jews. The ketz^[1] has been postponed. We will arrive in Eretz-Israel in our time!”

I heard this story when I was a cheder boy in the shtetl.

Kiryat Yam

1. Coming of the Messiah Return

I asked some of the Torah scholars in Shebreshin (at the time I was living in the house of my father-in-law Hirsch, the ritual slaughterer from 1896 to 1900) about the event and the man: how is it possible that the tombstone of the author, the rabbi of Shebreshin, z”l, is standing in the Shebreshin cemetery, while Rabbi Chida, z”l (R'Chaim Yosef David Azulay) wrote in his book Shem Hagedolim that he saw his tombstone in Eretz Israel? They replied that according to a tradition, passed from person to person for many generations, angels from Heaven removed his body from his grave in Shebreshin and buried it in Eretz Israel.

Yet his grave in Shebreshin was treated with respect and piety, and people visited and prayed there, asking for help and support; they were assured that the prayers would be answered.

I read in the book by the Holy SHELAH, before the chapter called Yesh Nochalin, that several rabbis (Rabbi Yosef ben Matityahu, z”l, Rabbi Shmuel Eidels [the MAHARSHA], z”l, the BACH [author of Bayit Chadash] and others) agreed that it was in 1624.

Let the cynics, who don't believe in miracles by the merit of Tzadikim, not be astonished: how could angels carry him to Eretz Israel? The wise King Solomon has already written: There is nothing new under the sun. And it already happened that the prophet Elijah, z”l – a long time after he rose to Heaven – buried Rabbi Akiva (Tosefta Bava Metzi'a, 114, 2).

With a great commotion, in wagons drawn by two horses, and accompanied by music the groom would be brought from Frampol, not far from S.
According to an old tradition, a groom coming from elsewhere, along with his guests, had to make seven circuits of the courthouse.

In 1912-1913, this tradition was halted because of the hatred of the anti-Semitic peasants who would stand on the stairs of the court house with boycott posters proclaiming “Buy from our people: “Swoj do swego.”

The result of this anti-Semitic hatred was that dozens of Jewish families living nearby had to abandon their homes and businesses.

In the old shul siddur, where the important events of the town were inscribed, the following story is told.

In 1880, the so-called “Black Plague” broke out in S. and the surrounding area. It struck down large numbers of young and old. The elders of the time decided, after long deliberation, to marry two orphans in the cemetery as a remedy to stop the plague.

With great joy and the musical accompaniment of the Blum family, who were specially brought down from Zamosc, the chupah of the two orphans was erected. The town had promised to support them their entire lives. The orphans were Mendl Ketzeleh's and his wife who were given the exclusive right to sew tachrichim.^[1]

*

We find this story completed in the following writings of Yankel Lam (Brooklyn, New York).

There were many deaths due to the plague. First the rabbinical court called for a communal fast. Later, when the plague continued, it was decided that they should mount a “black chupah” in the cemetery for a poor young woman and a poor young man of the town.

All the healthy residents took part in the wedding. Then God came to their aid. The plague ended and the sick were healed.

Before dawn, still dark, the old shames, R' David Hersh, with his great boots, holding a lantern, goes from house to house, knocks on each door with his staff, and in his deep voice shouts, “Wake up for sliches!”[2]

Suddenly, in the still sleeping shtetl, light entered the windows of the houses.

The bells of the churches began to ring without ceasing. The wind gruesomely whistled and scattered the burning sparks from the roof of old shul.

Young and old, Jews and Christians, ran to put out the fire, some, to save their own houses. The word was passed from mouth to mouth that the roof was ignited because, a large ammunition supply of the revolutionaries had been hidden in the attic.

Haifa

1. shrouds Return
2. Slichot, morning prayers Return

From early childhood, I used to listen to the stories told by the old people in the shtetl. I carried them around in my mind for many years, until I wrote them down for this article. The first two stories are from the 19^th century.

Shlomo Frank, or as he was called, the Rabbi, R' Shloimele, Mechele Treger's great–uncle, was usually in the country: he dealt in fish, probably also brought calves on his narrow shoulders. He was small, thin, with a little goatee. He used to wear a thick caftan and big boots. He gave the impression of an ignorant youth who could not even daven.

He was never seen in the streets. He took great pains to avoid talking to his neighbors. But if he heard a baby crying in his crib when no one was home, he would steal into the house, sit down by the crib, sing a lullaby, and rock the cradle. When any of the people living in the house would return, he would get up, and without a word, he would leave. He refused to accept any thanks. He said that thanks should be given to God.

