The Gemara in Ta'anit, on page 19b, recounts a remarkable story. During a period of drought, when pilgrims ascended to Jerusalem for the holidays, there was insufficient water for them to drink. A wealthy individual named Nakdimon ben Gurion approached a prominent Gentile, who possessed abundant water in his cisterns. Nakdimon requested a loan of twelve wells of water to provide for the pilgrims, promising to repay the exact amount. If he failed to return the water by an agreed-upon deadline, he would pay twelve talents of silver—an exorbitant sum.
The deadline arrived, but no rain had fallen. The Gentile approached Nakdimon in the morning, demanding either the water or the silver. Nakdimon replied that the day was not yet over, implying he had until sunset. The Gentile returned in the afternoon, repeating his demand. Nakdimon again asserted that he still had time. The Gentile mocked him, saying, "The entire year it did not rain. Do you truly believe it will rain now, between the afternoon prayer and sunset, enough to fill twelve cisterns?" The Gentile then entered a bathhouse in joy, confident of his impending victory.
Meanwhile, Nakdimon ben Gurion, as the Maharshal notes, entered the Temple in distress. He wrapped himself in his prayer shawl and prayed, "Master of the Universe, it is revealed and known before You that I did not do this for my own glory, nor for the glory of my family, but for Your glory, so that the pilgrims may have water." Immediately, the sky filled with rain clouds. Not only did the cisterns fill, but they overflowed. As the Gentile emerged from the bathhouse, Nakdimon exited the Temple. They met, and Nakdimon declared, "I have repaid you, and more. Now you must compensate me for the excess water."
The Gentile responded, "I know that God created all this commotion in the world only for your sake. You must have prayed, and this is a miracle. However, I still have a claim against you. It is true that you brought rain at the last minute, but it was past the deadline. It is already sunset, and those rains came into my possession after the agreed time. Therefore, you still owe me the money."
Nakdimon re-entered the Temple, wrapped himself in his prayer shawl, and prayed again, "Master of the Universe, show that You have beloved ones in this world." Immediately, the clouds scattered, and the sun shone forth. This was a miracle, as it was truly past sunset, but God caused the sun to reappear to demonstrate that Nakdimon was a righteous man and that the miracle was for the Jewish people. The Gentile then conceded, "If the sun had not pierced the clouds, I would still have a claim against you. But since the sun reappeared on your account, I have no claim."
The Maharsha elaborates on several points in this story. He notes that Nakdimon's offer to pay twelve talents of silver was a symbolic gesture, referencing the twelve tribes of Israel. The dispute over the deadline stemmed from a difference in custom: for Jews, a new day begins at nightfall, while for Gentiles, it begins in the morning. The Gentile, therefore, demanded payment in the morning, believing the day had ended. Nakdimon, however, maintained that the entire day, until sunset, belonged to him. The Maharsha explains that the Gentile's act of going to the bathhouse was a deliberate act of derision, flaunting his abundance of water while the Jews suffered from drought. Nakdimon's subsequent demand for compensation for excess water was also a form of mockery, mirroring the Gentile's earlier taunts.
The Gentile's seemingly contradictory statements—acknowledging the miracle yet still demanding payment—are clarified by the Maharsha. The Gentile believed that while Nakdimon's prayer was miraculously answered, the timing of the rain, after the deadline, meant the water fell into his possession, thus obligating Nakdimon to pay the silver. The second miracle, the reappearance of the sun, proved that the rain had actually fallen before the deadline, making Nakdimon's repayment valid.
The Gemara then states that three righteous individuals had the sun appear miraculously for them: Moses, Joshua, and Nakdimon ben Gurion. The story of Nakdimon has just been recounted. For Joshua, the verse states, "Sun, stand still upon Gibeon; and you, Moon, in the valley of Aijalon," when he was fighting a war, allowing him to complete his victory. For Moses, the Gemara uses a textual analogy (Gezerah Shavah) based on the word "begin" to connect the sun miracle to him. Rabbi Shmuel ben Nahmani offers a different textual analogy, connecting it to the word "terror." Rabbi Yohanan explains that the entire world heard about Moses's reputation when the sun miraculously stayed up, as such a global event would be universally observed, unlike news that would require modern communication.
The Gemara then discusses a verse that speaks of rain falling on one city but not another, stating that "both are a curse." Rashi explains that if too much rain falls, it can destroy the crops, while no rain at all leads to drought. Thus, both scenarios are detrimental. The Gemara interprets the verse "Jerusalem has become like a menstruating woman among them" as a blessing. Just as a menstruating woman eventually becomes purified, so too will Jerusalem ultimately be cleansed and restored. The Maharsha notes that the Targum interprets "menstruating woman" here not as a woman in a state of ritual impurity, but from the root of "wandering," implying the city's inhabitants will be dispersed.
Another verse states, "Her people have become like a widow." This is also interpreted as a blessing. Jerusalem is likened to a living widow whose husband has traveled overseas; he is alive and plans to return, signifying that God has not abandoned Jerusalem permanently. The verse "I will make you despised, and you will be low in the eyes of the people, so they will not appoint custom officials and police officers from you" is similarly interpreted as a blessing. The Maharsha explains that because the people will not respect them, the government will not appoint them to these undesirable positions, thus saving them from such lowly tasks.
