Eleazar, the son of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, inherited more than his father's wisdom. He inherited superhuman strength.
One day, Eleazar was sitting at a lavish meal — and when Eleazar ate, he ate with the appetite of a giant. He was deep into an enormous spread of food when a group of donkey drivers passed by and caught sight of the feast. They began to mock him. "Look at this one," they sneered, "stuffing his face while others work." The insults were crude, the laughter cruel.
Eleazar said nothing. He stood up from his meal, walked over to where the donkey drivers had tethered their animals, and began to work. But he did not untie the donkeys and lead them away. He picked them up. With his bare hands, he lifted the donkeys — fully loaded beasts of burden — one by one, and placed them in the upper loft of the building, as easily as another man might move sacks of grain.
The donkey drivers stood with their mouths open. Their mockery died in their throats. They had just insulted a man who could hoist a donkey over his head with one hand. They fell to their knees and begged his forgiveness, suddenly very aware that the man they had been taunting could crush them as easily as he had lifted their animals.
Eleazar forgave them promptly. And to show there were no hard feelings, he brought the donkeys back down — two at a time, one under each arm. The strength of the righteous, the Rabbis taught, is not just physical. It includes the strength to forgive an insult as easily as lifting a donkey.