A farmer was harvesting his field when he realized he had forgotten a sheaf of grain. It was sitting in the far corner of the field, left behind in the rush of the day's work. His first instinct was to go back and retrieve it. Then he stopped. A grin spread across his face. He began to dance.
His workers stared at him. The man was celebrating the loss of a sheaf of grain? Had the sun gotten to him?
The farmer explained. The Torah commands in (Leviticus 19:9-10) that when you harvest your field, you must not go back for the sheaves you have forgotten. They belong to the poor — the stranger, the orphan, the widow. It is one of the most beautiful commandments in all of scripture, and also one of the most unusual, because it can only be fulfilled by accident.
Every other commandment requires intention. You choose to keep the Sabbath. You decide to give charity. You deliberately avoid forbidden foods. But the commandment of the forgotten sheaf is different. If you go back and deliberately leave a sheaf, it does not count — because you did not forget it. The only way to fulfill this commandment is to genuinely forget.
The farmer had been observant his entire life. He had kept every commandment he could think of — except this one, because he had never forgotten a sheaf before. Now, finally, through pure accident, he had left one behind. For the first time in his life, he had fulfilled the commandment that cannot be fulfilled on purpose.
"Call me blessed!" he cried. "Today I have performed a mitzvah that even the most righteous man cannot achieve through effort alone. God Himself arranged for me to forget."