Situations

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Do an act of courtesy for someone during the course of your day. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. Lesson #31 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS One Who Humiliates His Fellow In Public HaMalbin Chavairo B’Rabim Perek Gimmul, Mishna Tes Vav Story:  (based on a true story) I’ve always considered myself a very considerate and caring friend, which is why I’m so upset that one of my closest friends, Chaya, has chosen to pull away from me as of late.  She won’t take my phone calls any longer, and I’m not sure what to do about it.  If only she’d let me into her life right now, she’d see how much of a help I could be, especially now when she needs friends the most.  However, most of all she’d see that I’d learned my lesson and just how badly I feel and how sorry I am.  Yet, I understand that I have to give her some space to heal her hurt feelings that I caused. The whole situation began a month ago at a special ladies shalosh se’udos our shul was sponsoring.  I was one of the organizers in charge of food, and Chaya was one of the people on the clean-up committee.  The shalosh se’udos was held at another lady in the neighborhood’s house.  When Shabbos was over, and all the ladies began to disperse to their homes, the only ones left were the clean-up committee and the food committee.  There was a lot of food left, and, as my group began to wrap-up bowls of tuna, pasta, and other yummy salads and desserts in the kitchen – someone mentioned that we should make sure that the left-over’s go to some family in our community that can use it.  They began talking of donating it to a local organization. With Chaya still in the dining room clearing paper plates, I quietly said, “Chaya can use the food.  Her husband hasn’t been working for over a month now, and I know food shopping has been extra hard for her as of late.  With seven children to feed, I think it’s only right that we just let her take the food with her tonight.”  The ladies agreed. I went into the dining room and offered Chaya the containers, but she surprised me when she began to turn down her families much needed food.  “Oh…no,” she chuckled, speaking in a very loud voice that could be heard in the next room.  “Please don’t worry.  It’s okay to give it to someone else!”  I should have taken that as a clue, instead I blundered on. “Don’t be silly Chaya!” I chided, my own voice rising.  “The other day you told me yourself how hard things are – take the food for goodness sake!” I encouraged her.  Finally she gave in.  She walked into the kitchen, looked around the room hesitantly, and said, “Thank you all very much…it will help.”  She then scurried off to go back and finish cleaning the living room and dining room up. Later when I helped Chaya carry the food home, she was unusually quiet.  I asked her if she was upset and she simply said she had heard what I said in the kitchen and had been embarrassed, but didn’t want to speak to me about it.  Since then, I have done a lot of thinking about my behavior.  I’ve spoken at length to my husband and Rabbi and realized the large error I’d made.  Unfortunately, my lesson cost me the trust of a friend. Pirkay Avos: “Rabi Elazar HaModa’i omer:  … ha’malbin p’nai chavairo borabim… af al pi she’yaysh b’yado torah u’ma’asim tovim, ain lo chailek lo’olam haba. “ Rabbi Elazar HaModa’i says, “One… who humiliates his fellow in public… though he may have Torah and good deeds, he has no share in the World to come. “(Perek Gimmul, Tes Vav). Our mishna states that a person who shames another is punished even more severely than a murderer, since, unlike a murderer, he loses his share in the World to Come.  Why is shaming someone worse than murder?  One reason is that a person who humiliates someone else does not realize the gravity of his offense.  He thinks, “What have I done?  I did not hit him or steal from him.  I merely used words that he did not appreciate.  Such a person has little incentive to change his behavior.  The Rambam points out that there are sins that may seem to be relatively trivial, but that can have the most serious consequences.    Our sages teach that with three exceptions, “all Israel have a portion in the World to Come”.  These exceptions are:  1) a person who denies the resurrection of the dead, 2) a person who denies the Torah, and 3) an apikores (Sanhedrin 90a).  There are five types of people in this mishna, including one who humiliates his fellow in public.  All of these people, state the commentators, correspond to the category of apikores. One who shames his fellow in public denies that man was created in the image of HaShem, and that HaShem breathed life into his nostrils.  As he sees it, a person is no better than an animal.  This point of view leads him to disrespect others, and he thus has no compunctions about shaming his fellow in public. The Rashbatz explains that the mishna’s primary intent is to caution us not to rebuke others in a way that would inadvertently shame them.  The dividing line between proper and improper rebuke is exceedingly fine. Chasid Ya’avetz states that the common denominator of all the instances cited in this mishna is that the transgressor is not a conscious or intentional nonbeliever.  Rather, he evinces a dismissive attitude toward the Torah’s concept of holiness.  The Maharal echoes this view, and adds a new element:  that in each case, the malefactor’s intent was actually positive and spiritual. (Reproduced from Rav

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Go out of your way to approach a situation more modestly, so as not to inadvertently shame someone.  Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. Lesson #32 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS And Greet Everyone Gladly V’Hevay M’Kabel Es Kol Ha’Adam B’Simcha Perek Gimmul, Mishna Tes Zayin Story:  (based on a true story) I’ve always struggled with being terribly shy.  It didn’t help when several years ago my husband and I moved our family from my home town to a small Jewish community in an unfamiliar city.  For the first few months I stayed  pretty much to  myself, simply because it was easier with my shyness to stay within my comfort zone than to reach out.  A lot of people introduced themselves to me, and I reciprocated as minimally as necessary and then reverted right back into my shell.  The block we lived on was predominately frum, and over time I’d noticed how everyone seemed so easy going and they acted in such a friendly manner to each other—something inside me longed to join in.  Often I would leave in the morning to drive my children to school and then head off to work and I’d see everyone else on the block doing the same, however as everyone would be exchanging “Good morning’s” to each other, I usually made little eye contact as a way of  keeping to myself  because of my issue, so not many people noticed me.  