A strange person, the people in town said. A person who seeks no pleasure from this world, but only from the world to come. He ate barely enough to sustain his soul. He argued that it was neither nice, nor Jewish, to eat too much, that a Jew should be tall, fat and healthy.

When he brought his fish to town, he sold the biggest ones, and ate the smallest. “With these little fish, there will be a good Oneg Shabbat.” Quietly, he made Kiddushand sang zmires.

Friday evening, after eating, he would lie down to sleep without a pillow, on a bench so small he could not extend his legs, so that he could not enjoy his sleep too much.

He would seat himself at a table covered by a cloth of rough peasant cotton. His chale was of black flour, not properly baked, and burnt. He davened in the small shul. His Shabes clothing consisted of a thin caftan, and since it lacked even one button, he would wage war with the wind, and hold it together with his hands.

During the week, he rarely slept. After midnight, he sat on his doorstep and napped. He spent many a night in the cemetery.

The Jews in town wondered: What does this strange person want? Which Chasidic group does he belong to–maybe the Breslaw? Maybe to the Haskala, or even to the Shabtai Zvi? However, the Shabtai Zvi were an immoral sect, because according to widespread rumor, they carried on orgies with naked women, and for such a Jew as he was, it was impossible to imagine.

He was the object of much speculation until his death, where in his room, many books were found. So much speculation began that he was a Lamed Vavnik. And so the women, perhaps our mothers and grandmothers, visited his grave and inserted kvitlach^[1] in order to gain favor from his merits.

1. Hand written notes to God Return

The small shtetl of Shebreshin, lay constrained between the mountains and the river, so that in order to grow, it would have had to expand into the goyishe neighborhoods, and this was something they didn't want, and we didn't want. The Gorajec mountains stood at the head of the shtetl. They provided us with lime for the cholent ovens, but nothing else. The river at its feet provided us with a little more–the bath which was located hard by the river had enough water for the mikvah, and to pour buckets of water on yourself, as much as the heart desired.

A little beyond the river, a magnificent grassy area spread covered with a mass of poppies and forget–me–nots that rolled like a green ocean wave with the slightest breeze. The picture was completed by fruit orchards that began the summer with red cherries, sour cherries, plums, and ended in autumn with apples that the Jewish sadovniks^[1] stored in their cellars for winter when God might send good merchants from the larger cities. After summer, there was a sadness in the shtetl, which was covered in monotonous, and boggy mud.

A little closer to our time, that is when we, the young people, became aware of the outside world, the shtetl began to assume a different appearance. Awakening in 1918 from a long sleep to a new life, it began to move with giant strides, like water bursting through a dam. The first meeting for an eight–hour day took place in the Bet Hamidrash through the Bund. Respectable Jews were shocked by the news, but kept silent.

From there the movement grew until Shebreshin was called, “Shebreshin the Bundist fortress.” The Bundists won all the seats on city council except for one seat for the Citizen's Bloc. Under the influence of this movement, there was a school for poor children, a trade union, and the intellectual cream of the young boys and girls. There were also Zionists of all hues, religious Jews more than others, with their schools, Chasidic shtiblach and so on. In a word, a lively, beautiful, social and religious Jewish life.

1. A Jew who would lease an orchard from a landowner Return

The first tombstone at the entrance to the cemetery in Shebreshin, sunken into the earth with age, its letters half worn away, and hard to read, stood between two old, broad, oak trees.

One of these old tombstones was the tombstone of rabbi R' Simchele, who died 150 years ago. It was said that, in his will, he promised that if anyone should come to his grave with a request, he would try to see it fulfilled by God. And indeed, when a person, or the community found himself or herself in trouble, they would come to his grave to remind him of his will.

Among the important graves was the grave of the famous rabbi, R' Shlomo, or as he was called, R' Shlomo the Good. He died in 1840. It was said of him that at Yom Kippur, during “Leyl Kol Nidrei”, when all the men and women were in shul, R' Shlomo the Good would go around to the Jewish houses and listen to hear if a child was crying. Mothers would leave their babies in the care of older children during Kol Nidrei night. When the baby started to cry, the older child would also cry. R' Shlomo would enter, and with great love, quiet the children.

Among the tombstones there was also one of a mother and her seven children, Kohanim. People believed that they perished at the hands of Chmielnicki.

A tenant was usually considered an illiterate Jew, who could daven from the siddur and read the Torah portion, and sometimes not even this. A tenant who could learn a piece of the Mishne was rare, and one who could read a page of Gemora did not exist.

