In a time of devastating drought, the people of Israel came to Honi ha-Meagel — "Honi the Circle-Drawer" — and begged him to pray for rain. Honi drew a circle in the dirt, stepped inside it, and declared to God: "I swear by Your great Name that I will not move from this circle until You have mercy on Your children."
A light drizzle fell. "I did not ask for this," Honi said. A violent storm erupted. "Not this either." Finally, a gentle, steady, blessed rain began to fall, and the drought was broken.
But Honi was troubled by a verse in (Psalms 126:1): "When the Lord brought back the captivity of Zion, we were like dreamers." The Babylonian exile lasted seventy years. How could anyone sleep — or dream — for seventy years?
One day, Honi saw an old man planting a carob tree. "This tree takes seventy years to bear fruit," Honi said. "Do you expect to eat from it?" The old man replied: "My grandfather planted for me. I plant for my grandchildren."
Honi sat down to rest. He fell into a deep sleep. A rocky hedge grew up around him, hiding him from the world. When he woke, seventy years had passed. The carob tree was full of fruit. A young man was picking from it — the grandson of the planter.
Honi returned to town. His son had died. His grandson was now an old man. He went to the study hall and heard scholars quoting his teachings, saying "This law is as clear as in the days of Honi ha-Meagel." He told them who he was. No one believed him. The Talmud in Taanit (23a) records that Honi, heartbroken and unrecognized, prayed for death — and God granted it. He had answered his own question. Now he knew what it meant to dream for seventy years.