I started to realize that I did this at grocery stores and clothing stores as well.  Making little eye contact and not so much as a thank you or a kind word had not only separated me, but it had cut off a certain kindness in me.  I continued to watch other people in my community as they interacted socially, and then one day, I gathered up enough courage and I decided to join in the morning greeting  everyone.  I realized later as I drove away, that not only did my greeting make others smile, it actually made me smile.  In turn, I noticed my mood had lightened when I dropped my children off at school.  All throughout my day I kept pushing myself to greet people I didn’t know with smiles and chit chat, and I was rewarded with such uplifting responses.  With each attempt it got easier.  It was as if a shell I’d created around me was cracking apart and it felt good. Then the next week, I had to drop off a prescription at a pharmacy that we’d been using since we’d moved into our neighborhood.  The pharmacist was a woman who, like most Gentiles, wore immodest style clothing; pants and short sleeved shirts.  Nonetheless, following my new way of greeting people, I smiled and warmly said hello as I handed in my prescription to her.  She seemed surprised at my change in personality.  “You seem happy today!  It’s nice to see!” she exclaimed as she bustled around filling my prescription.  “Yes,” I said.  “It’s been a nice day.” “You know,” she began.  “You’ve always seemed a little hard to approach, so I never said anything, but now that it’s just you and me and you’re in such a good mood, I wanted to let you know,” she paused.  “Well, I’m Jewish too you know!” she laughed.  “Wow!  How nice, I didn’t know!”  I was really surprised.  I went there really often and I had no idea.  I never really even took the time to notice her. “Yeah, and I’m actually starting to attend Shabbat services at the Chabad over on the East side now too.  I thought, well, with you being frum you’d find that interesting…” “How wonderful!” I exclaimed.  From there we spent a good twenty minutes having a terrific conversation about life and Shabbos.  When some other costumers came, we even exchanged phone numbers to continue our conversation.  I really liked her!  That following Shabbos I attended a shiur for women at my shul, and as everyone mingled afterwards, I convinced myself to do something extra brave for someone with shyness issues—I approached the speaker and thanked her for her meaningful words of divrai Torah.  She was so touched by my compliment she hugged me!  The emotional rush that gave me, was worth all the anxiety it took for me to do these hard emotional challenges! I’ve since thought about the power of greeting people kindly.  It touches everyone involved on so many levels!  To think I might never have met the pharmacist personally, or made that connection with the speaker, or been friendly with my neighbors, had I not taken the chance to break out of my bubble.  It really is nicer to smile and greet all kinds of people nicely, than to show little emotion and have people misinterpret that for being unfriendly! Pirkay Avos: “Rabi Yishmael omer:  … v’hevay m’kabel es kol ha’adam b’simcha. “ “Rabi Yishmael says:  … and greet everyone gladly. “(Perek Gimmul, Tes Zayin). R’ Yishmael tells us, “greet everyone gladly”–everyone, young and old, who are mentioned earlier in the mishna.  This is more far-reaching than the requirement stated by Shammai the Elder to greet people with a polite demeanor (Pirkai Avos 1:15).  R’ Yishmael demands that people be greeted not only with a pleasant exterior, but an actual feeling of gladness, which can result in a true bond. We must gladly greet “everyone”– each human being.  And the Hebrew for everyone can also be translated as “the entirety of a person” – the whole of a human being, with both his good and bad points.  Although not everyone possesses this natural ability to empathize with others, it can be acquired, “until gladness becomes part of one’s nature” (Rabbeinu Yitzchak ben R’ Shlomo). R’ Avraham Yitzchak HaKohen Kook, rabbi of the land of Israel in the first half of the twentieth century, was criticized for his warm outreach to Jews who had rejected the authority

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Go out of your way to greet someone gladly and with kindness that you normally ignore. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute.  Lesson #33 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS If There Is No Torah, There Is No Derech Eretz; If There Is No Derech Eretz, There Is No Torah Im Ain Torah, Ain Derech Eretz; Im Ain Derech Eretz, Ain Torah Perek Gimmul, Mishna Chaf Aleph Story:  (based on a true story) Many years ago I made a terrible mistake that still haunts me to this day.  However, instead of beating myself up over that error, I use it to make sure that I never ever repeat that behavior again. It began as a weekly shalosh se’udos that my friends and I would put together while our husbands were at shul.  After a while we jokingly coined it “The Shalosh Se’udos Club” and had silly “rules” like if someone new came to join they had to bake something yummy for the group.  We became like sisters, sharing our lives with each other.  After many years, we had quite a tight group of ladies.  By this point, allowing someone new to join in was not as easy as baking something new.  Occasionally, someone would have a guest over and would bring them for a one time occasion, and it was unspoken that of course that would be fine.    One day, one of the group had a guest over for lunch who stayed all afternoon, and when shalosh se’udos time came she stayed and joined us.  Her name was Esti, and she was really nice and fit right in with our group.  It was a first for us, but we all invited her back the following week.  All that summer she continued to come and soon she became one of the regular group.    A few months later, she randomly began to invite her other friends to join without asking us if that would be okay, and the perfect balance the group had once struck was shifted.  However, those of us who noticed were too intimidated to discuss it with our new friend, and so we just let the train wreck gradually happen.  It all came to a head at my house.  We had started out with six main members, but by that final Shabbos, there must have been at least fifteen women and nine children in my house.  In the dining room, an argument broke when one of the new ladies began to serve a dairy cheese cake she brought with her on the meat dishes I had out.  In the den, several of the unsupervised children got a hold of markers and colored all over the carpet.  It was pure chaos.  