The mighty tribunal determined that the soul was destined to hover aimlessly between Heaven and Earth until God Himself should take pity and beckon the soul unto Him.
The soul howled in agony at the verdict and pled for mercy.
The Heavenly shammos wept for the poor soul. Taking pity on it, the shammos offered the soul a glimmer of hope. “Fly down and hover close to the world of the living …and when you’ve brought three appropriate gifts, rest assured – the Gates of Paradise will open to you; the gifts will do their work.”
The soul hovered close to earth for century upon century until finally it collected its first two gifts: a bit of earth from the Holy Land mixed with the blood of a Jewish martyr, and a pin soaked with the blood of a modest and pious Jewess, also martyred.
Only one more gift was needed – but what could that gift be?
After centuries more of searching, the soul landed in a camp prison yard. There, two long rows of soldiers faced each other, creating a narrow passage between them through which an old, emaciated Jew was pushed, prodded, and beaten.
The soul viewed the torture of this poor man with horror and sadness. The dignity the old Jew managed to maintain was remarkable, but his calm seemed only to incite these soldiers to greater brutality.
And then the Jew fell to his knees.
A moment later, he was dead.
The hovering soul came closer. There, in the mud, it saw the murdered man’s forgotten yarmulke. It collected the unobserved yarmulke, the dirtied piece of cloth that had earned the man so many wicked blows, and carried it up to Heaven. There, this third gift was accepted as “truly beautiful. Unusually beautiful.”
The soul then entered Paradise and eternal rest.
