The poor maestro Rabbi would go to his daily spiritual battle up high on the mountaintop. He was good and kind and would enter into a spiritual realm through meditation. He would ascend and battle the lost greats with hard emotional, spiritual battles. The other lost Rabbis who had lost their kindness and time and visibility. The bad Rabbis didn’t care anymore. They had no faith that the children of the House of Plumbo would ever learn their lesson and change their ways. “They will never change from being Plumbos, they are not like us, they are of a different nation. Arrest them all! Get them all! No more mercy! We have lost faith in Plumbos!”. But the poor maestro Rabbi always had faith and said there is always hope. It was a strenuous psychological and spiritual battle and he would win and convince the other Rabbis to show mercy. After the battle, exhausted, he would go back home. On the way home, all he thought about was the joy of a simple meal of bread and coffee to calm his person. He lived next to the House of Plumbos, and when he returned home, he found, after fighting for third and fourth and fifth and sixth chances, for the Plumbos – making sure they have new chances and opportunities and education and that they achieve their rights… the Plumbos, yet again, broke in and stole the poor Rabbi’s bread and coffee without one single lock broken. A patient and wise man he was as he gave a sigh and thought about forgiveness and leaving those old corners uncut “those critters sure get clever. Maybe they are starving. What’s a few crumbs to me?” He thought of the words he once read “if G-d had windows, they’d all get smashed and broken”.