For three years the house of Shammai and the house of Hillel stood locked in argument. Each claimed the law, the halacha, belonged to them. Both schools were sharp; both were pious; both had masters whose logic could fell a cedar.
Finally, Eiruvin 13b records, a voice came down from Heaven. "Both these and those," it declared, "are the words of the living God. But the halacha follows the house of Hillel."
Why Hillel? Not because his reasoning was sharper. Not because his scholars were more numerous. Rabbi Abba, in the name of Shemuel, gives the reason: the disciples of Hillel were gentle and forbearing. They taught their own opinions, yes — but they also taught the opinions of Shammai. And they mentioned Shammai's view first, then their own.
This is how the sages understood humility. Not self-erasure, but the willingness to carry your opponent's argument as carefully as your own. The one who humbles himself, Heaven exalts. The one who chases greatness, greatness flees. The one who flees from greatness — greatness follows him home.
Truth can live in two houses. The deciding vote goes to the kinder one.