Nevertheless, there once was a tenant in Lukow at Tarnograd who knew tractates of Talmud as a Jew knows ashrei. They wanted to make him a rabbi in Amsterdam, but he was not willing. It seems that Providence settled him in a quiet corner of Poland so that from him could arise the great Jewish figure who would later found Chasidism in Greater Poland, and his name is spoken with glory and praise until today.

He himself, the tenant, R' Yakov Kopel, was not a Chasid. But, he told his son Israel he should not say “Vayitzmach purkanei” in kaddish at his death. And once, when the Baal Shem Tov entered his home by the door, he jumped out the window. He regularly invited the poor to his home, a very righteous man, and a God fearing man. He dedicated himself to fulfilling the mitzvoth of the Torah.

And because he was a proper, pious Jew, he fulfilled the “Veshinantam levanecha.” He hired the best teachers for his son, Israel, and for his daughter, Shprintzl–Matel, he sought out a son–in–law, a tsatske, of important lineage, the Shebreshiner “ilui”,^[1] R' Abraham Laizer Horwitz, and promised to support him for five years.

A year after the wedding, R' Yakov Kopel was blessed with a grandchild. Shprintzl–Matel gave birth to a son, Yakov–Itzchak. The grandfather's joy was not to be described. He loved his grandchild like one of his own eyes. He called him Itzikel, and carried him around all day like a Sefer–Torah. His lips whispered a prayer to the Creator that the child, his first grandchild, should grow up to be a God fearing person and a “Gadol b'Israel.”

The wedding took place on a winter's night in Krasnobrod. A large crowd attended–relatives and rabbis and a couple of hundred guests. At the groom's meal, before the wedding, there were a couple of hundred guests, and rabbis. The groom turned to his grandfather and said, “I want to see the bride before the wedding!” The grandfather and the father were stunned. How can it be that the young man speaks such nonsense. Itzikel reminded them of what is written in the Gemora. “Asur leadam lekadesh ishah ad sheyerinah[2]” Nu, if the Gemora says so, it must be so.

So they brought the bride in. Itzikel gave her a sidelong glance, and suddenly went pale as chalk. Quietly he whispered in his grandfather's ear that he did not want the bride, because he did not see in her “Tselem elokim.”[3]

At first the driver mocked him. He was certain that he was guilty. But afterwards, when they stopped and he saw how Itzikel davened, he understood that Itzikel was a scholar. He asked him where he wanted to go, and promised him he would take him to Rovno, to the Mezritcher magid[4]. He stayed with the driver for several days in Hrubieszow, and then he brought him to Rovno, to the magid.

When the driver brought him to the house, the magid, R' Ber, embraced him with great affection and said, “Don't worry, Itzikel! Satan has lost the game.”

1. Child prodigy in Talmudic learning Return
2. “It is forbidden for a man to marry a woman before he sees her” Return
3. Appearance of a pious Jew Return
4. Itinerant preacher Return

[Page 161]

Our rabbi the BESHT [Ba'al Shem Tov] once heard that in the shtetl Shebreshin, in the Lublin District, an old tradition prevails: Shebreshin was the place where the exiles from Spain first stopped when they arrived in Poland, and there they founded the first Jewish community, of the nine communities that the Spanish exiles founded in Poland in 5290 (1530 CE). Near Shebreshin, there is a small grove where it never snows, and the peasants call it “The Jewish Synagogue.” According to an old legend, the Tractate Berachot is engraved on the trees, and a tradition among the Spanish Exiles in Poland says that from that grove one can arrive, with one step, directly in Eretz Israel. Our rabbi went to Shebreshin and asked – “Is there any truth in the story that a short way exists from there to Eretz Israel?” They said that in the neighborhood there is a robber whose dogs really eat people, and he knows the way to Eretz Israel; but the Jews were afraid to go to the places where the robber was living.

Our rabbi the BESHT, who longed to go to Eretz Israel, went, all alone, to look for the robber. When the robber saw him, he sent his big dog to eat him, but the dog stood up on two feet as if bowing before the BESHT. The robber came out and asked forgiveness from the holy rabbi, his hands full of fruits from Eretz Israel.

   Where did you take the fruits?

   In the next village.

   Can you take me to that village?

   Yes, but on the way there is a river, and only a narrow bridge made of a slab of wood can take us across.

The robber went in front and passed the bridge, and when the BESHT approached and wanted to cross, the waters of the river rose and the BESHT barely escaped, and he returned alone to Shebreshin.

The BESHT understood then, that it is Heaven that prevents him from going to Eretz Israel.

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