In the end, our core group, including me, decided to go back to our basic group and have shalosh se’udos ourselves quietly, without saying anything at all to the others about our decision or our plans.  Through this decision, we stopped contacting Esti entirely.  We had hoped to save ourselves from all the hectic drama.    Looking back, our actions weren’t thoughtful or kind, or honest.  Months later I saw Esti at an event in our neighborhood and I said a casual hi to her.  I was shocked when her eyes welled up with tears and she didn’t answer me; she just turned around and walked away.  I brought this up to our Shalosh Se’udos Club members a day later with the idea that perhaps with our actions we’d hurt people’s feelings, especially Esti’s, because she was really a good friend of ours that we just dropped.  Regardless of actions taken by Esti and her friends, we still had to take responsibility for our own actions and the unnecessarily painful method we used to stop the situation; we had lacked derech eretz in our handling of the situation, and the Torah demanded more of us, even if we were confronted by a lack of derech eretz from others.  And our disregard showed a lack of ahavas yisrael.  I was met with interesting reactions.  I found that though they felt a little guilty, the majority of the women didn’t want to own any responsibility for our behaving badly by the way we ended things.  Later, I discussed at length with my husband how we as a group could and should have been braver in sharing our feelings with Esti as she brought in new people, so as to avoid the final hectic overwhelming end.  At the very least, we should have been honest and clear in the end, and acted as better friends.  For my part in all of this, I wrote Esti a long sincere apology letter explaining that I understood I hurt her feelings, that I was so sorry I personally had a part in treating her badly and that I learned from this experience and would try hard to never do this to anyone else again.  And I asked humbly for her to forgive me.  I shared my growth with my friends at our next shalosh se’udos.  One other lady from our group also apologized personally to Esti.  I’m not sure if anything ever happened between any of the other ladies and Esti.  I do know this:  The Shalosh Se’udos Club gradually dissolved, and Esti forgave me and we are still friends.  The whole situation taught me the biggest lesson of true derech eretz and the beauty of ahavas yisrael done right. Pirkay Avos: “Rabi Elazar ben Azaria omer:  Im ain Torah, ain derech eretz.  Im ain derech eretz, ain Torah… .” “Rabi Elazar ben Azaria says:  If there is no Torah, there is no derech eretz; If there is no derech eretz, there is no Torah. “(Perek Gimmul, Chaf Alef). While some commentators interpret the phrase “derech eretz” as the way of nature and man’s role in it as farmer, builder and so forth, or as a livelihood, derech eretz is typically defined as good manners and adherence to a social code.

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Do something this week consciously using both derech eretz and ahavas yisrael together. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute.  Lesson #34 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS Who Is Wise?  One Who Learns From Everyone Aizehu Chacham, HaLomaid Mikol Adam Perek Daled, Mishna Aleph Part 1 Story:  (based on a true story) It was Sukkos, and my husband David and I were off to my daughter Sarah’s house for a three-day yom tov.  I was looking forward to spending time with my amazing grandchildren and maybe actually having time to talk to Sarah, in addition to lending her a hand. One thing did make me nervous.  Sarah’s family had been invited out for a meal, and David and I were invited to come along.  I felt bad that Sarah should have to turn down an opportunity to have a meal off just because we were there, so when Sarah approached me about it I said that of course we would love to go. The thing is, I’m kind of shy.  I’m not always so well-spoken, plus I came to observant Judaism later in life and don’t know all the rules and lingo like so many other people do.  My community is made of a lot of people like me, and I often find myself to be the one teaching others about practices, but here I would now be out in public in Sarah’s community where I felt more exposed. It didn’t help when I found out the day before the meal that our hosts were a rabbi and his wife, both of whom taught in the local schools.  I figured I would endure the meal quietly among our erudite hosts and our thankfully well-educated children and grandchildren, and Sarah would get a break.  I was a little nervous about David, though.  While he’s very much a people person, he can get irritated when he feels someone is lording their knowledge over him and his later-acquired and possibly differently-oriented Jewish education. On the second day of the holiday, we walked three blocks and were welcomed by our hosts into the largest sukka I’ve ever seen belonging to a private family.  The table was set for over twenty; apparently, we were not the only guests.  As the seats filled in, we saw a number of young women, a small family with two babies and a woman about my age who turned out to be the Grandma in our hosts’ home. We stood for a grand Kiddush, washed and ate from large, perfect-looking challos, and began eating the thankfully familiar looking gefilte fish and some lovely salads.  As I began cutting my granddaughter’s fish, our host announced, “Hello everyone!  Welcome to our meal.  We’d like to really meet everyone here and learn about you.  We’d like to go around the table and have each of you introduce yourself, tell us what you do or where you go to school, and share one thing about yourself that you would like to tell us.  Mendie?  You start.” As Shifra ate her fish I processed this.  Here was an ice-breaker like I did with my fourth-graders on the first day of school.  It felt kind of strange, but the entire table was focused on whoever was talking and I didn’t need to worry about making conversation, so that was OK.  I listened. And so did my hosts.  As the meal went on, each and every person, family or guest, shared something small or big, and our hosts asked questions.  They seemed truly interested in their own kids, in their friends, and in their guests, among whom we were apparently not the only people they had never met. And then it was my turn.  I introduced myself and thanked my hosts for their kindness.  I mentioned my wonderful grandchildren.  And I told them I had taught fourth grade in the public school system for the last twenty five years.  The rabbi asked which town, I answered, and I looked to my left for my husband David to take his turn. But the rabbi’s wife wanted to know more.  She asked what reading curriculum I used and whether I liked it, and I soon found myself in a conversation with the three other teachers at the table about various reading methods and differentiated instruction.  