Ninety-five square meters (= roughly 1,022 square feet) may not sound like much to the American ear, but here in Eretz Yisrael large families somehow manage to make it work. So the fact that my Yerushalmi neighbors are raising upwards of ten children (and often host married children and grandchildren) in their tiny apartment doesn’t come as a surprise. But leave it to life (read: Hashem) to teach you something new every day.
This family has a married daughter who, back in her teenage years, would often look after a special-needs child almost every Shabbos. One erev Shabbos, I saw – for the first time – my neighbor’s kids walking Yaakov* up the path that leads to the entrance of our building. Generally, erev Shabbos is a time that finds me inside the home; so I guess that’s why I never witnessed this sight before that Friday despite having already been an occupant in the building for some years. But for that particular Shabbos, I had some important guests coming that I suppose I felt a need to make a good impression on, and I galvanized some child residents (with candies) to help clean up the environs. So I was outdoors and got to see some Friday happenings that I had never noticed before.
Parenthetically, the candy-giving tactic worked amazingly! My wife – who seems to have a far better understanding of children than I do – told me that it’s not the candy, but the fact that the children get to work hard and receive recognition and compensation. It makes them feel good. Ok, I’ll buy that.
In any event, when I saw my neighbor’s kids escorting Yaakov – a very sweet looking boy who has Down’s syndrome – to their home, that was when it really hit home. My wife told me that our neighbors also sometimes host children that are wheelchair-bound or otherwise severely disabled.
It finally registered.
Despite the fact that their home would be considered overcrowded by any North American yardstick (or Israeli meter-stick for that matter), they accept another child for Shabbos to do this chesed for the child and his/her family. Children demand a lot of work, and a child with special-needs often requires much more. Truthfully, I am not sure what to be more impressed by: the fact that my neighbors are happy to host a special-needs child for Shabbos in their already full home, or that they raised a daughter who already as a teenager was possessed of such remarkable caring and drive to do chesed.
At one point on Shabbos, I saw my neighbor with some of his children and their guest Yaakov, and the latter called him abba. I was flabbergasted. “He calls you abba?!” I asked, incredulous. “Yeah,” my neighbor responded in a completely nonchalant tone of voice; as if to say, “What’s the big deal?”
Now, with such things I have an internal “defense mechanism” that broadcasts: “Wow, so amazing! But definitely not for me. I could never do that!” I imagine that I am not alone in this (then again, maybe that’s another “defense mechanism”), but I don’t know how comforting that should be…
During a Shabbos-table discussion, my neighbors’ amazing chesed came up. Someone at the table suggested I write an inspiring article about it. But there was another thing that came up in the course of that discussion: scorpions. That’s right, scorpions! Believe it or not, the two stories have a lot to do with one another.
It was on a tiyul with my kids in the mountains a good number of years ago. To make the excursion a bit more interesting for my kids (and, admittedly, myself) I rolled over a few big stones. With my feet, mind you, so as to avoid snake and scorpion bites. Despite my personal experience never having substantiated the concern of that particular safety-protocol, I have always adhered to it. Probably more out of sheer fear than a mature sense of responsibility. Oh, and my personal experience not substantiating the concern? That was only until that very day. One of the double-watermelon-size stones rolled over to reveal a big, black scorpion! I couldn’t decide if his claws or tail looked more menacing. My alarmed musings, though, did not last long. Within a couple of seconds, the scorpion quickly moved – in reverse! – back under his uprooted home. I followed suit, albeit in forward motion, and quickly shepherded myself and my children along our way.
Ok, so what was this scorpion doing in my Shabbos-table conversation, and what does it have to do with my neighbors’ exemplary chesed?
“When I rolled over that huge stone,” I expounded to the party-of-one who was actually listening to me despite the allure of the steaming cholent, “I exposed that scorpion to a whole new world of light and fresh air. And how did it react to the revelation of a great beautiful world? Retreat! Retreat back into his familiar world of oppressive constriction and darkness!”
Sometimes, we act like that, don’t we? Maybe it was a shiur, an uplifting experience, or becoming aware of a neighbor’s superlative middah. Whole new vistas of achievements and qualities previously assumed impossible open up before our very eyes! And how do we often react? “Amazing! But not for me!”
Of course, I really only speak for myself. Surely, many people wholeheartedly embrace tall-order inspiration. But for those who relate to my knee-jerk, scorpion-like way of thinking: we don’t really want to behave like that scorpion, do we?
Here’s the million dollar question, though: how? If we really do feel that certain levels of greatness, chesed, or middos are beyond us – just not realistic at this stage of the game – what do we do? Great question! And I confess: I don’t know the answer.
But, maybe we can suggest an answer. A step in the right direction.
We can start shifting our thought patterns. As surprising yet simple as this may sound, perhaps we don’t have to submit to ingrained thought patterns. When the thought “I could never do that!” pops into your mind, tell yourself, “That’s not true! Says who that I could never do it?! Maybe one day I will do such a thing! Even if I don’t feel that it’s possible at this stage of my life, people grow; and the fact that I’ve witnessed it brings me one step closer to one day doing it myself!”
And it truly does.