Abba Hilkiah — the grandson of Honi the Circle-Drawer — inherited his grandfather's extraordinary ability to bring rain through prayer. But his methods were so peculiar that the sages who came to ask for his help were left bewildered. The Talmud (Taanit 23a-b) records the entire exchange.
When a drought struck the land, the sages sent two scholars to ask Abba Hilkiah to pray for rain. They found him working in his field and greeted him. He did not respond. They followed him home and observed a series of strange behaviors: he carried his bundle on one shoulder instead of both, he walked barefoot on dry ground but put on shoes to cross water, he lifted his garments when passing through thorns but lowered them in smooth terrain.
At home, his wife greeted him at the door more elaborately dressed than he was. They went upstairs, and he and his wife prayed facing different corners of the room. Rain clouds appeared first on his wife's side.
The scholars asked for explanations. Every odd behavior had a reason. He did not respond to their greeting because he was a day laborer and did not want to take time from his employer's work. He wore shoes in water to protect against unseen hazards. His wife dressed well because modesty requires it even at home. The rain came first to her corner because she gave food directly to the poor — immediate, tangible kindness — while he gave only money.
But the most remarkable detail was this: Abba Hilkiah insisted he had not prayed for rain. It had simply come on its own. The sages knew better. The rain had come because of his prayer — but his humility was so genuine that he refused to take credit for a miracle everyone could see.