Within Jewish folklore there is no city more famous then Chelm (discounting Brooklyn, of course). It being Purim and all that, sit back and relax like our forefathers did with a decaf capuchino and a doughnut. Enjoy, it's Purim! What else are you going to do?

Judaism doesn't believe in the Stork. Well, I mean we believe in it but not all that's related about it. Anyway, what we do believe in are souls. Each one of us has a unique soul. And where do these souls come from? Good you asked, if not I would have to stop and wash the dishes.

So where are all the souls created? We grow them. High in the sky there is a beautiful park whose sole industry is souls. Naturally you know what kind of food they eat... and yes, you also know what kind of energy they use. Now can we continue?

Ah yes, how are they distributed? This is important so pay careful attention. As each child is ready to begin his journey into our imperfect world there is a special angel with beautiful long wings. Every day just before sunrise he takes two bags of souls, one with wise souls and one with foolish souls, distributing them according to his orders from TV shoppers.

One day near the end of the winter (which isn't too important) he awoke very tired (and that is). He stumbled into his clothes and finally managed to get out the door with his two sacks, his lunch and a shopping list for when he returns.

It was cold and foggy and visability was poor due to a high front moving in from a low barometric pressure zone, which no one understands but God and I'm not sure He cares. As he approached a group of wooded mountains he was forced to fly lower then his normal flight path, contravening FAA regulations.

Then it happens! Right in front of him a tall pine tree looms out of the thick mist. He brakes hard, skidding right, glancing off the left side of his wing, thus avoiding direct impact. But one of the bags tore against the branches with all its souls tumbling out into the heart of a very small village. And which bag ripped?

Why, the bag of wise souls of course - could it be otherwise? And so the sleepy hazy town was in for some surprise....

In time the little souls grew up and decided to form a town of their own near the site of the accident, and the little village they built they decided to call Chelm. Why? Who knows? Maybe it's something only wise men whisper to each other late at night while studying thick volumes of text by candlelight.

To build perchance to dream

Its not so easy to build a city. First you have to chop down trees, make the logs into lumber and then begin to build. But where will we get the trees from? "The mountain," cried one scholar. So they all began to chop down the trees and lug the heavy logs down the mountain. One day a passing Jew from Lithuania saw the hard work and advised them "Since the trees are on the mountain why don't you just roll them down?" "Wonderful idea," they replied and right away they began to carry all the logs back up the to the top in order to roll them down.

Believe it or not the town was eventually built, but in their haste they made it too small for the population.

"What are we going to do," they wailed. At length they went to ask the Rabbi. "Simple," he replied. "You have to move the mountain." All the citizens came out one bright morning and began to push. The entire population of Chelm was pushing against the mountain: Men, women, and even little children.

After a while it became unbearably hot and they removed their coats, piling them high one on top of the other. They were concentrating so hard on their work they didn't notice some thieves who came and stole their coats. After a while one of the Chelmites turned around with a shout of joy. "Look, we've succeeded!" How do you know? he was asked. "Because we pushed the mountain so far we can't see our coats anymore!"

Once all the houses were finished the Chelmites looked around to see what was missing.

"We have no school for all our children," they realized. "Where should we put the school?" To that there was only one answer - right in the center of the city. So once again the Chelmites took their axes and chopped down large logs to build such a big building. The logs were so long that they had to be held by 5 people. Naturally they hoisted the log onto their shoulders and came to the next decision - who should go first? Some said it should be the strongest man, others said it should be the wisest, still others said it should be the man with the best eyesight since all the others would be following him practically blind.

Then Reb Nachum came up with the answer that pleased them all. "Let's march 5 abreast. This way all of us can see at the same time. This brilliant idea was quickly put into motion and the whole group marched up the road with the long log held from one end to the other.

This was fine until they came to the first streets. "The streets are too narrow to walk this way," for they were longer then the width of the street. "I know," said Reb Nachum again. "We should knock down the houses on either side of the street until we get to the center, then we can simply build them up again." The people were amazed at the wisdom of Reb Nachum. And so it was done, to the joy of the whole town.

Now the town was complete. The only thing missing was a president. Elections were held and the were two winners. "How can we solve this," they asked each other. Since they were so wise they decided to have a contest. The person who could best show his wisdom through a story would be the president. The whole town turned out to listen to these supremely wise men.

"Once," began the first, "I was walking down the main road on Shabbat. I looked down and there I saw a silver coin. 'What can I do,' I asked myself. 'I can't pick it up and I can't stand on it all day, but if I move I will forget the exact position.' So I decided to place my shoe on it. This way, when I return after Shabbat I will be able to take it." "How brilliant," they murmured.

"And did you find it?" asked Yankel the locksmith, who was very poor since no one had locks in Chelm. "No," replied the first candidate, "By the time I came back I couldn't find my shoe either. But it's OK. Next time I will leave my coat on top of it. This way I will surely find it."