Hearing about my success with my own personally-adapted curriculum, the rabbi’s wife mentioned that she would like to speak with me sometime soon to get more details because she might like to try it, and one of the young women expressed interest in contacting me as well. Following me, David shared with gusto about his construction business.  He answered questions from our host who declared himself “mechanically clueless and in need of help”.  David even gave insight to one of their boys about a g’mara he was learning about an eruv, using a handful of building blocks from the kids’ toy room as a visual aid. We enjoyed the meal immensely, including the Torah the rabbi taught at the meal.  As we walked home, each of us schlepping a tired grandchild, I mentioned to David how I had felt valued as a person, and that Sarah had told me that the rabbi’s wife really did want my phone number.  I also mentioned that I saw him avidly following the rabbi’s Torah talk. David said to me, “Those are some smart people there, seeing how great you are and knowing that everyone has something to offer.  Did you hear how I helped a yeshiva student with g’mara?  Under that rabbi’s hat is a really great head.  He listened to me and you so well I knew I should listen to him.” Pirkay Avos: “Ben Zoma omer:  Aizehu chacham, halomaid mikol adam… .” “Ben Zoma says:  Who is wise?  One who learns from everyone…” (Perek Daled, Mishna Alef). The M’iri writes that this mishna is asking, “What kind of person seeks the correct path to wisdom?”  Because a genuine seeker is assured

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Listen well to learn something from someone around you, and thank them for the help. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. Lesson #35 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS Who Is Strong?  One Who Subdues His Personal Inclination Aizehu Gibor, HaKovaysh Es Yitzro Perek Daled, Mishna Aleph Part 2 Story:  (based on a true story) For many years, I was an undercover  ba’al ga’a’va with an insecurity complex.  I went about my days doing all the things a teenage girl and then a young wife and mother were supposed to do.  But, I didn’t just want to do them, I wanted to do them above and beyond and be noticed for that, because I felt best about myself when I was above and beyond and people knew that. I didn’t tell anyone about this, but I knew.  Sometimes I didn’t feel great about it, and sometimes it didn’t bother me.  But, as I moved on with my life, I encountered more and more situations where I could no longer be the best or even at the top.  I would keep pushing myself to a frustrating point, always have a story of my own to go along with someone else’s story of achievement, and, when possible, completely bow out of something I wasn’t great at.  It was kind of ridiculous, but it had always been my way.  If you do it, be the best at it, and then you can be proud.  My kids grew a little older, and I began to see the dangers of wanting to be the best, as well as now wanting my kids to be the best.  I needed to get over this tendency both for myself and for my children, who were already becoming influenced by it.  But I’d been doing things this way my whole life, and it was hard. Getting to the root of it helped.  For me to be the best meant that I wanted others to be lower and possibly looking up to me, and that was no attitude to have toward my friends and neighbors.  HaShem created us all in His image, right?  So, as I told my kids that we each have our own talents and that it’s good to do things even if we’re not that great at them, I told myself the same. I signed up for an exercise class that I had taken once and enjoyed but not been great at.  I had been embarrassed at my flubbing of the steps since I was used to thinking of myself as very coordinated, and had not gone back.  This time I stuck with it for a ten week session, and it really helped reduce my need to exceed.  Next, I had my husband give me a signal each time he heard me say something that put me above others in any way.  I worked on the midda of anivus in a mussar sefer with a chavrusa.  And, I worked on building up my happiness for the achievements of others, even when it was regarding something where I didn’t feel I measured up.  As I progressed, I realized how much I separated myself from others by needing to be admired, and how much more I could truly care for and be connected to others when I let the need for comparisons fall away. I’ve gotten to a point where I think I’m in decent shape.  I feel less pressure to achieve above others and to have others acknowledge what I’ve done.  As a result of all my efforts, I have more and better friendships and my decisions are more rational and less likely to be clouded by the need for recognition.  I do have a new issue of balance.  In the course of the pursuit of my goal, I have reduced my ambition, which I really miss.  My drive to do and achieve was one of the best things about me, and I need to figure out how to channel it properly.    The opinion of others and my hierarchy among those around me are not the only valid reasons to grow.  My work is for HaShem and for myself.  If I can take the same drive to impress others and instead use it to do HaShem’s will with proper guidance and self-esteem, I’m golden.  That’s my next project, and I think I’m strong enough to handle it. Pirkay Avos: “Ben Zoma omer:  …Aizehu gibor, hakovaysh es yitzro… .” “Ben Zoma says:  …Who is strong?  One who subdues his personal inclination…” (Perek Daled, Mishna Alef). The Maggid of Koznitz emphasized the uniqueness of each individual’s yetzer hora.  As the mishna says, “hakovayesh es yitzro”, he who conquers his evil inclination.  Once we become aware of our own personal temptations, we are uniquely positioned to take corrective measures to curb this impulse to sin.  Perhaps we can best appreciate the superiority of moral strength over physical might if we realize that only the morally strong are in control of themselves.  While the mighty often act impulsively–and often later regret what they have done–the morally strong individual is in complete control of his actions.  What greater manifestation of strength is there than the ability to control one’s behavior! The mishna goes on to quote the pasuk from Mishlai, “Tov erech apayim mi’gibor, u’moshel rucho milkod ir,” “He who is slow to anger is better than a strong man, and a master of his passions is better than the conqueror of a city.”  In contrast to those individuals who are blessed with a patient personality, but whose patience sometimes suffers during difficult times, someone who attains the virtue of patience by taming his yetzer hora will remain patient, even when his natural inclinations dictate otherwise.  Whereas the hero conquers a city, the spiritual giant who tames his yetzer hora has conquered an entire world:  himself.  The mishna speaks about conquering one’s inclination.  But, would it not be better to eliminate it altogether?  By using

