The Pauper's Present
One day, a prominent minister arrived in a city, and, naturally, the locals turned out to greet him. It wasn't every day that a high-ranking official shows up in town. People from all walks of life came with gifts—gifts of every shape and size. The minister, being a busy man, appointed a secretary to receive these gifts. A wise move, given that one man can’t possibly manage such an avalanche of offerings.
But then, through the crowd, came a destitute man, clutching his present. He wasn’t willing to hand it to the secretary. No, he insisted on delivering it to the minister in person. After a good deal of persistence—and more than a few hours of waiting—the poor man finally secured a brief audience with the great minister.
The minister graciously accepted the gift. He opened it, expecting something grand, or at least meaningful. Instead, he found—well, not much. It wasn’t anything special, certainly not on par with some of the extravagant gifts the others had brought. The minister raised an eyebrow in mild confusion.
"Tell me," he asked the poor man, "why did you go to such trouble to bring this to me in person? You could’ve given it to my secretary. He’s quite capable of handling these matters."
The poor man, with an earnestness that reflected his station in life, explained:
"Your honor, the gift I bring is small—especially for someone as great as you. But I knew that if you would see who I am, how poor I truly am, then you would appreciate the value of my offering. Then you would value it just as you value the lavish gifts of the rich. That’s why I had to deliver it personally—to make sure that you saw the person behind the gift."
The Meal Offering
But the Sages remind us: "The amount is not important, but whether one directs his heart to heaven." (Menachot 110a). It's not the value of the gift, but the sincerity of the giver.
Take, for example, the minchah, the meal offering. Of all the Temple offerings, only the meal offering of flour is described in the Torah as being brought by a nefesh—a soul (Lev. 2:1).
Who typically brings a meal offering? A poor person [because flour is far cheaper than animal offerings]. And so, the Holy One says: “I count it for him as if he has sacrificed his very soul!” (Menachot 104b)
The Midrash quotes Psalms 22:25, “For He did not despise nor abhor the cry of the poor,” explaining that just as God does not despise the poor man’s prayer, neither does He despise his offering.
The Maggid notes that the continuation of the verse in Psalms is equally pertinent: “He did not hide his face from him.” God does not reject the poor man’s offering—provided that he does not hide his face from Him.
In our daily lives, we judge others by external factors—their wealth, their clothes, their social standing. Even when it comes to public offerings and donations, we are quick to measure by size and cost. But as the verse reminds us: “For a man sees what is visible to the eyes, but the Eternal sees into the heart” (I Samuel 16:7).
God sees into the heart. He sees the soul behind the offering. Like the poor man in the story, we must bring ourselves to God—and then, no matter how modest, our offering will be valued.
