A friend once told me that during the 1970s, her husband took
a teaching position in an outreach oriented day school
somewhere in the American Southeast.
The school was fairly new and the community was not exactly a
hotbed of religious activity, at least not Jewish religious
activity. Therefore, the school's board offered an attractive
compensation package to prospective members of the teaching
staff.
This was during a period of worldwide economic recession.
They did not have any difficulty attracting excellent,
seasoned teachers from outside their area.
The school year went well and this friend and her husband
decided to stay on. They happily renewed their contract. Then
came the summer. As they say, "It wasn't the heat as much as
the humidity."
Several of the new faculty families lived in a apartment
complex near the school. The units were fairly small and
close together. There wasn't much cross ventilation. The hot
humid air just seemed to sit there all day and all night,
hardly moving. The one saving grace was that each apartment
was equipped with a fairly strong air conditioner. So long as
the air conditioner was on, the apartment was livable.
One particularly warm and oppressively humid day, my friend
was home preparing for Shabbos and ran out of sugar to finish
her baking. She went down the hall to borrow a cup of sugar
from her friend and neighbor, a very bright Israeli woman
whose husband was also teaching at the school. When the
neighbor's child opened the door, she could hear sounds
coming from the kitchen, so she followed the little boy in
that direction.
As she entered, a wave of intense heat came towards her. "Oh,
dear," mumbled my friend. "I wouldn't have bothered you. I
didn't realize your air conditioner had conked out. As soon
as you finish what you are doing, why don't you gather up
your children and come over to my place. How can you manage
to cook on a day like this without air conditioning?"
"Shhhh!" said the neighbor. "My children don't know we have
an air conditioner. We have never turned it on. Our apartment
in Bnei Brak doesn't have air conditioning and if we use the
unit here, the children will get used to it. Then when we go
home next year, they will complain about the lack of air
conditioning there. Better to do without."
I often think of that story, and about the wisdom of the Bnei
Brak mother. The following anecdote shows why I find it
particularly relevant today.
Some of the women from my neighborhood were on the way to a
lecture. In the van, one of the women mentioned that she
comes from a small, middle class American family and
therefore, her parents were able to give gifts to her and her
children and to buy them nice things when they came to
visit.
She and her husband are blessed with a large family and are
looking forward to marrying off their oldest son and daughter
within the next few months. She can't foresee being able to
pop in to see her married children with an expensive bakery
cake in one hand and a costly toy in the other, as her
parents did when her children were small.
Her husband can't imagine ever being able to take out his
checkbook and telling the children," Your couch has seen
better days. Here, buy yourself a new one - on me." But the
children grew up in a house where that was a frequent
occurrence and now they are going to be disappointed if they
have to live on a lower income level than their parents.
Her children haven't been trained to take care of their
possessions to try to make them last for a lifetime because
in her house they didn't have to. Yes, it is very difficult
to downscale. It is far better to live a simple, frugal life
with an occasional splurge, such as a pizza on Rosh Chodesh
to liven things up. Your children will be pleasantly
surprised if their own lives have those little splurges a bit
more often, but they will not be disappointed if their
budgets are as lean as the one they are used to.
Our mailboxes are filled with slick advertisements, but when
we see something that is clearly a luxury, we should train
ourselves to think, "Better to do without." Why get your
daughters used to Shabbos dresses that look more like evening
gowns, with hair ornaments to match?
Why have studio photo portraits taken of your almost three-
year-old son and another batch a week later when his curls
have actually been shorn? Does a friend have a camera? Borrow
it and take two shots before and two after. The grandparents
will appreciate those as much as professional pictures, and
who else even cares?
It is very easy to get used to living well. Going in the
other direction is much harder. When faced with budgetary
decisions and lifestyle choices, it is often wise to choose
to "do without."
But what if we have already stepped onto the fiscal up
escalator? What if our families are already luxury oriented?
What can we do to set things right? For starters, we can
teach our young children the beauty of a simple life by
reading them stories about the great rabbis of past
generations who chose to live with few material
possessions.
There is the famous story of the rich American who went to
Radin to visit the Chofetz Chaim and was astounded to find
the leader of his generation living in a small hut with very
little in the way of furniture.
The man asked the Chofetz Chaim where his furniture was and
the great sage turned the question around to ask the same
thing of his visitor. "You are a wealthy man, but I don't see
any of your furnishings," he said.
"Ah," replied the guest, "that is because I am a visitor. I
am only passing through Radin." The Chofetz Chaim smiled and
said, "And I do not have many possessions either because I,
too, an only passing through."
The next step is to teach this lesson by example. If you are
in a shopping area with your children, purchase only the few
items on your list (and prepare one at home). Lighten up on
impulse buying. If a woman goes into the city center with the
stated purpose of buying thermal undershirts for her
children, but she can't resist buying herself an expensive
Shabbos suit just because it was nicely displayed in a store
window, or on sale (and still relatively expensive), all the
stories of frugal gedolim will go straight out the
window.
If you truly need a new Shabbos outfit, try to find one that
is a bit less expensive than the one that is starting to wear
out. Shop carefully. Look for a garment that is made well and
looks as though it will last. Keep in mind that buying a suit
that is the same color as the old one will ensure that your
shoes and accessories will match. Even if the store is having
a terrific sale and there are racks and racks of beautiful
outfits at great prices, brace yourself and buy only one
suit.
Remember, it was the old `you' who found it necessary to buy
a third or fourth Shabbos suit to hang in the closet and keep
the other ones company. The new `you' says:
"Better to do without!"
