While Rabbi Chaim was still a student in his grandfather’s Yeshiva he learned the skills of a goldsmith, so that he would earn his livelihood without having to make his Torah knowledge “a spade to dig with.”
Later, when he had already become famous for his learning and saintliness and could have held an honored position as a great Rabbi and Rosh Yeshiva (head of a Yeshiva), he declined to be paid for these services. He preferred to earn his money from the work of his hands, for he was a very skilled goldsmith.
Being an excellent goldsmith, Rabbi Chaim could have earned a lot of money. But he had no desire to earn any more money than was necessary for the modest needs of himself and his family. It was his custom, therefore, to take no more time out from his learning than was necessary. If he had money in his pocket for the day’s needs, he did not work at all, and spent all his time on his saintly studies.
Rabbi Chaim made sure that he would not be bothered by wealthy customers. He simply opened no workshop of his own. Instead, he hired himself out to the best known local non-Jewish goldsmith for several hours a day, or whenever he chose to work in accordance with his needs.
Now, the goldsmith for whom Rabbi Chaim worked was no friend of the Jews, but he valued Rabbi Chaim’s work so much, that he let him work whenever he wanted. Rabbi Chaim never argued about his wages. He was satisfied with whatever his employer paid him. Indeed, once the goldsmith tried to tempt Rabbi Chaim by paying him more than before. He found out, however, that far from being tempted, Rabbi Chaim was now able to stay away from work even longer, so he reduced his pay as much as he could without driving him to his competitor.
It came to pass that the Sultan was getting ready to marry off his daughter. He sent for the goldsmith and placed a large order for very fancy jewelry, to be ready before the wedding.
It so happened that Rabbi Chaim still had some money left from his previous earnings and did not come into the goldsmith for work. When the day came for the royal order to be delivered, the goldsmith had not completed it. The Sultan became very angry and threatened to have the goldsmith thrown to his lions. But the sly goldsmith put the whole blame on Rabbi Chaim, saying that it was his Jewish assistant that had let the Sultan down by not coming to work. So, the Sultan ordered that Rabbi Chaim be thrown to the lions, to be devoured alive.
The Sultan had a beautiful park behind his palace. In the park there was a special area surrounded by high walls, where the Sultan kept his man-eating lions and tigers. Anyone who was sentenced by the Sultan to die, would be thrown to these ferocious beasts. This, the Sultan decreed, was to be also the fate of Rabbi Chaim.
When the Sultan’s guards came to fetch Rabbi Chaim, he asked them only to be allowed to take some of his sacred books with him, and his Tallit and Tefillin. The guards laughed, and said, “Are you going to teach the big cats the wisdom of these books?” Nevertheless, they granted his request.
As Rabbi Chaim was led through the streets, Jews closed their shops and stalls and accompanied him. They wept bitterly to see their beloved Rabbi being led to his horrible death, while some of the local Arab populace jeered and made merry. Rabbi Chaim took no notice of the jeering crowd, but he consoled his grieving brethren, saying to them: “It is G‑d who takes life and gives life; He redeems and saves in time of distress. I am confident that He will spare me from the lions’ teeth. Trust in G‑d.”
The procession came to the gates of the Royal Palace. Rabbi Chaim was led away behind the gates and taken to the lions’ den. Here he was placed in the hands of the keepers to carry out the Sultan’s sentence.
Three days later, the keepers came to feed the beasts, expecting to find only the broken bones of the Rabbi. They could not believe their eyes when they saw the Rabbi sitting in the center of the den, wrapped in his Tallit and Tefillin, and studying his holy books. The wild beasts were crouching all around him, keeping a respectful silence, as if they were listening to his melodious voice.
The keepers rushed to tell the Sultan what they saw. In utter disbelief, the Sultan went to see for himself, and he, too, was amazed and terrified at the awesome sight.
The Sultan ordered that a rope ladder be lowered for the saintly Rabbi, to climb out of the den. When Rabbi Chaim came up, the Sultan humbly begged his forgiveness. “Now I know that there is a G‑d, the Guardian of Israel!” the Sultan exclaimed. He asked the saintly Rabbi to be his friend and adviser and promised that the gates of the palace would always be open for him.
It was a day of light, gladness, joy, and honor for the Jews, while the enemies of the Jews no longer dared lift a hand, or even speak an insult, against any Jew. As for Rabbi Chaim ibn Attar, he returned home with deep gratitude to G‑d and with even greater humility in his heart.
Adapted from Talks and Tales by Nissan Mindel
as seen on Chabad.org
