In the days of yore, there were maggidim who traveled from village to village, imparting words of wisdom and rebuke through interesting stories and parables. These maggidim were blessed with the ability to fire the souls of their audience, to awaken the blatant spark lying dormant in the hearts of the Jewish villagers. Through their dramatic depictions and enjoyable wit, they held a mirror to the flaws of the Jewish community and inspired them to come closer to Hashem.

The Lubliner Maggid was one such traveling lecturer. Through his inspirational lectures and intriguing mashalim, he succeeded in bringing many Jews to teshuvah.

The following is a parable from the Lubliner Maggid, which he relayed in front of hundreds of Jews in the days leading up to Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

***
Edward was the only son of Duke Henry. Tall and handsome, with twinkling eyes and an engaging smile, he was his father’s pride and joy. Being that, as the only son, he stood to inherit his father’s wealth, property, and important position in the government, the finest tutors in the land were retained to teach Edward. 

The duke did not content himself with arranging for his son to be taught merely science and history. The boy who would one day carry the duchy on his shoulders needed an excellent command in many languages, so that he would be able to communicate with the various citizens that lived on his property. He needed to learn how to relate to his subjects with kindness and objectivity, to rule fairly and wisely, so that his lands would flourish.

As Edward studied with his tutors in the well-stocked library of his father’s mansion, his intelligent head picked up his studies quickly and ably. After a few years of learning together, his level of knowledge rose to meet that of his tutors, and his father hired others, smarter and more knowledgeable scholars, to teach his bright son.

But soon the young boy’s grasp succeeded that of these new tutors as well, and it was clear that he was ready for something more. “If Your Excellency wishes for his son to learn from the best, most knowledgeable teachers in the world, then we advise you to send him to faraway Holland, where there is a special school catering to the most gifted of students.”

“Tell me more,” the duke said, stroking his mustache.

“Only a few select applicants, the brightest students in the world, are accepted there each year, and the tuition fees are very steep,” the tutor continued earnestly. “But the graduates of this school are unparalleled in their wisdom and knowledge, and they immediately rise to the top of whichever field they choose to pursue. If you would like Edward to truly achieve the greatest heights imaginable, this is the school he needs to attend.”

Duke Henry did his research and discovered that the tutor had not exaggerated. The school in Holland, a military-style academy, prided itself on its robust curriculum and high caliber student body. Its alumni, one after the next, were big names in society, famous for their historic contributions on the world stage. Indeed, it was a school worthy of its impeccable reputation. It did not take long for the duke to set his heart on this very school for his only son.

On the duke’s behest, the tutors wrote to the school, describing Edward’s exceptional mind and high social standing. They submitted some of the boy’s essays and a brilliant scientific thesis, and the dean of the school was suitably impressed. It did not take long for an acceptance letter to arrive in the mail from faraway Holland, delighting the duke, the tutors, and young Edward himself.

It took some time to prepare the duke’s son for the journey. He needed an entire wardrobe sewn up, beautiful and brand new, as befit the heir to the duke’s throne. A slew of brilliant tutors were hired to join Edward in the school and assist him in absorbing the lessons he would learn there. The duke’s staff scurried about, crossing off items on a never-ending list of preparations that needed to be completed before Edward would board his father’s carriage and depart toward Holland.

The long awaited day finally dawned, and Edward parted from his father with an emotional handshake and a promise to send a letter every day from when he reached the academy. With a pile of trunks lining the storage compartment of the carriage and a heavy sack of coins nestled in his pocket, he slowly climbed the stairs of the coach that was to take him toward the next stage in his future.

They traveled nonstop for more than two days, and the duke’s son felt his mind grow numb with fatigue. The comfortable coach was a far cry from his kingly bed in his father’s mansion, and he had trouble sleeping as the carriage wheels jostled with the bumps and curves on the road. His muscles felt stiff and his head ached.

“John,” he called crankily to the driver. “Let’s stop off overnight at a hotel. I’m exhausted.”

The driver frowned. “I truly apologize, sir, but on your noble father’s orders, we must head straight to the academy without stopping. You can sleep here on the coach as I drive.”

He gestured at his co-driver, Philip, who was now snoring lightly in the seat beside him. “In just another few days, Your Excellency, we will arrive at our destination. The carriage seats are very comfortable, and you can rest on them, just as Philip is doing now, and just as I will do when it’s his turn to drive.”

Edward grunted but didn’t deign to reply. He turned his weary head and gazed unseeingly out the window. Accustomed to a life of comfort and indulgence, he wasn’t able to fall asleep on the uneven roads as Philip so easily had, but he pursed his lips and resolved to try again.

Over the next few days, he grew progressively more tired and, proportionately, crankier. He slept for not more than a few hours at a time, and an annoying crick had settled in his neck from the awkward angle he was forced to lay in. Time and again, he entreated the drivers to stop off at a hotel, where they would eat a good meal, sleep a good night, and refresh themselves.

