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    PARSHAS RE’EH: A SPOON AND A HANDLE

    “For you shall surely
    open your hand to
    him.” (Devarim 15:8)
    First, the Torah tells us
    (15:7), “If there be a
    pauper among you,
    one of your brethren,
    in one of your gateways
    in your land that G-d your Lord has given you,
    do not harden your heart nor close your hand
    tight against your impoverished brother.” This
    is clearly telling us to give charity to the poor
    person. Then the Torah continues, “For you
    shall surely open your hand to him and provide
    him with the necessities he is missing.” This
    seems to call for a higher level of charity not
    covered by the first commandment.
    There was once a Jew in Vilna who took a
    great interest in local history. In the course of
    his research, he would often go out to the old
    cemetery and read the inscriptions on the
    tombstones. He was able to gather a surprising
    amount of information in this fashion.
    One day, he came across two adjacent graves.
    According to the inscriptions, the two men
    were brothers, both talmidei chachamim, both
    extraordinary baalei tzedakah, philanthropists.
    Strangely, the two tombstones shared an
    inscription from Eishes Chayil, the last chapter
    of Mishlei (31:20). The inscription began on

    one tombstone with “she extended her palm
    (kappah) to the poor” and was completed on
    the other with “and she stretched out her hand
    (yadeha) to the pauper.”
    The man was puzzled. First of all, he had
    never seen an inscription shared by two
    tombstones. Second, inscriptions from Eishes
    Chayil were used almost exclusively for
    women. There was obviously a story behind
    all this, and by all appearances, an interesting
    story. The man sought out one of the oldest
    men in the Vilna community and asked him
    about the inscription. The old man indeed had
    a story to tell.
    These two brothers were Torah scholars of the
    highest order, and they were also wealthy and
    extremely generous in their charities. They
    were much respected and admired in the
    community.
    Suddenly, their fortunes took a turn for the
    worse. Some of their businesses failed. Their
    investments stagnated. People began to
    wonder and whisper. Why would such a thing
    happen to such sterling people?
    The Rabbinical Court of Vilna also heard the
    stories and took the matter under advisement.
    “How can this be,” declared one of the judges,
    “that two such exemplary talmidei chachamim
    should be going bankrupt? It is a chillul
    Hashem! We have to do something about it.”

    “But what can we do about it?” asked another
    judge. “Should we give them a loan?”
    “No, of course not,” said the first judge. “We
    have to get to the bottom of this and correct
    it.”
    “But how?” said the second judge.
    “There is a simple way,” offered a third judge.
    “We have to summon the brothers to court and
    interrogate them about everything they’ve
    done for the past few years. I have no doubt
    they will answer our questions truthfully.”
    The Rabbinical Court questioned the brothers
    for hours and discovered only one instance of
    wrongdoing. The Halachah demands (Kesubos
    50a) that a person should not give away more
    than a fifth of his wealth to charity, but the
    brothers often exceeded this limit. Their only
    crime was that they gave too much charity!
    What was to be done about this? The
    Rabbinical Court decided that the brothers
    could not be trusted to stay within the
    prescribed limits. Therefore, they themselves
    took control of the finances and decreed that
    anyone approaching the brothers for charitable
    donations should come to the Rabbinical
    Court’s appointed administrator of the
    brothers’ accounts.
    The poor appeared on the doorstep of the
    brothers, and they duly directed them to the
    court-appointed administrator of their
    accounts.
    “We’ve been to him already,” they protested,
    “and he is not nearly as generous as you’ve
    always been. We’ll never feed our children on
    what the administrator gives us.”
    The brothers’ hearts melted, but what could
    they do? They didn’t have control of their
    money. So, they began to give away the silver
    in their cabinets to the poor. Eventually, this
    trove was also depleted, and they were left
    with one silver spoon between them.
    The next day, when a beggar approached each
    of the brothers, they broke the last spoon in
    half. One took the spoon part and gave it to a
    beggar, and the other took the handle and gave
    it to a beggar.
    This wonderful act of charity was memorialized
    on their tombstones, relying on a wordplay.
    The beginning of the verse, “She extended her
    palm (kappah) to the poor” – kappah also
    meaning “her spoon” – appeared on the first
    tombstone. The completion of the verse, “And
    she stretched out her hand (yadeha) to the
    pauper” – yadeha also meaning “her handle”
    – appeared on the other.
    This is an example of “opening the hand” of
    the highest order.