The verse "God will strike the Jewish people like a reed that sways in the water" is also considered a blessing. Just as a reed, though flexible and swaying in the wind, has deep roots and always grows back if cut, so too will the Jewish people withstand their enemies and not be uprooted. In contrast, the verse where Balaam blessed the Jewish people, saying they would be "like cedar trees," is seen as a curse. A cedar tree, while strong and unyielding to many winds, does not grow by water, does not grow back if cut, and can be uprooted by a single powerful wind. Thus, it symbolizes a people that, despite its strength, can be completely destroyed. The reed, moreover, has the merit of being used as a quill for writing sacred texts like a Sefer Torah.
The Rabbis taught: A person should always be soft and flexible like a reed, not hard and arrogant like a cedar. This lesson is illustrated by the story of Rabbi Elazar ben Azariah. He was returning from his rabbi's house, feeling pleased with his learning. He encountered a man who was exceedingly ugly. Instead of greeting him, Rabbi Elazar remarked, "How ugly is that man!" The man retorted, "Go tell the Craftsman who made me how ugly He made me!" Rabbi Elazar immediately realized his sin and dismounted from his donkey, bowing before the man and asking for forgiveness. The man refused to forgive him until Rabbi Elazar went to the Divine Craftsman and complained about his creation.
Rabbi Elazar followed the man to his city, seeking forgiveness. When the townspeople saw Rabbi Elazar approaching, they came out to greet him, calling him "Rabbi, Rabbi." The ugly man exclaimed, "Who are you calling Rabbi? If this man is a rabbi, may there not be many like him in Israel!" The townspeople urged him to forgive Rabbi Elazar, and the man finally relented, saying, "I forgive him on your account, on condition that he does not make a habit of such behavior." Rabbi Elazar then taught the lesson that a person should always be soft like a reed, not like a cedar. Rashi identifies the ugly man as Eliyahu HaNavi, who appeared to teach Rabbi Elazar a lesson. The Maharsha explains that Rabbi Elazar initially thought the man was not Jewish due to his appearance, hence his harsh remark. The man's condition for forgiveness, that Rabbi Elazar not "make a habit" of it, meant he should avoid the arrogance that led to such behavior. Some interpretations suggest the lesson was also for the ugly man, who was too stubborn in granting forgiveness.
The Gemara then discusses collapsing buildings. It states that if strong, well-built walls fall, it is considered a plague, but not if they were weak or structurally unsound. The Gemara clarifies that "strong" (Briyot) and "not worthy to fall" (Ra'uy to fall) are distinct. A building can be strong but still "worthy to fall" if it is built too high, making it susceptible to wind, or if its foundation is compromised by water, even if the visible structure is strong. Thus, a collapse is only a plague if the building was both strong and not inherently prone to falling due to its height or location.
The Gemara relates that Rav Adda bar Ahava was once walking near a wall with Shmuel. Shmuel suggested they go around it, as was their custom. Rav Adda bar Ahava replied that it was unnecessary, as his presence, due to his merits, would prevent the wall from falling. This demonstrates the power of a righteous person's protection. However, Rav Huna once brought Rav Adda bar Ahava into a dilapidated house to retrieve wine, relying on his merit to prevent its collapse. After Rav Adda bar Ahava left, the house immediately fell. Rav Adda bar Ahava was upset, citing Rabbi Yanai's teaching: "A person should never place himself in a dangerous situation, relying on a miracle. For perhaps a miracle will not occur, and even if it does, it will diminish his merits."
The Gemara then asks what specific merits Rav Adda bar Ahava possessed that granted him such longevity. He listed several: he was never angry in his house; he never walked ahead of someone greater than him (even by a single step); he never thought about Torah in dirty places (and was careful not to even walk quickly through such places without thinking of Torah); he never slept a full night's sleep; he never rejoiced in his friend's misfortune; and he never called his friend by a derogatory nickname. The Maharsha explains that while many of these are grave transgressions, Rav Adda bar Ahava's diligence in avoiding them, even when others around him might be lax, was a source of great merit.
The Gemara recounts further acts of Rav Huna's piety. In his old age, he would be carried in a golden chair to inspect the city. Any dilapidated wall he found, he would demolish. If the owner could afford to rebuild it, he would allow them. If not, Rav Huna would pay for the reconstruction himself. Every Friday afternoon, he would send agents to the market to buy any leftover vegetables from the growers and throw them into the river. This was to ensure that farmers would not suffer losses, encouraging them to bring sufficient produce for the next week's market. The Gemara questions why he threw them into the river rather than giving them to the poor, to avoid waste. Rashi explains that he did not want the poor to become dependent on him. By throwing them into the river, they would float downstream, and anyone who found them would consider it a windfall, not a regular source of sustenance. Additionally, Rav Huna would fill a jug with medicine and hang it at his door, making it accessible to anyone who needed it. He would also place a jug of water by his door for people to wash their hands, protecting them from a certain demon (Shabtah) that could afflict those who ate bread without ritual hand-washing. Finally, he would open his door daily and declare, "Whoever is hungry, let him come and eat!" Rav Huna, however, admitted he could not do this in Mehoza, his city, because there were so many poor people that inviting them all would overwhelm his household. The Maharsha clarifies that this was because the army often passed through Mehoza, and inviting everyone would be unsustainable.