"We cannot host criminals in our home. Until you change your evil ways, you are no longer welcome here”

In a small Jewish town in Morocco lived a couple that was childless. As their friends and relatives celebrated the birth of baby boys and girls, their home remained empty and quiet. Year after year, the couple traveled to the burial sites of holy Tzaddikim and poured out their hearts, begging Hashem to bless them with children.

As the couple grew older they began to lose all hope of ever holding a baby of their own . Still, they davened every day that a miracle should occur, because there is nothing beyond the grasp of Hashem. Their persistent davening succeeded in moving the very heavens and at a very late age, the couple finally had a baby! They cried with joy as the sweet sounds of a baby crying filled their home with warmth.  It was a beautiful baby boy! Mazal tov!

Eight days later the entire town packed into the local shul for the momentous bris. In attendance was the crown of the Moroccan Jewry, R’ Chaim ben Moshe ibn Attar, otherwise known by his monumental commentary on Chumash, Ohr Hachaim.

R’ Chaim held the tiny baby in his arms and blessed the couple that they should only know of nachas from their new son.

“When he gets old enough, bring him to join the group of children I teach in the shul,” R’ Chaim instructed the parents as he handed them back their infant. “With the help of Hashem he will grow up to be a righteous, G-d fearing Jew.”

Everyone in attendance responded with a resounding “Amein!”

*************************

The couple’s joy was short-lived. As their baby, Shimon, grew up, it became apparent that something was very wrong with him. It all began one day as he sat with a group of children in front of their rebbi, R’ Chaim.

In the middle of R’ Chaim’s lesson, the door to the shul burst open and a Jewish beggar stumbled inside.

“Aharon, is everything all right?” R’ Chaim looked up from his scroll as the distraught beggar came toward him.

“No! Everything is horrible!” the beggar moaned, pulling at his hair in distress. “Yesterday I collected many coins, all the falus I needed to buy a decent supper. But I left my collecting cup in this shul for fifteen minutes and when I returned someone had stolen every last coin!”

The beggar’s eyes shifted over to the children sitting on the floor. His gaze rested on Shimon and the suspicious bulge in the young boy’s pockets.

“Can it be?” The beggar leapt forward and stuck his hand in Shimon’s pocket, causing an avalanche of coins to come tumbling out.

“Ganav!” the beggar screeched, shaking Shimon in rage. “How could you steal from someone who has no money for food?”

“I thought the coins were hefker,” Shimon replied, shrugging his shoulders in indifference. “Now let go of me before I decide to run off with your coins again!”

The beggar stepped away quickly and stared in alarm at the insolent boy.

R’ Chaim watched all of this with tremendous concern. Something in the boy’s demeanor sent a shiver up his back.