The Hidden Tzaddik and the Beautiful Esrog

In the city of Koritz, the local esrog merchant had a long-standing custom: each year, he would present the most beautiful esrog in his collection to the city’s revered Rav, Reb Pinchas of Koritz zt’’l.

Reb Pinchas’s children learned together with the children of their melamed—a simple and ehrliche Yid, known for his sincerity and humility.

One year, as Sukkos approached, a playful debate broke out between the two sets of children. Each claimed that their father had the most beautiful esrog. Eventually, their spirited argument reached the ears of Reb Pinchas himself.

Intrigued, the Rebbe asked to see the melamed’s esrog. When it was brought before him, Reb Pinchas scrutinized it—and to his surprise, he had to admit that it was indeed more beautiful than his own.

Perplexed, the Rebbe went to the esrog dealer and asked, “How can it be that the melamed has a nicer esrog than the one you always set aside for me?”

The dealer explained: “The melamed deeply desires to fulfill the mitzvah of esrog most beautifully, but he doesn’t have the means to purchase a top esrog outright. So we made a quiet arrangement. All year long, he sets aside pennies, saving whatever he can. Shortly before Sukkos, he brings me a small sack filled with coins—neither of us knows exactly how much is inside. Then, without negotiating or asking prices, he reaches into the box and selects an esrog with complete faith. And somehow… every year, he ends up choosing the finest one.”

Reb Pinchas stood in awe. He realized that this melamed, outwardly simple, was in truth a hidden tzaddik.

That Sukkos, the Rebbe personally invited the melamed to join him for Kiddush in his sukkah. The melamed humbly accepted. As they sat together in the holy atmosphere of the sukkah, the melamed looked around and remarked innocently, “Tell me—how is it that impure flies are flying around in such a holy place?”

Reb Pinchas asked in return, “You don’t have flies in your sukkah?” The melamed replied simply, “No… I haven’t seen any.”

Soon after Sukkos, the melamed—who clearly wished to keep his spiritual stature hidden—quietly left the city and was never seen again.