You know how you sometimes get locked into a situation and
you find all your thoughts revolving around it, returning to
it? That's how it was with the shalat, the cigarette-
box sized remote control device that opened the barrier
leading to the parking compound behind Rechov Rashi 91.
Rashi 91, to the uninformed, is Beged Yad Leyad's second
clothing center in Jerusalem. When we first occupied the
basement at No. 91, we had to order the shalat so
that we could have access to our center by van, to bring
presorted clothing or to have our Shmatte man pick up our
discards suitable for recycling. It had to be ordered in
Talpiyot and cost 160 shekel (about $40), but it was
necessary and it served the purpose.
About two weeks ago, I lost my shalat, I guessed, in
being transferred from one handbag that was beyond repair to
another. Since this had taken place in my bedroom, I made a
thorough Pesach cleaning to find it. Even my husband pitched
in, moving the beds, lifting the mattresses and searching
high and low, mainly low.
It was nowhere to be found.
Now, I have had great Heavenly assist in life through the
segula of invoking R' Binyomin and acnowledging that
"we are all as blind ones until Hashem comes along and opens
our eyes." This segula-formula has been borne out
time after time, when I have even found the missing object
in the very place that I had searched for it moments
before... before reciting that helpful little prayer.
A coin for R' Meir Baal Haness in an appropriate
pushke is a second resort, which usually gives the
search an added impetus until the lost object is
retrieved.
Beyond this is more major prayers, short impromptu ones at
odd times, and concentrated requests at the daily catch-all
of Shema koleinu in Shemone esrai, where I ask
for whatever I currently need, short- and long-range
requests.
For about a week, this shalat was on my mind and my
lips throughout the day. Ordering a new one could not be
done in the near future since it required the landlord to go
all the way to Talpiyot, and he was very involved in the
registration for several Torah schools in various
neighborhoods; his family happens to be a powerhouse of
Kiruv work. Besides, a new shalat would be an added
160 shekel off Tzedoka money, which gave me a guilty
feeling, since I had lost the object.
The alternative interim solution was to call up the landlord
whenever I anticipated the need for the shalat --- at
seven a.m., before he left, and have him leave it at home.
This also meant that if the barrier was down, I would have
to get out of the van, go all around to the back to fetch
it, and then reverse the process when the van left.
An inconvenience, but not the-end-of-the-world. So why did I
take it so much to heart? Like I said, people get locked in
their small problems.
Then came the Thursday when the Shmatte man came to take
away the rags, an accumulated 70-80 bags taking up a lot of
room. A cause for celebration. I duly remembered to call up
in the morning and ask that the bothersome shalat be
left on the premises.
*
As we turned in to Rashi 91, I had a surprise waiting for
me.
My prayers had been answered.
As my customers often say when they find exactly what they
had been looking for, "Hashem Gadol." He is bigger
than our prayers. He `thinks' BIG.
The road barrier was gone.
It had been removed altogether, yanked out of its holder; by
the city, which is constructing a rapid transportation
system, and needed free and constant access to the very
parking area I so coveted. Since they couldn't supply all of
their trucks with a remote control device -- which cost 160
shekel apiece -- they had decided to do away with the
barrier altogether.
*
I was flabbergasted. And the implication of this lesson
suddenly struck me - - Remote Control. The Chofetz Chaim
notes that many of today's modern inventions come to teach
us, graphically -- with realism that the modern
sophistication of science and technology has robbed from the
trusting, also imaginative, minds of previous generations --
that Hashem SEES (cameras, movie and video cameras), HEARS
(tape recorders, telephones, cellphones), RECORDS (fill this
in yourselves) everything that needs permanency. Distance is
no impediment.
Of course we know that Hashem is Mokom; HE is
PLACE. But sometimes we need the example to illustrate
it.
I had learned that Hashem is in CONTROL, remotely-cum-on-the-
spot. It is all one and the same.
This incident picqued my curiosity and sent me scurrying to
my Concordance to see if the root for `control,' sh-l-
t, was to be found there in the modern form as well. Its
relevance screamed to me. What I found did not quite satisfy
me. There were many entries from Doniel in Aramaic,
including some with the specific form of sholton.
I don't know exactly how this noun form is translated, but I
liked the sound of it. To me, it conjures up something
tangible, something you can hold. My imagination shot
forward to the Rosh Hashona prayers and the verse there
seemed just right, "For we know, Hashem our G-d, that
hasholton is before You... Power is in YOUR HAND..."
as if it were some kind of scepter, some sort of device,
maybe built into the Heavenly Throne, whereby Hashem
commands and directs things on earth... (Not that He needs
it, of course, but we need the figure of speech.)
Remote control...
I still haven't found the darned thing, but I found
something far better, a word to conjure with...
[P.S. At this point, I couldn't help feeling the need for a
new research work, a Concordance for our prayers. Where
could I have found this interesting word, sholton, if
it had not been stored away in my memory, engraved there by
the rousing renditions of our local Yomim Noroim baalei
tefila and ready on-call? So if any scholar is looking
for a project, how about a Concordance on the
siddur/machzor?]