“Your Excellency, we are only two days away from the academy,” Philip tried explaining. It was his shift at the wheel, and it was turning out to be a very trying shift, with the duke’s son’s relentless badgering. “We’ve traveled almost a week already, and we’re nearly there! Just try to hold out two more days and then you’ll get a bed in the academy, where you’ll absorb the most amazing knowledge in the world…”

While descriptions of his future schooling served as good bait earlier in the journey, at this point, Edward was too worn out to follow this train of thought. “If we’re almost there, then let’s stop off to refresh ourselves,” he countered moodily. “I’m using my authority as the duke’s son to command you to obey me,” he continued harshly. “Let us stop off at a hotel now, Phillip.”

Philip exchanged a helpless glance with his co-driver, John, who had awoken in the interim and was now sitting up groggily in his seat. It was useless arguing with Edward. With a sigh, he turned the horses in the direction of the nearest city.

Less than an hour later, the coach pulled up at a beautiful, five-star hotel. Edward let out a tremendous sigh of relief as he jumped out of the carriage and stretched his atrophying muscles. As Philip tended to the horses, he followed John into the hotel and waited for him to rent a room.

From behind the desk, the innkeeper took in John’s professional uniform and Edward’s splendid, though rumpled, attire. It was clear to him that the weary travelers were cash cows just waiting to be milked. “Sirs,” he said with exaggerated grace. “Let me show you to my finest quarters, as befits men of your stature.”

“Edward, here, is the son of Duke Henry,” John explained. “I am his driver.”

“Of course,” the innkeeper said magnanimously. “Follow me, Your Excellency, and I will show you to a room where you can refresh yourself. When you awake, a lavish meal will be awaiting you.”

“Thank you,” Edward mumbled, stumbling wearily after the man.

He was shown to a sumptuous room, equipped with more luxuries than his own room back home. “Our kingly suite,” the innkeeper said proudly, his mind crunching dollar signs as he thought of the fees he charged for the use of the suite. “Only the best for our noble guest.”

The duke’s son barely noticed his surroundings, however. As soon as the door closed behind the innkeeper and John, affording him privacy, he collapsed into the plush bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

He slept and slept for many hours as his depleted body finally found the rest it had craved for so many days. When he finally awoke, refreshed and invigorated, he was pleased to take in the beauty and lavishness of his accommodations. He washed up and changed his clothes, and then he opened the door to his room to find his drivers.

Phillip was sitting on a comfortable armchair outside of his room, and he looked up when Edward emerged. “Sir,” he said, standing up hastily. “Come, they’ve prepared a meal for you, and then we will be on our way.”

A servant appeared and led them to the dining hall, a richly appointed room with gorgeous draperies. The table was groaning under the weight of what seemed to Edward to be hundreds of delectable dishes, and even he, the son of one of the wealthiest men in the country, was impressed. When he tasted the food, he was not disappointed. Each dish was perfectly done and tasted better than the delicacies produced by his cook back home.

Observing from the sidelines, the innkeeper rubbed his hands together, imagining the money that he would earn from this one guest. One thing was clear to him: he needed to entice Edward to remain at the hotel longer. The longer Edward stayed, the more money he would generate for the innkeeper.

“And how is our young nobleman faring?” he called gallantly, stepping up to the table where Edward was dining. “How did you find the bed, your room? How is the meal?”

“Excellent, excellent,” The duke’s son quickly responded, meaning every word. After nearly a week on the road, he truly felt like a king.

“You know, sir, that I am a professional boxer,” the innkeeper commented suddenly. “If you’ll stay here another day, I’d be happy to teach you some tricks.”

Edward raised his eyes from his plate. “Thank you, but that’s not really my cup of tea,” he said politely. “Although I’d be happy to stay another day anyway. The journey was awful, and right now I can’t stomach the thought of getting back into the coach.”

From behind him, the two carriage drivers were about to protest, but Edward turned around and shot them a warning glare. They knew better than to try to argue with him when his mind was made up.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of luxurious enjoyment. Edward was plied with the finest meals and entertained by witty conversationalists. He enjoyed a cleansing bath in the large, copper tub that stood in the corner of his room, and sunk under his feather comforter for another long, relaxing sleep.

The next day passed in a similar fashion to the first. The innkeeper had no shortage of diversionary tactics up his sleeve, and he employed them with flattery and finesse to con an unsuspecting Edward into extending his stay again and again. A musical performance was planned for the next day, causing him to postpone his departure, and then a party was scheduled for the following week, pushing off his departure even more.

Back in the duke’s palace, Duke Henry eagerly awaited his son’s letters from school. He missed Edward and longed for a glimpse into his son’s experiences and academic progress. The days passed, but the postman did not appear. According to schedule, Edward was supposed to have reached the academy weeks earlier, and the duke began to worry.

