An American Jewish businessman was in a great deal of trouble. His business was failing, he had put everything he had into the business, and he owed everybody.

It was so bad he was even contemplating suicide. As a last resort he went to a Rabbi and poured out his story of tears and woe.

When he finished, the Rabbi said, “Here’s what I want you to do: Put a beach chair and your chumash [a Hebrew term for the Torah in book form as opposed to the Torah scroll] in your car and drive down to the beach.

“Take  the beach chair and the chumash to the water’s edge, sit down in the beach chair, and put the chumash in your lap. Open the chumash; the wind will rifle the pages, but finally the open chumash will come to rest on a page. Look down at the page and read the first thing you see. That will be your answer. That will tell you what to do.”

A year later the businessman went back to the Rabbi and brought his wife and children with him. The man was in a new custom-tailored suit, his wife in a mink coat, the children shining. The businessman pulled an envelope stuffed with money out of his pocket, gave it to the Rabbi as a donation in thanks for his advice.

The Rabbi recognized the benefactor, and was curious.

“You did as I suggested?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” replied the businessman.

“You went to the beach?”

“Absolutely.”

“You sat in a beach chair with a chumash in your lap?”

“Absolutely.”

“You let the pages rifle until they stopped?”

“Absolutely.”

“And what were the first words you saw?”

“CHAPTER 11.”