You Are Priceless: A Story About True Self-Worth

One day, a student came to his teacher, troubled and weighed down.

“Rebbe,” he said softly, “I’m coming to you because I can’t figure out how to deal with what I’m going through. Everyone around me says I’m worthless. They say I’m foolish, that I have no purpose. How can I change that? What do I need to do to become someone people respect?”

The teacher didn’t even look up. “I’m sorry, my dear student,” he said gently. “Right now, I’m busy with something of my own. Maybe later…”

Then, after a quiet moment, the teacher added, “Actually, if you help me with my issue quickly, perhaps I’ll be able to help you with yours.”

“Of course, Rebbe,” the student replied, though deep inside, he already felt dismissed and small.

The teacher took off a ring from his finger and handed it to the boy. “Take my horse,” he said, “and ride to the market. Try to sell this ring for me. I need the money. Try to get the best price you can but whatever you do, don’t sell it for less than one gold coin. Do you understand? Not a coin less.”

The student nodded, took the ring, and rode to the market. As he showed it around, the merchants leaned in with curiosity until he said the price. A gold coin? Most of them laughed. Others waved him off or turned away.

Only one older man stopped to explain kindly, “Son, no matter how pretty the ring is, a gold coin is far too much. It’s not worth that.”

Some offered him a bronze coin. A few offered silver. But he didn’t give in. His Rebbe had said not to sell it for less than gold. He tried every stall and every merchant. Embarrassed and disappointed, he climbed back on the horse and returned to his teacher.

“If I had a gold coin myself,” the boy thought, “I would just buy it from someone and pretend I sold the ring.”

Back in the teacher’s home, the student apologized. “I’m sorry, Rebbe. I failed. No one would pay a gold coin for the ring. I could have gotten two or three silver ones, but clearly, no one is fooled about its real worth.”

His teacher smiled. “You did exactly what I asked. But before we talk about your challenge, there’s one more thing. We still don’t know what the ring is truly worth. Go now to the local jeweler. He’s an expert. Show him the ring and ask how much he’d offer. But no matter what he says don’t sell it. Bring it back to me.”

So the student rode to the jeweler. The man examined the ring with his special magnifying glass. He weighed it, studied its detail, and then said, “Tell your Rebbe that if he wants to sell it today, I can offer 58 gold coins.”

“58 gold coins?!” the student gasped.

“Yes,” the jeweler nodded. “And if he waits a bit, I might even offer 70. But if it’s urgent, 58 is what I can do right now.”

The boy couldn’t believe it. He ran back, breathless, to his Rebbe.

When the teacher heard what the jeweler had said, he motioned to the boy to sit.

“You see, my son,” the Rebbe said with warmth, “you are just like that ring. A beautiful, one-of-a-kind treasure. But only an expert can recognize your true value. Did you really think that anyone at the noisy market could see your worth?”

He paused, then slipped the ring back on his finger. “We are all like that ring, rare and precious. And yet we go around expecting anyone to see it. But not everyone is a jeweler.”

Just as the ring’s value was misunderstood by those in the marketplace, so too our worth is often missed by others who aren’t trained or don’t take the time to look deeper. But the ones who know how to see the soul, to see the neshama, the spark of holiness inside every Jew, they can see what you’re really made of.

We must remember that our worth doesn’t come from others’ opinions. It comes from Hashem, who created us with a unique purpose. Sometimes it takes a wise teacher or someone who truly cares to help us see that value in ourselves.

From the book “Attention and Concentration” by Gilad Shama and Yechiel Elias.