“I’m sorry to bother you in middle of the day like this, but I’ve come to plead with you,” Reb Yisroel began
Sergie Palvo was one of the most powerful rulers in his district. His wealth was built by the heavy taxes he levied on all who owned real estate, inns, and taverns. He was tough; pity to the man who was late in paying his dues. His physical appearance was enough to intimidate even the worst of the ruffians living on the streets. Built like a bear, Sergie was not to be crossed.
A knock on Sergie’s door one day took him by surprise. He was not expecting anyone.
“Enter!”
In walked Reb Yisroel, a pious, hardworking Yid who earned his income operating several of the local taverns. His business had always provided enough money for his family and he was never late in paying his dues to Sergie Palvo, the demanding poritz.
“I’m sorry to bother you in middle of the day like this, but I’ve come to plead with you,” Reb Yisroel began, tugging nervously at the long tzitzis strings hanging from underneath his black coat. “My businesses have not been as successful as previously, and this month money is scarce.”
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