I failed my first test this morning.
In a cozy living room in the Jewish Quarter of the Old City,
I sat last night in a class on Orchos Tzadikim, given
by Rebbetzin Tziporah Heller, and realized that while I
thought I was a pretty giving person, I was not up to par to
the standards that Hashem sets for us. On the way back from
Jerusalem to my home in Beit Shemesh, I made a commitment to
any small bouts of chessed that might come my way. We
learned that to be considered a nedivah, a generous
being, one has to do acts of kindness habitually, until they
become manifested in the personality.
It is Hashem's will that my husband and my children are the
precious sponges that soak my will to give; their needs come
before others, since only I am their wife and mother, but I
have noticed that I have been slipping in other realms. When
the house is quiet, the dinner is made, the children are in
gan or asleep, my direction turns automatically inward, and
the `me' time becomes too much of a priority. I'd prefer more
than anything at these times to slip myself onto the couch
with a hot cup of tea and do anything mindlessly selfish.
When did I lose my tigress zeal for chessed
opportunities? Did I lose it in the shifting of one domain to
another, from community chessed to personal, familial
chessed? Did I lose it in the morning sickness, the
night feedings, and the toddler tantrums? Or did I lose it
more recently in the ecstatic chaos of leaving our families
and friends and moving from Brooklyn, NY to Israel? For
the so many moments in the last few years, when putting
myself first may have been justified (grabbing a nap while
the baby was sleeping, spending the money on a new sweater to
gain a feeling of freshness again, using an afternoon hour
for much needed exercise instead of attending a charity
function), something foreign must have seeped in. In
situations that didn't warrant it, I began to feel "I'm
entitled."
Look how the evil inclination sneaks in when we forget to
keep a pulse on ourselves! So last night when I learned that
rather than doing big bouts of chessed, sometimes it's
preferrable to do small increments constantly, I took the
challenge, first, in the tiniest of ways. I said that I would
try to say yes, no not just yes, but YES!!! to opportunities
that I may encounter. (Notice that I didn't require myself to
go out with my hands filled with shopping bags of canned
goods hunting for people in need, just chessed that
came and sought me out.)
Hashem, in His attuned ear for our desire for growth, sent me
a phone call at seven a.m. It was my neighbor Gena asking if
I had spare milk to lend. Gena and I have the perfect
neighbor relationship that ever existed. Ever. I love her.
During the week and especially while cooking for Shabbos, we
swing through one another's doors multiple times a day
borrowing spare flour, oil, bread crumbs, a carrot, anything.
We swap seforim, and share gems of inspirational
divrei Torah on the way to errands. Though, now that I
think about it, I definitely need her more than she needs me.
She provides me with her daughter who is my star babysitter,
and she leaves her gate open for my girls to swing in her
playground. So in a way, I owe her.
So at seven she called me. Because my two oldest daughters (2
and 3 1/2) were awake and taking care of themselves (my
husband had this great idea of keeping milk in cups in the
refrigerator for them to serve themselves breakfast —
well it worked!) and the baby was sleeping (after two night
feedings), I remained like a log in bed, with my eyes
shut.
The phone rang like a siren in my dream, and the conversation
went something like this:
"Hello," I said groggily.
"Lori," she said in her fabulous British accent. Do you have
any spare milk?"
"Mmmmmmm. Maaaaybe." (Or it might have been "Eeeeeeeeerrr
maybe" or Uuuuuuuuuu maybe.")
"You're sleeping. I'm so sorry. Forget it. Bye." Hang up. "No
wait, Gena—"
What I did was I closed my eyes back again and tried to catch
up to my dream. Did I really need the extra six and a half
minutes of sleep? Isn't Hashem the Provider of energy, and
wouldn't He perhaps have bestowed me my needed lot during the
day?
When I trudged out the door this morning, I gave Gena a
heartfelt apology. She looked at me a bit wide eyed because
of my overdramatic "I'm sorry", being unaware of my new
commitment, and apologized for waking me up.
I have found in the past that the most sure-fire way to see
Hashem answer your prayers to the affirmative is to pray for
opportunities for spiritual growth. In my prayers for today I
made sure to add in that Hashem continue to provide me more
opportunities, however embarrassing my efforts have been, and
He should help me use the right judgment, and have the
strength to implement kindness in His world.
The day isn't over yet.