When some more time passed and he still did not receive a single letter from his son, the duke sent a messenger to the academy to check up on his son’s wellbeing. It took a full month for the messenger to reach the school, conduct his investigation, and return to the mansion, and when he came back, the news he bore was sobering.

Edward had never arrived at the academy.

Duke Henry let out a deep moan of pain. Where was his son?! Had he been kidnapped along the way? Murdered? Was he lost and alone, wandering the countryside penniless?

“I will set out myself to search for him,” the duke announced grimly. He arranged a committee of thirty of his ablest servants to join him in the search, and they set out in the direction of the school, determined to hunt down every lingering clue that would lead them to the missing boy.

The search was a very difficult undertaking and took a long time. They combed the woods and the towns along the route Edward had taken, but found no evidence that the duke’s son had ever been there. There was absolutely no witnesses who had seen him, and no signs of struggle that would indicate foul play.

The exhausted members of the search team stopped to rest from time to time, but the duke did not allow himself the luxury of relaxing his weary limbs for too long. How could he rest when his beloved son had disappeared? “You’ll catch up with me when you’re ready,” he would murmur to his men, leaving them lying on their blankets on the ground as he pressed forward in search of Edward.

By the time they covered more than three-quarters of the route to the academy with no success, the search committee was feeling down and hopeless. As they rested their aching muscles beside their carriages, grumbling about the absolute lack of progress, the duke stood up, ready to continue. He indicated to them to continue resting until they felt ready to continue and began walking toward the next town. As always, he allowed himself a tiny seed of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this would be the town where they would find a clue leading them to his son!

The streets were quiet, and the few people he stopped had no information to offer him. They hadn’t seen Edward and hadn’t heard of an accident or highway gang in the vicinity. The duke absorbed this silently and trudged onward.

Up ahead, the beautiful façade of an elegant hotel loomed. Duke Henry stared at it for a moment. He was hungry, and it looked like the kind of place that could provide a good meal. Making a quick decision, he walked briskly inside.

A servant greeted him cordially and led him to the dining room, assuring him that he would be served a delicious, hot meal. The duke smiled and entered the large, well-designed room.

The first thing he saw was Edward.

Edward! His missing son!

Edward was sitting at a table, laughing at something his companion was saying. A half-full glass of liquor stood at his elbow, wisps of smoke rising from the succulent steak on his plate. He was alive and happy and doing well!

“My dear Edward!” his father cried, emotion making his voice hoarse.

The truant boy turned around, color rising to his cheeks as he made eye contact with the duke. “Father!” he cried, contrite, standing up and rushing into his father’s waiting arms. “Father, I am so sorry!”

“My son,” his father murmured, over and over. “My dear, beloved son. You can’t imagine how much I suffered not knowing where you were. I am so happy to see you! But tell me, please, what happened to you?”

Edward hung his head, shame pouring over him like a bucket of hot water. “Please forgive me, Father,” he pleaded apologetically. “I stopped off here to rest a few months ago, and somehow I never made it back onto the road to continue my studies. That conniving innkeeper! Every day, he thought of another idea to get me to stay longer. He must have been after my money, and I was too weak to resist. Take me away from him, Father! I want to go to the academy to learn.”

***

The Lubliner Maggid explains the nimshal to this parable.

A neshamah is sent down to this world and is tasked with a specific mission: to overcome nisyonos and become complete. It is provided with all the tutors and advisors it needs to help it succeed in life: a family, rabbeim, mentors, and friends.

But the yetzer harah sees gold, and he’s not about to let us get away with completing our mission just like that. Every day, he comes with another small distraction to keep us away from our destination for just a little more time. We would never willingly abandon the most prestigious academy for a good meal in a hotel, but the yetzer harah succeeds in distracting us one day at a time in the hopes that we will never reach where our neshamos truly want to go.

But there are ten days a year when Hashem asks, “Where is My son? Where did he go? I sent him down, far down below to Earth, where he was given a mission. He never got to his destination! Where did he go? I must go find him!”

And during the ten days of Aseres Yemei Teshuvah, Hashem comes looking for us. All of a sudden, every one of us feels an awakening to do teshuvah. Some of us feel it more, some less, but without question, all of us feel our Father searching for us.

This is our chance to respond to Hashem’s query. “Tatte, I am here! I got caught up in all sorts of foolishness, but I know it’s not worth anything. I want to come home! Please take me away from here!”

So many people feel that they are so far away from Hashem, they have done too many things that have harmed their soul, that it is too long of a journey to come back. But during Aseres Yemei Teshuva, we don’t even have to go far. Hashem comes searching for us; all we need to do is answer His call and ask Him to take us back.

Have a Wonderful Shabbos!