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Identify a deficit in your Ahavas Yisrael and plan one doable way to address it. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute.  Lesson #36 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS Aizehu A’shir, HaSamayach B’Chelko Perek Daled, Mishna Aleph Part 3 Story:  (based on a true story) To many people around me I look rich.  I have six bright and energetic children, b’li ayin hora, who have two sets of involved grandparents, and a husband who brings home enough income for us to live nicely on.  The thing is that I’m a glass half-empty person, which can rob you of everything. My only daughter has many friends and lots of academic potential but doesn’t seem to be able to plan anything, including studying or an outing, and so often I can’t see through the flaws to find her strengths because the flaws are so hard to deal with.  Why can’t she be like every other teenage girl I know who manages to keep things together?  My middle son has top grades but really deficient social skills, so it’s hard for him to keep a chavrusa.  It doesn’t feel like I should have to deal with that.  My husband often takes care of a lot of things around the house, but there are times when he just doesn’t and I was counting on him to help me out.  Sure he had to work, but so do I, right? When I took psychology back in college, I was taught about gratitude journals.  Every day you use one page to write down five things you are grateful for that day.  It helps you to focus on what you have instead of on what you don’t.  I loved the idea, and when I got engaged the next year, I decided to do a combined gratitude and strengths journal for my husband and eventually for each of my kids.  Every day I would write down three things I was grateful for about each one, either from that day or as a general trait. I kept that journal on and off for the first two and a half years of my marriage and found it helpful and fairly easy to do.  I had a great husband and a cute baby.  Sure, she kept me up at night, but that’s what babies do, right?  But when she hit her terrible twos six months early just after her baby brother was born and during my accountant husband’s tax season, I stopped writing.  I still don’t know if I stopped writing because I was too tired and had no time and that slid me into ingratitude and pessimism, or if I started becoming more pessimistic and lost patience for the journal.  What I do know is that I ended up complaining to my husband at the end of the day instead of spreading nachas, and I found myself increasingly annoyed at my toddler. She grew out of her twos, but I kept my attitude.  Interspersed by short bursts of optimism, I became increasingly pessimistic, or, what I called pragmatic.  Every phone call might be my daughter’s teacher asking if we should get her a new tutor or a coach so she could actually get her homework in, or my husband telling me he had to work late again.  Every time my son walked in the door I expected kvetching about how nobody let him play at recess.  And, while I was expecting these things, I was still annoyed about them when they happened.  My internal monologue became, “What now?  Why me?” About a year ago, we cleaned out the basement so we could put in a room for my daughter down there and split up the three boys upstairs.  In a box in the corner of the closet I found a stack of my old notebooks, so I started flipping through, amazed at all the things I used to know.  Four notebooks down, I found my gratitude journals.  There were three, and tucked into the end of the oldest one was a letter I had written to my husband at the end of shana rishona listing for him all the great qualities he had.  I remembered writing it after I’d been annoyed at him for a day or two for some slight or misstep he often made, in order to smooth things over both between us and remind myself about what I had.  It had worked brilliantly, and I reread the response my husband had written at the end, thanking me for seeing him in such a positive light. How often did I tell him the strengths I saw in him now?  And my kids, how about them?  And how often did I stop to think about their strengths, other than when I was trying to get them into schools?  What happened to the person who had written these journals? I flipped to the end of the most recent one.  I was tired, very tired.  I was stuck in my house and missed my shiurim, my job, my friends and my volunteering.  When I had gotten back into all those things and regained a semi-reasonable sleep schedule, the attitude stuck. So what could I do now?  I went out and bought myself a journal with a pretty hard-cover that made it feel important.  It was also small enough to carry in my purse.  Then I made myself a reasonable goal.  Once a week I would write two positive things about each member of my family that I appreciate and for which I am grateful.  Sometime during the following week, I would compliment or otherwise acknowledge that person for one of those things, and then check it off.  In return for doing this each week, I treated myself to sushi for lunch. It’s amazing how a journal can change your life.  Even if I am not in a positive mood, in order to complete this task I

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Write down two things about someone in your life for which you are grateful.  If possible, tell that person at least one of the things for which you are grateful. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute.   Lesson #37 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS Who Is Honored?  One Who Honors Others Aizehu M’chubad, HaM’chabed Es HaB’ryos Perek Daled, Mishna Aleph Part 4 Story:  (based on a true story) I was having lunch at my new friend and coworker Kayla’s house on a rare day off for the both of us.  The public school we both worked at was off, but our older kids were in school, so I bundled up my baby and went off to a “mommy” play date. Kayla had kept Serena, her babysitter and housekeeper, for the day, and Serena was in and out of the dining room as we ate.  She brought Kayla her baby from upstairs, ran downstairs to do the laundry, and cleaned up after us.  Throughout the whole hour and a half, I don’t think Kayla spoke to her except to give her an order.  Even when Serena brought the baby, Kayla said, “Hi my little baby!  Serena, the upstairs bathroom needs to be re-cleaned.” I was amazed.  I remembered how excited Kayla was three months ago about finding a Jewish babysitter when she hired Serena.  