Little Bean

Once upon a time there was a couple who did not have children, and they often went to the cemetery,* where they prayed to have a child. One day, as they were praying, an angel flew down from heaven and told them: “God has heard your prayers. Which would you prefer: to have a son who will be no bigger than a bean, or a daughter who, when she is thirteen, will abandon Judaism for another faith?”

“Better,” they said, “to have a son no bigger than a bean.” A year went by and they had a son who was indeed no bigger than a bean. And he never grew any bigger, which is why he was called Little Bean.

One day when the mother was preparing a meal, she poured what she was cooking into an earthen pot and gave it to Little Bean to take to his father in the marketplace. Little Bean, delighted with the task, put the pot on his head and ran off to his father.

He ran and he ran and he ran until he met an old beggar. The beggar said, “It’s three days since any food has passed my lips.” Little Bean pitied him and gave him all of his father’s meal. The beggar thanked him warmly: “God bless your little bones. May the light of happiness and good fortune shine on you.”

When the beggar had done eating, Little Bean put the empty pot on his head and started off at a run. He ran and he ran and he ran until he met a gang of thieves.

“Where are you off to so fast?” they said.

“I’m running to tell my father that I’ve given his supper to a beggar,” he said.

“Well, if you’re so nice, we’ll take you into our gang and you can come stealing with us.”

Little Bean wanted to say, “Stealing is forbidden,” but he was afraid they would kill him, so he said, “Good. I’ll join you.”

They went on together until they came to a locked stable. And as the thieves were looking the place over, Little Bean leaped up into the keyhole and disappeared.

The thieves wondered, “Where did the little fellow get to? He was here just a minute ago.” They searched everywhere but couldn’t find him. In the end they left.

Little Bean looked around and hid in a tub of chopped beets, and so the cow ate him up with the beets. When Little Bean saw how dark it was in the cow’s belly, and found that there was no way to get out, he was very angry. “The devil take you!” he shouted at the cow. “I hope the cholera gets you.”

In the morning a servant who was milking the cow heard someone shouting. “The devil take you! I hope the cholera gets you.” So frightened she was, more dead than alive, she ran out of the stable. “Mistress,” she cried, “the cow is cursing!”

“Don’t be a fool,” said her mistress. “I’ve never heard of a cursing cow.” She went to the stable to milk the cow herself, but as she was milking, she heard someone cry, “The devil take you! I hope the cholera gets you.” More dead than alive, the woman ran to the rabbi and told him the whole story. The rabbi said, “Kill the cow and throw the innards into the street.”

The next morning the shoykhet, the butcher, came and killed the cow. Just as he was cutting the cow’s stomach to take out the innards, he heard a voice that cried, “Don’t cut from the belly, cut from the side.” The shoykhet too was frightened, and he began to cut from the side. Little by little he drew out the innards, which he threw into the street.

A hungry beggar passing by saw the fresh innards and thought, “God has sent me a real gift. I’ll take these home and cook a fine meal.” So he put them into his sack, slung the sack over his shoulder, and went happily on his way.

He walked and he walked and he walked, when suddenly he felt something stabbing his shoulder. Since he couldn’t imagine what it was, he ignored it and continued on. But as he walked, something stabbed his shoulder again. “I wonder what that can be,” he thought. “I don’t have any pins in the sack, nothing there but soft innards. Then what’s stabbing me?” Again he tried to ignore it, but the farther he went the sharper the stabs, until finally he couldn’t stand them.

He stopped and said to himself, “Shall I throw the innards away? But that would be sinful, and I’d have nothing to eat. But if I keep carrying them, who knows what will happen to my shoulder? It’s a bad business.”

Then he heard someone call, “Throw them away. Throw them away.” Frightened, he threw the innards into the street. As he stood looking, he saw a tiny boy, no larger than a bean, creep out of them. The beggar recognized Little Bean at once. “You’re the boy who gave me his father’s supper to eat,” he said.

“That’s me,” said Little Bean.

“Then what were you doing in there?” asked the beggar. And Little Bean told him the whole story.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk,” said the beggar. “What strange things can happen in this world.”

“I was afraid you would eat me for supper,” Little Bean said.

“Well, do you want to go home?” asked the beggar.

“Yes,” Little Bean said, “I want to go home.”

So they went to Little Bean’s house, and when his father and mother saw him they cried, “Little Bean! Where were you?” And Little Bean told them the whole story.

A rooster and a hen …

Now my story’s begun.

A cat and a mouse …

Now my story is done.

* There is a belief that ancestors, particularly deceased parents and grandparents, can intercede on one’s behalf in heaven. For this reason, Jews sometimes went to the cemetery to pray that a particular wish be granted.

* * *

* * *

Absolutely loving that there was no moral to this.