01-22-2008, 09:31 PM
There was a Rabbi going to retire. He wanted a souvenir of his time as a Rabbi, so he took the jar of foreskins he removed during circumcisions to a leather shop and asked him to make something very special to remember his life.
The leather-worker said, I can do this, come back in a week.
The Rabbi returned and the leather-worker handed him with a wallet.
The Rabbi was furious. 'A wallet? I spend my life as a man of the cloth and you hand me a wallet?'
The leather worker just speechless. The Rabbi replied, You have nothing to say? The craftsman said, in 30 years I've never seen anything like this before. Every time I tried to polish it, the strangest thing happens. Every time I rub it, it turns into a suitcase!
The leather-worker said, I can do this, come back in a week.
The Rabbi returned and the leather-worker handed him with a wallet.
The Rabbi was furious. 'A wallet? I spend my life as a man of the cloth and you hand me a wallet?'
The leather worker just speechless. The Rabbi replied, You have nothing to say? The craftsman said, in 30 years I've never seen anything like this before. Every time I tried to polish it, the strangest thing happens. Every time I rub it, it turns into a suitcase!
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We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered.
We cross our bridges when we come to them and burn them behind us, with nothing to show for our progress except a memory of the smell of smoke, and a presumption that once our eyes watered.