She had been without help for weeks and went on and on about what a lovely person Serena was, and now Serena worked around her and she didn’t thank her or say please or say goodbye when she eventually left shortly after we finished eating. I asked Kayla how she was enjoying her help, and she mentioned that Serena was good in general but had been slacking off lately.  She talked about how she had gone through four housekeepers in the last six months because they either stopped showing up or stopped working well.  I tentatively mentioned that Kayla had barely spoken to Serena and she said, “Oh.  I hadn’t noticed.  Maybe you’re right.” I was amazed.  I don’t have every-day help, but I do have a cleaning woman in twice a week.  I try to greet her as she comes in and say goodbye as she leaves, and I ask her if she wants a drink or a snack.  After hearing a shiur about having kavod for all people, I focused on the fact that if Margarita had to take off when her kids were home, then she is a mother just like me, and I began occasionally asking her about her family.  She would answer quickly but with a smile and a “Thank you, Miss.” I politely ask Margarita to do the tasks I need, and she knows that I’m her employer and works hard.  I now realized that she might do nice work for me partly because I am respectful toward her.  And, maybe Kayla can’t keep a housekeeper because there isn’t mutual respect.  If someone doesn’t treat you like a person, you aren’t going to respect or want to help them.  I shudder to think of what Serena says to her family about her job when she goes home. I don’t think Kayla is a bad person.  I think she is a busy, usually tired mother who pays good money for help and has generally relegated its provider to the background.  We all do this to some extent, but I think the effort to remain polite, grateful and to show respect for the people who provide us with a service is important.  I am now also working on remembering to respect the time of the secretaries at both the school I work at and the school I send my kids to, and to ask about their families when I can.  And, I have lately begun to thank the custodians and the garbage men when they take my trash.  My kids think it’s hilarious to hear their mother calling out to the garbage truck, but I recently heard my son offer one of our extra scarves to the men hanging onto the recycling truck, and my daughter thanked the receptionist at her school for her late note and apologized for pulling her off the phone. I don’t know Kayla well enough to talk to her about this.  If I tell her everything I do for Margarita, it will sound self-righteous, and that’s not how I feel.  I think I’ll invite Kayla over some time when Margarita is in, because I think all Kayla really needs to be more respectful to her help is to think about it.  I don’t know if it will help, but I can try.  Pirkay Avos: “Ben Zoma omer:  …Aizehu m’chubad, ham’chabed es hab’ryos, she’ne’emar, ‘Ki m’habdi achabed… .” “Ben Zoma says:  …Who is honored?  He who honors others, as it is said (Sh’muel Alef 1:30), “For those who honor Me I will honor…” (Perek Daled, Mishna Alef). The typical honor accorded to a prominent person is illusory.  People do not genuinely admire such a person but rather the power he represents.  Only a person who treats others respectfully is in turn treated the same way.  A person who has a kind word for every individual and sees the good in everyone may not attain the outer trappings of success.  Nevertheless, people respond warmly to him and hold acquaintance dear. R’ Ovadia of Bartenura states that even people who are truly wise, mighty and wealthy-of whom the mishna initially spoke-do not necessarily attain or even deserve respect, for they may fall prey to pride and come to expect universal obeisance.  Only a person who esteems others will receive respect and appreciation in turn.  It seems somewhat surprising that we prove the significance of honoring people by citing a pasuk that speaks about honoring HaShem.  Perhaps, by citing “For those who honor me I will honor,” the mishna is stating the underlying reason for honoring people-we do so because they

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Interact respectfully with a person you might otherwise take for granted. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute.  Lesson #38 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS Perek Daled, Mishna Bais Heh’vay Ratz L’Mitzva Kala Run to Perform A Minor Mitzva Story:  (based on a true story) This is the story of “that mother” at my childrens’ school.  You know, the one whose name is always showing up on notices and emails as a contact for some program or activity and who the secretary tells you to call when you have a question about things, even though she may hold no elected or appointed position in anything.  That woman.  In my childrens’ school there are a few, and a couple years ago one of them had a daughter in my daughter’s class and we became friends.  I spoke to Perry around the time she was putting together a small school melave malka only a month before her big flagship event that she ran every year.  She was a little frazzled but basically fine, and had called to ask me if I could do her a favor by picking something up for her. I was pretty busy, but since she was a friend I agreed, and the next thing I knew I was helping to set up for the melave malka about a week later.  As we worked, I asked Perry how she ended up helping out with so many school events having only been a school parent for three years.  Her answer was simple. “Basically, I said ‘yes’.  Someone asked me to help her out with serving a Rosh Chodesh treat and I said ‘yes’.  A few weeks later, someone else remembered that I had helped with Rosh Chodesh and asked for my help for a couple hours with a mailing, and I said ‘yes’.  The next thing I knew, I became ‘the person who will say yes when you call her’ and people just kept asking.  Seeing my skepticism that it was that simple, Perry continued, “I always knew I wanted to be involved in the school but didn’t know how to get started.  Apparently, you just do something, and there will be more for you to do.  My goal in the beginning wasn’t to be the head of anything; it was just to be able to lend a hand here and there.” That, I got.  The school definitely needed the help, and I knew from the way the class moms were always begging for classroom volunteers and trip chaperones that every person who helped out once was a big help.  I usually said no because of my work schedule.  But after hearing during the next week from my daughter that her best friend’s working mom had come to bake with the class, I began to wonder if instead of automatically and maybe callously saying “No”, I should look for a way to say “Yes”.  A phone call soon after proved Perry right.  Someone who had seen me setting up for the melave malka called to ask if I could help supervise the elementary girls’ chagiga coming up.  