A Letter from the Chofetz Chaim That Reveals His True Greatness

In the book The New Chofetz Chaim, there's a remarkable story that sheds light on the incredible sensitivity Torah scholars had when it came to honesty. For them, even the smallest coin that didn’t rightfully belong to them felt like a burning coal in their pocket. Just as one instinctively pulls away from fire, these spiritual giants distanced themselves from even a trace of dishonesty.

This particular story took place when the Chofetz Chaim was still a young man. To support himself, he raised a cow in his home and sold its milk. But he didn’t just bring any cow into his house—he was careful to choose a cow without horns, so it wouldn’t hurt anyone. Even then, he was already thinking about how his choices might affect others.

At one point, he decided to leave home for a few days to go study alone in a nearby town’s beit midrash (study hall). One of his close companions joined him on the way.

As they walked, the Chofetz Chaim turned to his companion and said he needed to get an important message to his wife back in Radin. “I’ll give you a sealed note,” he said. “Please return home and deliver it to my wife.”

The companion was burning with curiosity. After all, it wasn’t every day one got to carry a personal letter from the Chofetz Chaim to his wife. He tried to resist, but temptation got the better of him. He gently opened the letter… and stood frozen in surprise.

The note contained no personal affection or family updates. The Chofetz Chaim had written to his wife about something that deeply concerned him: market day was coming up, and non-Jewish farmers would be passing by their home in Radin with their produce. He asked her to please keep a close eye on the cow and make sure it didn’t wander too close to the fence—just in case it might reach out and take even the smallest taste of someone else’s produce.

He then added a heartfelt reminder: even taking something worth less than a perutah (the smallest coin in Jewish law) from a non-Jew is strictly forbidden.

This is what was weighing on his mind as he traveled away from home—not his own comfort or convenience, but the possibility that his cow might, even unintentionally, take something that didn’t belong to them.

It’s worth pausing to think about this. Imagine the peace and joy of someone who truly believes that their parnassah (livelihood) has already been decided in Heaven—from one Rosh Hashanah (Jewish New Year) to the next. Such a person doesn’t feel pressure to chase every opportunity or cut corners to get ahead. They do what they can, but they place their trust in Hashem, who holds all the world’s silver and gold in His hands.

The Chofetz Chaim lived this faith. And because he believed so deeply that nothing comes from dishonesty—not even a crumb—he found calm and confidence in the path of truth.

From the beautiful book Mitzvot with Joy, edited