There's a man I see who goes around with some kind of spice-
herb in his hand and asks men to make a blessing and take a
whiff. I mentioned this to a neighbor and she said that she's
seen him, too, and this is what he does all day. Mezake es
horabbim. She said that when he dies, he'll be in a
wonderfully aromatic part of Gan Eden.
Ever since my son has known that there's something other than
mother's milk, I've been giving him candy to take to shul
with him on Shabbos morning. Now that I want him to shift his
focus from what he puts into his mouth to what he puts forth
from his mouth, or what he gives as opposed to what he takes,
he's become the Candyman. I give him a bag of small candies
to distribute among the good children in shul to train
them in brochos and keep them quiet.
Besides all the daily mitzvos we all are required to
keep and the special ones we were personally sent here to do,
we all have a favorite mitzva, not one we do out of
obligation but one we especially love to perform and for
which are willing to go `the extra mile.' It's our own
personal kiddush Hashem, our way of showing
appreciation to Him for His special attention towards us.
In my building, we have one woman who bakes challos
for her closest neighbors, another who gives out flowers for
Shabbos, a few women who share cake they've baked, one who
gives her large living room for the neighbors to gather and
say Tehillim on Friday evening. Everyone gives of herself in
her own way to make sure her sisters' Shabbos is `a taste of
Olom Haba..
We all have some gift we can use to personalize our
mitzvos, to make them like no one else's, to bring a
measure of the Next World to this temporary one, and to take
some of olom hazeh to that Other World. It's an added
ingredient expressing our love for our fellow man and for our
Father.
I have a feeling that when I look down from my heavenly
bleacher in 80 years time, I'll still see my son passing out
candies in shul. Hopefully, he will graduate to
something much finer but still hold on to this habit. And as
I do, the guy with the spices will pass me by with his herbs
and say, "Have a whiff." And, oh, what a heavenly aroma it
will have!