It was after my work hours and when my husband was home, and I was easily able to agree.  Within two weeks of the event, I was approached to help out with a music program that truly held my interest and through which I could really give something valuable to the girls.  That was harder because it was during work, but I already felt connected enough to helping the school to make an extra effort, so I tentatively approached my boss and found that I could easily switch my work days.  I am becoming “that mother”, and finding that there are way more of them than I had realized.  They don’t always have their names in school or shul or community bulletins, and sometimes all that work is within their families or on their blocks, but the theme is the same:  they start small, and then the more they do, the more they get to do. Pirkay Avos: “Ben Azzai omer:  Heh’vay ratz l’mitzva kala…she’mitzva go’re’res mitzva…she’s’char mitva mitzva… .” “Ben Azzai says:  Run to perform a minor mitzva…for one mitzva leads to another mitzva…for the reward of a mitzva is a mitzva…” (Perek Daled, Mishna Bais). Rashi defines a “light mitzva” as “one that appears easy to you”, i.e., it is not expensive, difficult to perform or time consuming.  What then is the point of Ben Azzai urging us to perform such mitzvos?  Do we truly need motivation to do so?  The answer is that Ben Azie’s intent is not to persuade us to perform these mitzvos; rather, he seeks to inspire us to do so with passion:  “run to a light mitzva.” The mishna here is recommending that when performing a mitzva, we focus entirely on the mitzva we are presently performing, regardless of its status compared to other mitzvos.  If we recall that we are primarily observing mitzvos because of our desire to perform HaShem’s will, rather than because of the reward awaiting us, we would make no distinction between mitzvos.  The words of Ben Azzai complement and complete the teaching of Ben Zoma:  “Who is mighty?  One who conquers his inclination.”  After learning Ben Zoma’s words, a person is liable to feel inadequate.  How can he conquer his inclination?  Most people barely manage to deal with life’s everyday challenges.  Ben Azzai answers this question.  It is not expected that you will one day arise and slay your inclination.  All that is required is that you perform an easy mitzva.  Performing an easy mitzva leads to more challenging mitzvos.  If a person finds bentching easy and recites it properly, he will find it easier to daven correctly.  We should begin even by performing mitzvos with tainted intent, for “from ulterior motives, one comes to pure motives” (P’sachim 50b).  When a person accustoms himself to run to perform a mitzva, no matter how easy it may be,

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Look for an opportunity to do provide a manageable amount of help to someone. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. Lesson #39 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS Do Not Belittle Anyone Al T’Hi Buz L’Chol Adam Perek Daled, Mishna Gimmel Story:  (based on a true story) It was my oldest daughter’s eighth grade year, and that meant high school search time.   We researched and asked and talked to everyone who knew anything, and one school kept on being mentioned to us and really sounded like it would be a good fit for our daughter.  So, while we applied to several schools, Shifra was most anxious about this first choice school.  She spent two days picking out an outfit before the interview, and off we went to meet the principal. We got to the school and found they were running late.  As we sat outside the office waiting, I saw a familiar looking woman talking to the secretary.  Shifra noticed my glance and asked, “Do you know Mrs. Davidson?  She was so amazing at the open house.   She gave the main shiur when you were at that mother’s thing, and she was completely mind blowing.  I heard she’s one of the best teachers here, but you don’t get her until tenth grade.”      I looked again.  Yes, I did know her.  She was wearing a short shaitel now instead of the long highlighted hair I was used to, but it was definitely Talia Kramer from my high school class.  Talia, who often left for the bathroom in the middle of Navi class and didn’t come back.  Talia, who was frequently seen wearing the office loaner skirt because hers wasn’t long enough.  Talia, who was an active member of the chessed club but rarely an active participant in her Judaic education.  In general, I didn’t have much to do with her, nor did I want to.      We studied together for a chumash final once.  She had missed almost a week of class because of the flu and asked me to help her catch up.  It was a surprising night for me.   I expected to have to really push her to go through the work, but she was pretty driven.  She was good with the concepts, even the complicated and really thoughtful ones.  What she wasn’t good with was Hebrew, and she seemed kind of ashamed of it.      She worked really hard that night, and I felt like we had connected while discussing the personal applications of some of the concepts covered.  But, she was never interested in studying with me again, and I think I fell back into thinking of her as a slacker.  A year later, we had graduated and were off to very different types of seminaries.  I vaguely remembered her deciding to stay in Israel for college at Bar Ilan.  And, now, here she was.      Shifra was called in for the individual part of her interview, and after greeting the principal, I went over to Talia to catch up.  She recognized me, and together we remembered the late night of studying and a couple of grade-wide occurrences from school.  I didn’t really know what to say after that:  I couldn’t very well say, “Congratulations on being here-I never thought you would be.” Talia seemed to understand my predicament.  She explained that seminary was eye-opening and nurturing for her, helping her to connect to the Torah despite her weak Hebrew skills without making her feel stupid.  She had also connected with Eretz Yisrael, and had stayed on for a second year and then as a madricha in her seminary while she went to college.  Eventually she began to teach there, and she moved back to the US a few years into her marriage and continued her career.      “I know people judged me in high school,” she said, “and I guess with the way I acted it’s hard to blame them.  Sometimes I felt like people would put me in a certain box.  The fact that I was struggling with tzni’us didn’t mean I couldn’t work on a food drive.  And, my being not so good at and maybe less serious about limudai kodesh didn’t mean that I was an idiot or not a worthy person.  I really appreciated your taking the time to study with me for that final; you took me seriously.”       