“Who wants a blessing? Who wants a blessing?” yelled the pauper from his corner in the street. People looked at him weirdly as they walked by him. “How can this beggar, who has had no success in his life, be giving out blessings for our successes?” The entire idea seemed off to the villagers and townsfolk, but this kept on going on and on for weeks and months.

From a faraway town, the rich Mr. Zundel made his way through the land for business. It was at a certain crossroads, just before a long stretch in the journey, that his driver asked that he be given some time to rest in a lodge. Zundel, with his elegant stature, gave the innkeeper a hefty deposit for the overnight stay for two, and for horse feed, hay, and water. Everything was ahead of schedule, but by morning, the rich man realized his woes as he found his driver dead beneath his covers.

“He must’ve contracted some illness along the way, and this is why he asked to rest,” Zundel told himself. Without many options, he decided to bury his driver in the old cemetery in this passerby town. Very few people came to the funeral, and even fewer to mourn, and after just another day, the rich man was on his way to the big city to finish his business dealings. He told himself, “I will give my driver’s widow a hefty sum so that she and her kids can live happily and comfortably for the rest of their lives.”

But his worries didn’t end there. Without his driver, he got lost and stuck over and over again. He couldn’t figure out his path or what road to take. He didn’t know how to tie his horses or how often to feed them. His wheels were muddy and rusty, and they caused his terrible nausea and sickness. He slowly ran out of........

© The Times of Israel (Blogs)