The Koznitzer Maggid, the great Chassidic Rebbe and leader, looked up from his festive Purim dinner.

"Was that a breeze I felt?" he said. "Did someone open a window?"

"Good Purim, Rebbe," the man said again, scarcely a decibel louder. The Rebbe looked up. Standing there in a tattered, oversized coat, a battered hat, with two pitiful eyes staring out from beneath, was Pinchas the Shlepper, the poorest Jew in town. He was the town porter and the downtrodden local doormat; people could wipe their feet on him and not even notice.

"Good Purim, Pinchas!" the Rebbe cried. "Well, did you bring me a mishloach monos Purim package?" Pinchas looked down at his shredded shoes. He did not even have food for his own family, so from where would he bring the Rebbe a gift?

"Pinchas!" the Rebbe shouted. "How long will you remain a shlepper? It's Purim today! "V'nahaphachu!" Everything turns over on Purim! Go, and sit at the head of the table." Pinchas moved over obediently. "Now, in your loudest voice," the Rebbe said, "wish me a good Purim."

"Good Purim," he repeated. Some mice in the corner squeaked in response.

"Not like that. Louder, Pinchas!"

"Good Purim!"

"Louder, Pinchas!" The Rebbe's Chassidim sitting around the Purim table cheered on, joining in with words of encouragement.

"GOOD PURIM! GOOD PURIM" After about a half-hour of trying, Pinchas let out a string of really inspired "Good Purims!!" The Rebbe's eyes lit up.

"Now, Pinchas. Go out and bring me mishalach monos. And please wish a "Good Purim" to every person you meet."

Uplifted and inspired, Pinchas strode confidently down the main street.

"Good Purim!" he called to all passersby. "GOOD PURIM!" The townspeople were as dumbstruck as bowling pins. "Was that Pinchas the Shlepper?" they asked one another.

Pinchas marched into the shop of the local wine merchant. "Good Purim, Shmuel!" he said. "Give me three bottles of your best wine and I will pay you tomorrow, and if not, well it's Purim today!" Reb Shmuel was shocked, but seizing the opportunity to perform a mitzvah he ran over to the wine shelf, as his bewildered wife looked on.

From there, Pinchas went to the bakery.

"Good Purim, Meir! Give me five cakes and five loaves of bread and I will pay you tomorrow, and if not, well, its Purim today!"

Again, he was met with the same enthusiastic response. Pinchas quickly ran back to the Rebbe's home to present him with his mishloach monos -- cake and wine. "Good Purim, Rebbe!" he cried, as he ran back out again for his family. The butcher, the tailor, the cobbler - Pinchas wished each one of them a special Good Purim.

Several hours later, in their little shack at the edge of town, Pinchas the Shlepper's family heard several bangs at the front door, which then burst open. Framed in the doorway was a man completely obscured by an armload of packages, except for his shiny new shoes, neatly pressed trousers and the top of a new felt hat - it was their father!

"GOOD PURIM, CHILDREN!" he shouted. His wife stared at him as if in a dream. Pinchas went over to her. "My dear, I've been a terrible husband and have made you and the children suffer for years. I promise, from now on things will be different. But first, set the table, it's Purim today!"

The table was quickly set -- a meal fit for a king. "But children, before we begin . . . " Pinchas stood them all at the head of the table. "Wish your father a Good Purim."

"Good Purim, Daddy."

"No, not like that. Louder!"

"Good Purim, Daddy!"

"No, louder!"

Across town, the Koznitzer Rebbe leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and smiled. "Sha, Sha!" the Chassidim cried, "the Rebbe sees something.

What is it Rebbe? Tell us."

"Right now," he replied, "Pinchas the Shlepper is teaching his family to say Good Purim, and all the angels in heaven are listening with joy."

From that Purim on, Pinchas' life changed. His new found confidence inspired others, who lent him money and started him in business. After many years, he became quite wealthy, and his home became a haven for all the troubled and needy people in the area. His life was spent helping others and all who knocked on his door found encouragement in his broad, warm and heartfelt welcome.