It was now clear why Talia Kramer was the famed Mrs. Davidson, educator extraordinaire.  She knew what it was to struggle, academically, socially and religiously, and she knew the value of motivation, support and respect.  I hoped Shifra would have her as a teacher, and Talia said she would try to put in a good word for her at the school. I realized that I had seen hints of this in high school, and now wished I had spent more time with her, or at least said a cheerful hello every morning.  Not just because she might one day be my daughter’s teacher, but because who she was then was worth knowing and respecting.  Pirkay Avos: “Hu haya omer:  Al t’hi buz l’chol adam…she’ain lo adam she’ain lo sha’a… “ “He (Ben Azzai) used to say, Do not belittle anyone…for there is no man who does not  have his time… .” (Perek Daled, Mishna Gimmel). Rashi and R’ Ovadia of Bartenura interpret this mishna as teaching that someone who is powerless and harmless today may in the future gain power and then possibly cause harm or refuse one’s request for aid.  To forestall that possibility, we must not treat anyone disrespectfully.  However, most commentators explain the initial phrase to mean, “Do not belittle anyone, since you do not know what he will achieve in the future.  For instance, Yosef’s brothers mocked him:  “Let us see what shall become of his dreams” (B’raishis 37:20).  But in the end, it was Yosef who saved them and their families from famine. Chasid

Review: Last week’s stretch of the week was:  Say hello to someone you rarely pay attention to, and think of something positive about them. Please allow ONE person to share her experience with this exercise for ONE minute. Lesson #40 PIRKAY AVOS–ETHICS OF OUR FATHERS Be Very, Very Humble Perek Daled, Mishna Daled M’ode M’ode Hevai Sh’fal Ruach Story:  (based on a true story) In my journey in life I’ve learned that humility isn’t something that can necessarily be learned from mere explanation.  The many facets of what it takes to be a humble person must also be taught by example.  I have been blessed to have been taught this lesson by my parents, a”h.  Back in the early 80’s while I was in grade school, my father worked with a man named Moe who was diagnosed with a life threatening illness and was forced to take a leave of absence.  My father truly liked this man and would call and check up on him, each time finding out that his coworker was getting sicker and sicker.  One day I saw my father at the kitchen table with a stack of get well cards – there must have been close to thirty in the pile.  My father was taking each one and writing little messages, some silly and some sincere and encouraging.  All ended pretty much the same, with “Everyone misses you!  So many people love and care about you!  Stay strong!”  He mailed Moe a card or two a week, and signed none of them.  When I asked why, he replied, “He doesn’t need to know that these cards are from me specifically.  He just needs the messages.” When I was even younger, my mother was driving us home from the grocery store when she saw an elderly lady walking towards a bus stop.  When the woman’s brown paper grocery bag ripped and all her food tumbled out across the sidewalk, my mother pulled the car over, got out, and proceeded to help the stranger pick up all the groceries.  The next thing I knew, she was helping this woman and her groceries into our car and driving her home.  When we reached the woman’s house, she tried to give my mother some money while thanking her profusely.  My mother sternly refused the money over and over.  “Absolutely not!  This was my good deed, it’s not for sale!” Nowadays, I’m grown-up with children of my own and I’m still learning humility, while working on teaching my children these lessons as well.  A year ago I was asked to be the set director for my daughter’s school play.  I really got into my role, devising clever ways to get supplies we needed on a low budget, with successful results.  There was one girl in her school that hated the set design and props and needled me constantly with snide remarks.  I calmly spoke to her several times, but her attitude remained. This girl was a senior and was randomly assigned the job of “HaKaras HaTov” gifts to be presented at the cast party after the show.  When it came time for the gifts to be given out, my daughter whispered to me while giggling, “Get ready, you’re going to have to go up there soon!  All the directors receive a little gift and say a little something-it’s such an honor!”  We watched as the main director was called up with cheers and hoots.  Then the music director and the costume director.  And then — nothing.  It was noticed.  Everyone painfully looked around and stared at me sitting with my daughter.  I plastered on a smile and whispered to my daughter to do the same.  Then we watched as the main director turned to the girl in charge and quietly asked about Mrs. Zalcman’s gift.  The girl in charge shrugged her shoulders and I could see the other directors were very uncomfortable and I felt horrible for them.  My daughter was close to tears.  I would be a liar if I didn’t admit that my ego was bruised, and my feelings were hurt at my obvious snub.  But then I remembered my father, a”h, selflessly writing those many cards to Moe, honoring his friend and taking no credit whatsoever.  I remembered my mother, a”h, refusing to take any money for doing a mitzva, even though she could have used it.  I took a deep breath, kept that smile on my face and whispered to my daughter to do the same.  My ego wouldn’t rule me; I would rule my ego.  Once we got in the car, my daughter started to cry and told me how much she wanted me to get that gift for all I had done for the show.  My heart broke for her.  But like in life, I told her, not everyone gets what they want or expect – and I never did this job for the kudos or the gift.  Just the fact that she appreciated me meant the world to me, and I knew that so many others in that auditorium did too.  However, when doing a chessed, like this job of helping the school out, one must never expect anything back.  Better I reap my reward for the chessed and quietly hold my head up high.  My daughter dried her tears and we shared a hug of understanding.  In the end, passing on a lesson of humility was my true reward. Pirkay Avos: “Rabi Levitas ish Yavne omer:  M’ode m’ode hevai sh’fal ruach… “ “Rabi Levitas of Yavne says:  Be very, very humble… .” (Perek Daled, Mishna Daled). This mishna uses an unusual expression, found nowhere else in Pirkai Avos:  “very, very.”  He implies that one must strive for absolutely total humility.  The repeated words refer to two aspects of humility.  The first is, as stated by Ben Azzai previously, honoring others.  The second, as postulated in the present mishna, is the awareness of one’s own shortcomings.  In Chasidic parlance, this is why a person has two eyes: