Once upon a time there lived a poor Jewish tailor named Moishe. Because he was so poor, Moishe had to live and work in one little room with his wife, Sarah, and his three lively children, Benjamin, Joseph, and Rachel. There was so much noise and confusion in the little room that it was very hard for Moishe to get on with his work: the children bumped into his table, crumpled his materials, and pricked their fingers with his needles and pins. Sometimes, Sarah shouted at him because he was in her way when she wanted to clean or cook. Life was indeed hard, and Moishe felt more and more miserable.

So one day he decided to go and consult Rashi, a great and wise Rabbi. Moishe put on his best clothes and went to the synagogue and there he opened his heart to Rabbi Rashi. He told the learned man how difficult it was for him to live and work in such a small room with so many people.

The Rabbi listened carefully, and then, stroking his long, black beard, he asked, “Moishe, do you have a rooster?”

“No,” answered Moishe.

“Then borrow a rooster and take it to live with you; then come and see me in a week,” advised the learned Rabbi.

A week later, Moishe returned to the synagogue, looking even more unhappy. “The rooster crows at dawn and wakes us up too early; and his droppings fall all over the room. It is even more difficult to work,” he complained sadly.

Rabbi Rashi listened, and then he said, ““Moishe, do you have a cat?”

“No,” answered Moishe.

“Then borrow a cat and keep it in your room; then come back in a week,” advised the learned Rabbi.

When Moishe returned a week later he looked even more discouraged. “The cat and the rooster keep fighting,” he complained; “and the cat scratched Rachel so that she cried for two hours,”

But Rabbi Rashi only told Moishe to borrow a dog and to come back again the following week.

At the end of the week, when Moishe came again to the synagogue, the Rabbi could see from the dark circles under his eyes that he had not had much sleep.

“How are things?” he inquired.

Poor Moishe began to weep. “Terrible, learned Rabbi, worse and worse,” he cried. “Now I know why people say ‘fighting like cats and dogs’. We haven’t had a moment’s peace. The cat and dog chase each other around the room all day and night; the dog barks while the rooster crows, and the cat meows, and the children cry and fight. My Sarah is so cross with me for bringing all these animals into the room that she will hardly speak to me.”

Rabbi Rashi listened carefully, and then said, “Moishe, can you borrow a donkey?”

Moishe would have like to say that he could not; but Abraham, his neighbor, had a donkey, and Moishe was a truthful man. “I can borrow a donkey,” he answered, “but please don’t make me take it into my room.”

Rabbi Rashi only smiled kindly and sent him to borrow the donkey.

Moishe was a sad sight indeed when he came back a week later. The donkey had kicked him in the thigh; the dog had bitten his arm; the cat had scratched his face. The donkey filled the whole room so that there was no place where Moishe could work. Rabbi Rashi listened carefully to this tale of woe, and then said, “Moishe, return the donkey and come to see me in a week.”

A week later Moishe came back looking much more cheerful.

“How are things,” asked the Rabbi.

“Could be worse,” answered Moishe. “The cat and the dog still fight and make a noise, but at least now there is room to stand, and the donkey is no longer there to kick me.”

“Return the dog,” said the Rabbi, “and come to see me in a week.”

Moishe was looking well rested when he came a week later. Things had improved greatly. “It is true that the cat and rooster still fight and pester the children,” said Moishe, “but at least the dog is no longer there to bite me.” The Rabbi told him to return the rooster and the cat and to come back after a week.

Moishe rushed to the synagogue a week later. He looked like a new man. “How are things,” asked the Rabbi.

“Things are wonderful!” answered Moishe. “I am a lucky man, for I have three fine healthy children, an excellent wife who is a good cook and mother, and a very pleasant room in which to live and work. What more can a man ask from life?”

Rabbi Rashi listened to Moishe and smiled. “Moishe,” he said, stroking his beard, “you have learned one of the most important lessons of life – to be content with your lot. Never forget this lesson, my son, and may the blessings of G-d be with you.”