Eight angels came to me on eight nights
Each one told a story*****
On the fifth night
Rebbe Nachman appeared as an angel
he spoke out of a thatch of black beard
reminded me to walk daily without my shoes
through the grass.
He told this story:
a young man left home
traveled to a faraway land
where he learned the art of making menorahs.
When he returned home he went to work.
He worked alone covering the menorah with a large cloth
— even the father had not seen it.
When he was done
he asked his father to gather together
the townspeople in the square.
He unveiled his work
— everyone was silent.
His father approached each person individually
asking what they thought about the menorah.
Each one saw a defect
— each a different defect.
The father told his son,
what one person praised another person cursed.
That’s what I learned, said the son,
each defect is in the eyes of the person who sees it.
I fashioned a menorah entirely out of defects,
I made the menorah out of flaws.
Now I will begin its repair.
Rebbe Nachman always giggled when he came to the end of a story.
When you find a flaw, he said,
you find your own flaw.