The second hopeful looked at the crowed waiting in anticipation and began swaying back and forth, chanting his story in a sing song voice.

"One day I was sitting and resting in my rocking chair, when my wife turned to me and asked me to go close the door. 'Why me' I said, 'didn't I do it last night?' 'No matter,' she insisted, 'do it again.' You all know how stubborn my wife can be, so I refused.

We argued and argued until I had a thought. The first one who speaks will have to close the door. She immediately agreed. After a while both of us were at a standoff, neither of us had said a word. We went to bed still not saying a word. Suddenly in middle of the night I heard thieves in the house. They were taking all our silver and valuables. Still I didn't say a word. After a while they came to our bedroom and began to take our blankets as well. I nudged my wife, coughing loudly. 'Help, thieves!' she screamed. They fled with whatever they had, but then she had to get up and close the door."

The vote was unanimous!

The Rabbi's assistant was known for his forthrightness. One day a man died in the market place and the Rabbi asked him to go to the poor man's wife and break the news to her. "But," cautioned the Rabbi, "Do it gently." The assistant knocked on the door. "Does the widow Rachel live here?" "My name is Rachel but I'm not a widow." "You want to bet?" he asked.

Berel the Beadle - One day much to the surprise of the community the charity box was broken into and the money was stolen. "What do we do?" they all cried, wringing their hands. Berel was called in to solve the problem. "I know, let's suspend the box from the ceiling with a string, this way no one can steal it." It seemed like a good idea until they realized no one could put money into it either. "I know," continued Beryl, "I'll put up a ladder so anyone who wants to can put money in." "But what do we do about the old people who can't lift the ladder?" He thought and thought and came up with the perfect solution. He fastened the ladder to the floor and to the ceiling thus securing it tightly.

Zelig the wanderer - each town has its dreamer, someone who wishes he could know what it would be like living somewhere else. So it was with the tailor, Reb Zelig. Whenever a traveler would pass through he would sit at his feet and drink in every word like old wine, turning it round and round and savoring every taste.

One day he had enough and informed his wife he was on his way to Warsaw to see the great city. He put on his worn-through shoes, took a small bundle, and set off. After a few hours he came to a signpost. One side pointed to Chelm and the other to Warsaw.

Since he was hungry, he sat and ate his wife's sandwich, relaxing in the warm sun. How can you eat a good meal and not rest? So he decided to take a nap. "Ah, but how will I know which way it is to Warsaw when I awake?" he thought. "I know, I'll put my shoes under the sign pointing to Warsaw." With that brilliant thought he dozed off. While he was sleeping a beggar came along and looking at the shoes decided to take them, but after picking them up and seeing their condition he dropped them back, only this time they were pointing back at Chelm.

Reb Zelig woke up, put on his shoes and proceeded in the direction they pointed. Soon he noticed a village coming up. His face lit up. "It must be Warsaw," he exclaimed to himself, his pace quickening. "I wonder what kind of people live there?"

As he approached he noticed that the layout of the town looked similar to Chelm. Not only that, the potholes in the streets were also just like Chelm. "Hmm," he thought, "If I didn't know better..." As he entered he was astonished to see someone just like Shloime the fishmonger. "How's it going?" Shloime called out. "What friendly people," Zelig thought. He looked up and saw the synagogue. "How very strange," he kept thinking. He turned the corner and saw a street which was a carbon copy of his street. And what's this? There was a small boy playing in the mud who looked just like his Moishele.

As he stood watching a woman came out and began shouting. "Zelig you fool, stop standing there, dinner is ready." "Not only does she look like Sarah, she yells like her too. Such a wonder." Sure enough the food was as tasteless as it always was. "Unbelievable," he thought.

All night Zelig thought long and hard and came to the only conclusion possible. Warsaw was an exact copy of Chelm, even to the people. So now since he has no money left for the trip back he will remain, only he is a little worried. What will he do when the real Zelig comes home?

And finally the Rabbi, for if all of Chelm is wise surely he is the wisest.

One day the Rabbi was called to the neighboring town of Lublin for a Rabbinical Conference. Each of the rabbis tried to show how brilliant their powers were. The Rabbi of Lublin asked a riddle. "Who is my father's son but he is not my brother?" The other rabbis thought, but couldn't come up with the answer. "Me," replied the Rabbi triumphantly. The Rabbi of Chelm was very impressed with the riddle and couldn't wait to get home to tell it to his congregation.

That Friday night after his speech the people asked him to share some of the wisdom he had picked up at the conference. "OK," said the Rabbi, shaking back and forth and stroking his long grey beard, "Listen carefully, I am going to ask you a riddle. Who is this? He's my father's son but he's not my brother." The people of Chelm thought and thought, each one trying for an answer, but finally they all turned to the Rabbi. "We give up," they acknowledged.

"Simple," replied the wise sage, "He is the Rabbi of Lublin."