The World Championship is over and Viswanathan Anand is the new king of chess. Long life to the king! But after more than three weeks of daily tournament passion in Mexico, it is time to take a little break.

This week’s column is based on a true story, the events of which occurred November 17, 2006 in Berlin, capital of Germany, where I reside.

That day I went to see a very interesting live event: Junior female world champion, 22‑year‑old German Elisabeth Pähtz, and 31‑year‑old Irina Gaponenko from Ukraine, who in the 2006 Chess Olympics led her national team to victory, were playing a number of  rapid chess games. The location was the Emanuel Lasker Society, in an area of Berlin called Kreuzberg. It was a weekend and outside the snow was slowly covering the city with its white mantle. The playing room was crowded, the two players deeply engrossed and the spectators totally silent.

An old man came to me and asked in very low voice, “Are you Mr. Hernández?” I answered “yes” and then he gave me a letter. “We will talk after the games are over,” he said.

The tournament came to an end. Elisabeth Pähtz had won. People clapped and began to leave the hall of the Emanuel Lasker Society. The old man then came to me again. He told me that in the letter there was a chess problem that he had been using for more than 50 years with his pupils. “So few pieces and yet quite difficult,” were his words.

When I arrived home, I opened the letter and found the problem we present today. It is one of the most beautiful compositions of Heinrich Friedrich Ludwig Meyer. He was a very famous German problemist born in Hannover on June 6, 1839. He died in the English city of Letchworth on January 15, 1928.

The problem was first published in the British story paper Boy’s Own Paper in 1903. This publication was very well known because it usually published chess problems and puzzles, and many of the most important chess problemists published their work there. I also found that the man’s words were right. Even though there are few pieces on the chess board, this mate in three moves is more difficult than it seems and thus is beautiful as well.

I never saw the old man again. I just know that his name is P. Lüpke because he wrote it in the letter he gave me, and that he is the chess teacher at Goethe High Schoo, in the Berliner area of Willmersdorf. This article is dedicated to him and to the people who devote their lives to expand the knowledge of the king of games.