A Lesson from Reb Shmuel Munks

In a small town in Russia, a group of chassidim sat in the study hall late on a Friday night, farbrenging.

They shared words of Torah, sang soul-stirring melodies, lifted their spirits with joy — and of course, with a cup of l’chaim: “Great is the drink that brings hearts together.”

Time passed, and the food was gone. Reb Shmuel Munks quickly left to bring something more. Within minutes he returned, holding a steaming pot filled with fragrant meat.

The hungry chassidim leaned forward, eager for a taste.

But to their surprise, Reb Shmuel refused to put the pot down.

“No one may eat from this,” he insisted.

The others grew upset. “Why not? Give it to us!” they pressed him. But he held on tightly — and before they could grab it, he dumped the entire pot into the trash.

The room erupted: “What have you done? You wasted food! You violated bal tashchit (the Torah’s prohibition against needless destruction)!”

At that very moment, the town’s shochet burst in.

“Friends — don’t touch that dish! It came from an animal whose kosher status was in serious doubt.”

Stunned, the chassidim turned to Reb Shmuel. “How did you know? Do you have ruach hakodesh (divine inspiration)?”

Reb Shmuel shook his head. “No. When I first traveled to the Alter Rebbe, I made a resolution: if I ever feel an unusually strong craving for something physical, I will give it up. When I held that pot, I felt such a powerful urge to taste it — and I saw the same desire in all of you — that I knew something wasn’t right. Better to throw it away than risk eating it.”

And indeed, his instinct saved them.

The Message:

Sometimes, when a craving feels too strong and unexplainable, it may not be pure at all — it could be the yetzer hara (our inner negative impulse) trying to trip us up in a deeper way. True strength is to pause, resist, and rise above.