There’s a very beautiful story about a Hassid mystic, Zusia.

Osho considers him as one of the most beautiful mystics this world has known.

He was a man of prayer and very sensitive human being.

It is said that once he was going into the hills, and he saw many birds, caught by a man, in a cage. Zusia opened the cage — because birds are meant to fly — and all the birds flew away.

And the man who had encaged the birds, came rushing out of his house and he said ‘What have you done?’

And Zusia said ‘Birds are meant to fly. Look how beautiful they look on the wing!’

But the man thought otherwise and became infuriated. He gave Zusia a good beating. His whole day’s work had been destroyed, and he had been hoping to go to the market and sell the birds, and there were many many things to be done — and now Zusia had destroyed the whole thing.

He gave him a really good beating. This did not provoke any anger in Zusia. He kept laughing, rather enjoying being beaten. The man  thought of Zusia to be a mad man. After a while, Zusia asked the man, ‘Are you done with the beating, or would you like to do a little more? Are you finished? Please tell because now I have to go.’

The man could not answer. What to answer! This man was simply mad! And Zusia started singing a song. He was very happy — happy that the birds were flying in the sky and happy that he was beaten and yet it didn’t hurt, happy that he could receive it as a gift, happy that he could still thank God. There was no complaint.

This way Zusia transformed the whole quality of the situation.

Zusia always knew how to transform anger into compassion. He had a very unique way of praying. In the time of death, when he was praying, tears were flowing down from his eyes and he was trembling.

Somebody asked him, ‘What is the matter? Why are you trembling?’

He was saying ‘I am trembling for a certain reason. This is my last moment, I am dying. Soon I will be facing my God, and I am certain he is not going to ask me “Zusia, why were you not a Moses?

If he asks I will say “Lord, because you didn’t give me the qualities of a Moses!”; there will be no problem. He will not ask me “Why were you not the Rabbi Akiba?” I will tell him “Sir, you never gave me the qualities of being an Akiba, that’s why.”

But I am trembling because if he asks “Zusia, why were you not a Zusia” then I will have nothing to answer, then I will have to look down in shame. That’s why I am trembling and these tears are flowing.

My whole life I tried to become Moses or Akiba or somebody else, and I completely forgot that he wanted me to be just Zusia and nobody else. Now I am trembling, now I am afraid. If he asks this question, what am I going to answer?

How will I be able to raise my eyes when he says “Why were you not Zusia? You were given all the qualities of being a Zusia, how did you miss?”

And I have missed in imitating others.’

This kind of humbleness is really unique.