The Wise Folk of Chelm

The traditional Chelm stories retold below are in the public domain. The “original” Yiddish versions were themselves adaptations of earlier German non-Jewish sources. In turn, those German sources derived from medieval satires. Folklorists have collected Chelm-like tales in almost every culture.

Chelm could be anywhere. In fact, Chelm is everywhere. And the most wonderful thing about Chelm is that you can laugh at its inhabitants without worrying about being “politically correct.”

Tzeitel, the wife of Berel the Butcher, buttered a piece of bread and accidentally dropped it. Berel and Tzeitel were amazed! The slice of bread landed on the floor buttered side up!

Now, it is well-known among Chelmers that when a slice of buttered bread falls to the floor, it always falls buttered side down! This is like a commandment, a law etched in stone. So why had it fallen buttered side up?

The issue was referred to the council of the elders of Chelm. They discussed it for seven days and seven nights (the traditional amount of discussion, without which no decision in Chelm could ever be rendered).

The decision was delivered by the mayor who called upon Tzeitel and informed her, “My dear Tzeitel, the entire council of Chelm agrees that a slice of buttered bread always falls buttered side down. Therefore, it has been declared that you buttered your slice of bread on the wrong side!”

The shammes (synagogue attendant) of Chełm knocked on doors at sunrise to call folks to the synagogue for morning prayers. Whenever it snowed, Chelmers complained that it was impossible to enjoy the natural beauty of the snowfall because, by the time they awakened, the shammes had ruined the vista with his crisscrossing footfalls. They complained to the elders who met for seven days and seven nights to discuss how the shammes could wake up the town on a snowy morning without spoiling the pristine snow.

In the end, the elders devised a solution. Whenever snow was fresh on the ground, the shammes was directed to sit on a table. Four volunteers then lifted the table and carried the shammes through the town. Nevermore did the footsteps of the shammes of Chelm tarnish the snow!

One rainy season, the downpours threatened never to end, the roads became impassable, puddles became miniature lakes, and rivers of mud flowed down the mountain. The town council was concerned. Chelmers could not shop, children had to be carried from place to place, and even visiting the necessary presented an existential danger.

Seven days and seven nights of discussion and debate resulted in the Rain Wall Plan. The elders agreed to empty the town treasury to build a six-foot wall around the entire village of Chelm to keep the rain out. Despite the terrible conditions in which the workmen struggled, the wall was duly erected. Unfortunately, the rain would not cooperate. It continued to fall even inside the Rain Wall!

The elders met again. Their plight was dire. They had plenty of rain and no more money in the town treasury. After seven days and seven nights of additional discussion, it was decided to switch the meaning of the words. In this way, the town of Chelm suddenly had very much money and no more rain.

The rabbi of Chelm was well-versed in his chosen profession which was to say that he had answers for the many thought-provoking questions that Chelmers asked.

When the rabbi was asked, “Which is more important–the sun or the moon?” he never hesitated, but replied, “The moon, of course. The sun shines in the day when we have plenty of light anyway, but the moon shines at night when we desperately need its light!”

“Rabbi,” a Chelmer asked, “does Chelm have a future?”

The rabbi responded, “Not to worry, my child. Chelm definitely has a future and we can expect it any day now.”

“Rabbi,” another Chelmer asked, “why is the ocean salty?”

The rabbi shook his head. “Just think,” he said, “is the ocean not filled with herring?”