One of the greatest disciples of the holy Baal Shem Tov zt”l was the tzadik, Reb Leib Sarah’s [ben Sarah] zt”l (1730-1791), who was known to travel far and wide, sustaining and supporting hidden tzadikim and uncovering sparks of holiness in far-flung places. It is told that on one Motza’ei Shabbos, Reb Leib Sarah’s suddenly felt a Divine presence tugging at his conscience, urging him to travel to a far-off land, where an unusually bright spark of greatness was hidden and needed to be uncovered. Reb Leib, the great mystic in faraway Ukraine, perceived that in Hungary there existed an exalted soul that was waiting to be redeemed. Early the next morning, he set out on his holy calling, to locate and cultivate the hidden spark of k’dushah.

Reb Leib Sarah’s followed the direction the spirit was taking him and made his way to the outskirts of a little Hungarian town known as Kalev. Walking through the outer fields, he heard a young boy who was tending to a gaggle of geese, singing a beautiful tune. He moved closer to hear the song and the lament in the boy’s sweet and melodious voice. Reb Leib Sarah’s was awestruck upon hearing the song and could not pull himself away. Finally, he asked the lad who taught him the song.

“It’s a song every shepherd around here knows,” said the child. And here he sang the song again, as it once was:

“Forest, O forest, how vast are you? Rose, O rose, how distant you are? Were the forest not so vast, My rose wouldn’t be so far. Who will guide me out of the forest, and unite me with my rose?”

Then the boy said, “I have a different variation to this song,” and he sang it in the version Reb Leib Sarah’s had overheard:

“Exile, O exile, how vast are you? Shechinah, O Shechinah, how distant you are! Were the exile not so vast, the Shechinah wouldn’t be so far. Who will guide me out of the exile, and unite me with the Shechinah?”

“What is your name, my child?” Reb Leib asked in amazement.

“My name is Yitzchak, but they call me Isaac,” the boy answered. “I tend to the geese to support my widowed mother.”

“And what do you do out here all day long?” Reb Leib asked. “I sing songs,” young Yitzchak Isaac answered.

“Can you sing this one again for me?” Reb Leib asked. The boy began to sing again with a sweet, crystal-clear voice.

Reb Leib’s tears poured profusely down his cheeks and he kissed young Yitzchak Isaac. He accompanied the boy to his home and told his mother that he wanted to take him to study Torah, and that he would regularly send her money in order for her to support herself. The woman reluctantly agreed, and she blessed her child and sent him off with Reb Leib, who took him to the yeshivah of the renowned chasidic master, Reb Shmelke of Nikolsburg zt”l (1726-1778), where young Yitzchak Isaac became an outstanding Torah scholar and rebbe. His knowledge of both nigleh and nistar – the revealed and the mystical aspects of Torah – was legendary. Returning home to Hungary, he became a melamed (teacher) in the Jewish community of Nagy Kallo. Within a short time, he was named the Rabbi of Kalev, serving 40 years and gaining thousands of new followers for the chasidic movement.

From then on, Reb Yitzchak Isaac Kalever zt”l made it a habit to walk in the outer pastures to listen to the melodies sung by the shepherds. And like the man who discovered him, Reb Leib Sarah’s, the Kalever chanced upon a shepherd surrounded by his flock and singing a Hungarian love song with the words, “Szol a Kakash Mahr [The Rooster Crows].” The melody could never be forgotten. Moved to tears by the song, the Kalever insisted on buying it from the shepherd. At the request of the Kalever, who wished to memorize the song, the shepherd sang the song once, then twice, but on his third attempt he could not recall the song at all. The Rebbe did, however, and forever after, the niggun belonged again to the Jews. Many times, the Kalever said about the song “that it was once chanted by the Levites in the Holy Temple and was in exile among the unlearned common people.”

One cannot hear a melody of the Kalever Rebbe and not be touched. Chasidim sitting in the darkness of the dusk late Shabbos afternoon at shalosh seudos often sing the revised song of the shepherd. The melody is a penetrating one, arousing a craving for closeness to Hashem, and a prayer that He bring our bitter exile to an end, so that we can join the Divine Presence in the Sanctuary in Jerusalem.


Rabbi Dovid Hoffman is the author of the popular “Torah Tavlin” book series, filled with stories, wit and hundreds of divrei Torah, including the brand new “Torah Tavlin Yamim Noraim” in stores everywhere. You’ll love this popular series. Also look for his book, “Heroes of Spirit,” containing one hundred fascinating stories on the Holocaust. They are fantastic gifts, available in all Judaica bookstores and online at http://israelbookshoppublications.com. To receive Rabbi Hoffman’s weekly “Torah Tavlin” sheet on the parsha, e-mail This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.