Seven-year-old Meir was playing out in the field. It was a
beautiful, balmy day and the field was covered with fresh
green grass, dotted with little colorful flowers and spring
was in the air. The little flowers swayed in the light breeze
and looking at this beautiful carpet-like lawn, he felt like
jumping and skipping like the goats and sheep. He ran quickly
to the courtyard where he fetched his pet goat and led it to
the field. The next few hours were filled with excitement as
both Meir and his pet goat cavorted, pranced and ran here and
there and even rolled on the green grass.
Meir completely forgot the time as he and the goat played in
the field. It was his mother's call that brought him back to
reality and he went home reluctantly.
As soon as he entered the house, he realized that something
was wrong. The table was set for lunch but his mother was
standing by the window, holding a handkerchief to her eyes.
He came closer and looked at her, "Why are you crying, Mama?"
he asked.
"Why am I crying? You tell me first what you were doing all
morning and then I'll tell you why I'm crying . . . " She
tried to smile but, instead, the tears kept rolling down her
cheeks.
Meir recalled the beautiful day he had had out in the field
and started telling his mother about it. She let him speak,
but he soon realized that his words were making her cry all
the more.
"I'll tell you why I'm crying, Meir. It's all because of you.
Instead of learning, as you should have, you spent your day
playing with a goat! You have better things to do with your
time! Tatte and I hired a special tutor from the city to come
here and teach you but he never showed up. It is a week since
Pesach and he is still not here. I am afraid he changed his
mind. Perhaps he found a better paying job as a
melamed elsewhere and didn't let us know."
Seven-year-old Meir stood near his mother and tried to
comfort her. "He will surely still come!" he said, but his
mother was not consoled. "I can go back to the cheder
and learn with the children there . . . " She shook her head
and he understood that his parents were determined not to
send him there. They wanted their son to have a private
tutor, even though they would have to cut down on some of the
comforts, if not necessities, of life.
"Even if he does come by tomorrow, you will have lost this
day. Remember, Meir, every day you don't learn Torah is
forever a lost day! You will never be able to get it back!"
She hugged her son and led him to the table. He drank his
fresh milk, ate his vegetables and then went over to the
window to sit and think. Somehow, the beautiful world outside
no longer beckoned as before; it was not as bright as before
. . .
The gate to the courtyard squeaked and Meir turned to look
who could be coming. A young man walked up the path. He
looked like a yeshiva student; this must be his
melamed. A few moments later, his mother called to him
and introduced him to Reb Yitzchok, who would be his tutor
for the next few years. Meir studied diligently, but whenever
he slacked down, she would prompt him to rededicate himself.
"A day lost is lost forever; it will never come back! Learn
Torah steadily and don't lose a single day of your life."
*
The hall was packed. The dais was crowded with famous
Rabbonim, among them the revered Chofetz Chaim. The crowd was
impatiently awaiting the commencement of the Agudath Israel
convention, but it was being delayed for some reason.
Suddenly, the elderly Chofetz Chaim rose to his feet and
stood erect. All the rabbonim on the dais stood up, too, and
when they rose, it was a signal for everyone in the audience
to rise to their feet as well.
A young man strode in purposefully from the entrance to the
hall and crossed it until he reached the dais. He shook hands
with all the prestigious rabbis and was then introduced by
the Chofetz Chaim.
He had a new idea to present to the crowd, something
revolutionary, he said. It was called the "Daf
Hayomi." He went on to explain what it was. All Jews
around the world would be united by studying the selfsame
page of gemora on the same day. If everyone progressed
at the rate of one page a day, without missing out on any
day, then "Not a day would be lost," and the world over,
whenever two Jews met, they would be able to study together,
as if they had known each other for years and never left off
their study.
The crowd in the hall nodded as the idea began to seep in and
soon they were clapping hands excitedly. The idea was
implemented immediately and took root.
R' Meir Shapira, the Maharam Lublin, head of Yeshivas
Chachmei Lublin and initiator of the universal Daf Hayomi,
always said that his mother could take credit for the idea
since she was the one who had instilled in him the importance
of every single day.
"A lost day will never come," she had often said. "Value each
day and learn a page of the holy gemora."
