Welcome to the Heart Tales blog where you will find stories of healing, wisdom, and faith for your adventure toward wholeness. 

Why a blog for Heart Tales? Well, since the true spirit of my work is to lead people on a life-changing adventure toward wholeness by connecting their hearts to their true selves, to others, and to God through stories of healing, wisdom, and faith, I’d like to offer you a regular diet of stories of healing, wisdom, and faith with a brief reflection to help you move ahead on your adventure toward wholeness.

My goal is to publish on Mondays and Thursdays each week so you can use the time in-between posts to reflect on the stories fully. Your comments and reflections will always be welcome.

The story I’d like to welcome you to the blog with is called “The Baal Shem Tov & the Storyteller.”  The story goes like this…

The man who started the revival in the Hasidic Jewish tradition was the Baal Shem Tov. He had a great following in Poland and in Germany. There were many people who believed very strongly in all the beautiful thoughts he had to revive the religion.

Now on the day the Baal Shem Tov was dying, he assigned each of his disciples a task to carry on his name, to do some of his work. When he finished with all but one of his disciples he had one more task. He called the last disciple and gave him this task: to go all over Europe to retell the stories he remembered from the master.

The disciple was very disappointed. This was hardly a prestigious job and the man was afraid he would not even be able to support himself while he traveled and told stories. But the Baal Shem Tov told him that he would not have to do it forever; that he would receive a sign when he was to stop and then he could live out the rest of his life in peace.

So off he went, and the days and months turned into years and years of telling stories until he had told them in every part of the world. Then he heard of a man in Italy, a nobleman in fact, who would pay a gold piece for each new story of the Baal Shem Tov told.

So the disciple went to Italy to the nobleman’s castle. When the nobleman saw him he welcomed him with a great feast and invited him after supper to tell a tale of the great Baal Shem Tov.

But to the storyteller’s absolute horror he discovered that he had forgotten all the Baal Shem Tov stories. He couldn’t’ remember a single tale. He was mortified. But the nobleman was kind and urged him to stay a few more days anyway, in the hope that he would eventually remember something.

But the next day and the next he remembered nothing. Finally, on the third day, the disciple, out of sheer embarrassment, protested that he must go. So the nobleman said, “If you will not stay, at least let me send you off in my own carriage. My driver will give you a ride to the next town.” The storyteller agreed and rode off down the road in the nobleman’s carriage.

When they had gone about a half mile, suddenly the storyteller remembered one story of the Baal Shem Tov. He shouted to the driver, “Turn around! Go back to the house! I have remembered a story!”

When they arrived back at the manor the storyteller rushed inside and called for the nobleman. When the master of the house entered the hallway where the storyteller stood waiting, the teller smiled and said, “In the carriage I remembered one story of my master the Baal Shem Tov. It’s not one of the stories I usually tell but it is a story I know that is true for I was with the master when it happened.”

The nobleman ushered the storyteller into his parlor and said, “Please, tell me the story you remember. This is the story that he told.

“Once, in the middle of the night, the Baal Shem Tov woke me and told me to harness the horses for we were about to take a trip to a particular city in Turkey where at that time of year the streets were decorated for the Christian’s Easter festival procession.

I was very upset. For I knew that Jews were not safe in that city during the Christian Holy Week and Easter, for it was the custom in that city to kill the first Jew they saw on the street during that time.

Still we went. We traveled into the city and then into the Jewish quarter where the Jews were all huddled behind their shutters out of fear. They were in hiding, waiting until the festival was over and they could go out on the streets again in safety. We found lodging in the home of the village rabbi.

So imagine how startled and surprised I was when the Baal Shem Tov stood up and opened all the windows of the house and stood in the window in full view!

Looking through the window he saw the bishop leading the Easter procession. He was arrayed like a prince with gold vestments, silver miter, and a diamond studded staff. The Baal Shem Tov told me, ‘Go tell the bishop I want to see him.’

I thought he was out of his mind. I protested. ‘But master, the Christians will kill us!’ But my master would not change his mind. So I went out, stopped the procession and told the bishop that the Baal Shem Tov wanted to see him.

The bishop seemed frightened and upset. But he came with me into the home of the village rabbi. The Baal Shem Tov and the bishop went into a back room and talked. After three hours my master came out and said we were ready to go home.”

The storyteller finished the story and apologized for its insignificance. But when he looked at the nobleman he noticed tears running down his cheeks. Finally, when the man could speak, he said,

“Oh storyteller, your story has just saved my soul! You see, I was there that day. I was that bishop. I had descended from a long line of distinguished rabbis but one day, during a time of great persecution, I abandoned the faith and converted to Christianity. The Christians, of course, were so pleased that in time they even made me a bishop. and I accepted everything, even went along with the killing of the Jews each year until that one year.

The night before the festival I had a terrible dream of the Day of Judgment and the danger to my soul. So when you came the very next day with a message from the Baal Shem Tov, I knew that I had to go with you.

For three hours he and I talked. He told me that there still might be hope for my soul. He told me to sell all my goods and give one third of the money to the poor, use one third to build houses of refuge for those in need, and to keep one third for myself to live on. And his last words to me were these: ‘When a man comes to you and tells you your own story, you will know that your sins are forgiven.’

When you could not remember any of the Baal Shem Tov stories I took that as a sign of judgment. But the one story you did remember was my story. Now I know that my sins are forgiven an I am healed.”

My hope is that as you read this blog you will hear your own story, and that in hearing your story you will be healed.