Story

From shemayisrael.co.il

When the Noda BiYehudah began his career as the Rav of Prague, he saw a crying child on the street. When he approached, the boy told him he was a non-Jew whose stepfather, one of the bakers of the city, had sent him to sell a basket of loaves of bread. He had sold all the loaves but had lost the money, and he was afraid to go home because he knew from past experience that his stepfather would beat him mercilessly. He didn't know what to do or where to turn. The Noda BiYehudah took pity on the boy and gave him the necessary sum out of his own pocket.

Many years later, once in the late hours of the night when the Noda BiYehudah was engrossed in his usual learning, he suddenly heard a soft knock on his door. Surprised, not knowing who his guest could be at such a late hour, the Noda BiYehudah opened the door and found a man about forty years of age who looked like a typical non-Jew.

"Your honour wouldn't recognize me," said the non-Jew, "but I am that little boy who stood and cried at the city square many years ago, and the Rabbi in his great kindness saved me then from my stepfather's anger. I have come now to repay that good deed. I came to tell your honour about a terrible plot the bakers of the city are planning for the holiday of Passover, which is almost here. Since after your holiday, the Jews buy bread from non-Jews, the bakers agreed unanimously to poison all the loaves of bread which would be sold to the Jews. They did everything to ensure that their plot would be kept secret and would not become known to the authorities. Despite the danger involved for me, I have come to warn you ahead of time of this plot, so that you, with your great wisdom, will be able to prevent its success."

The Noda BiYehudah became very frightened upon hearing this. At the same time he was impressed by the dedication of the non-Jew. The Rav thanked him profusely for his warning and began planning what to do in order to foil the anti-Semitic bakers' plot.

During the entire holiday, the Rav kept quiet and didn't tell anyone what might happen, G-d forbid, at the end of the last day of Pesach. On the eighth night of the holiday, all the congregates were surprised by an announcement of the Rav's messengers. According to the orders of the Rav, the following morning all the shuls would be closed except for the main shul. There, the Rav would address all the members of the community, who were instructed to attend. Everyone understood that something out of the ordinary had happened. Every Jewish resident of Prague obeyed the Rav's orders and appeared at the appointed time in the main shul.

"A mistake is always discovered," the Rav of Prague announced to his shocked community. "We made a mistake this year in calculating the new moon, and we brought Pesach in a day early. Therefore, tomorrow is a holiday. We all must be careful not to eat chametz."

The members of the community knew the greatness of their esteemed Rav, and didn't question his strange and surprising decision. They adhered to his words without question.

At the end of the holiday, the bakers could not understand why the Jews weren't buying their bread as they did every year. Instead, policemen came and took their loaves of bread away and threw the bakers who had devised the terrible plot into prison.

"It wasn't my wisdom alone that stood up for me," the Noda BiYehudah repeated to his son, "but also the mercy ingrained in me to have pity on every poor person, including a non-Jew, and to give him what he needed."