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13 Kislev 5766 - December 14, 2005 | Mordecai Plaut, director Published Weekly
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Home and Family

On Small Jars and Big Concepts
by Bayla Gimmel

In this week's parshah, we learn that Yaakov Ovinu remained all alone, across the river, separated from his entire family, because he had returned to get some small jars that had been left behind. Rashi teaches us that tzaddikim are careful with their possessions, and also guard against any hint of theft or impropriety.

We can certainly understand this. If an earthly king were to give us a gift, we would treasure it and use it wisely. The righteous know that everything they possess is a gift from the King of kings and therefore should be appreciated and given proper care and consideration.

My parents' generation lived through the Great Depression of the 1930s and the shortages and rationing of World War II, more than a decade of "doing without." Even years later, during the post-war economic boom, the people of that generation turned off the electric light each time they left a room, bought only the amount of food they felt they needed, and found creative uses for any leftovers that remained after a meal.

Soup chicken was recycled as croquettes, pot pie or chicken a la king. Leftover challah became French toast, or was dried for breading, and sour milk was used for pancakes or biscuits.

They kept their furniture in mint condition, polishing it until it glowed. Years after my parents and in-laws passed away, their children and grandchildren are using their chairs and tables, not to mention my mother-in-law's perfect- condition cedar chest that her parents gave her in the 1920s when she became engaged.

It wasn't just that generation. Jewish people throughout the ages have taken care of their possessions. My paternal grandparents were married in Poland in the 1890s. My 16-year- old grandmother received a coral necklace as her bridal present.

She wore it for almost 40 years and gave it to my aunt, who wore it even longer. When my aunt gave it to me shortly before she passed away, the necklace was almost a hundred years old but it looked brand new. I am happy to say it still does.

A couple of years ago, I attended a pidyan haben. A young woman took off her gold locket to put on the tray with the infant who was being redeemed. When baby, tray and jewelry were returned to the women's section, this young lady retrieved her locket. But she didn't put it on. She absentmindedly gave it to the one-year-old daughter who was sitting on her lap.

The toddler put it in her mouth, passed it from hand to hand and tired of it, dropping it after a few minutes. The locket didn't make much of an impression on her. However, the little girl made quite an impression on the locket. Gold is soft. The locket came back to the mother permanently engraved with a row of teeth marks!

The one-year-old had not been crying hysterically and did not need something to distract or pacify her. The mother simply did not value the locket (which very likely was her bas mitzvah or kallah present) and therefore gave it to her young child to play with.

Unfortunately, this is not the only example of people today who are not caring for their possessions in the time-honored Jewish tradition. You may ask, "Why?"

I would like to suggest two factors involved in this change. For some people, the expression, "Waste not; want not," has no meaning. They waste things all day long but B"H they are not needy. Their cavalier attitude towards their belongings has not led to any measure of deprivation. They have discretionary funds, so they just buy more of whatever they did not care for.

Suppose on a hot summer Shabbos morning that a 12-portion jar of gefilte fish was opened and five pieces were served for the lunch meal. Then the jar was left right where it was, out of the fridge, uncovered, and discovered sitting somewhere in the back of the kitchen counter when the counter was cleaned ten hours later. No problem. The jar is simply trashed and a mental note made: "Buy more fish for next week."

The other aspect of the situation is that many of today's young people have never held a job where they have been paid for every hour they worked. Therefore, they do not have any concept of the value of a shekel, dollar, pound or any other currency. As they say, "Easy come; easy go."

The gemora tells that Reish Lakish was very distressed at the end of his life that he was bequeathing a bushel of spices to his children. Obviously, he was not begrudging his beloved children this meager inheritance. Or had he wished to leave over much more? Rather, it was his lifelong policy to work only the exact number of hours needed to put food on the table and provide life's other basic necessities. The fact that he had some vegetables left over meant that he had taken away more time from his learning to devote to working than had actually been necessary. It was the irretrievable loss of this learning time that pained him.

Rabbi Avi Schulman wrote an excellent book with an interesting title. The cover says, Time is Money, which is an American expression. Then "Money" is crossed out and replaced with "Life," so the real title becomes, Time is Life.

If someone appreciates every minute of his/her life that goes into working for a living, then s/he values the salary and the things it buys. A jar of gefilte fish becomes an hour of life. That is something else entirely. Sadly, many young people don't appreciate hours of life, either. Rabbi Chaim Pinchas Scheinberg says that someone who has a few minutes between activities can use those few minutes to learn Torah but, more often, he can also talk to his friends, drink coffee or just stand around doing nothing. If you ask him what he is doing, he will tell you he is "killing time." Rav Scheinberg says he isn't killing time; he is killing himself.

Internalizing the concept that money is time and time is life can help a kollel couple to live carefully and frugally and thereby maximize their learning years. Making an effort to conserve electricity, gas and water as well as food can save a lot of money.

In addition, it is relatively easy to extend the life of clothing. Wearing a large apron while you are working in the kitchen or serving meals will cut down on the number of times your dresses are washed or need expensive dry cleaning. Smock style bibs do the same for children's clothing. Using an umbrella will do wonders for your hat or sheitel. Partially closing the shutters, drapes or blinds in the afternoon will prevent the sun from bleaching the fabric on your couch.

Don't throw out wearable old shoes when you buy new ones. Save the old ones for days when rain is likely. Plastic boots can be put over shoes on days when you know it is raining.

And the most important money-saving tip I can think of is this: Know what you own and where it is located so that you don't duplicate purchases. Think of how many times the average householder runs out and buys a new Phillip's screwdriver of a certain common size or a flashlight or a tube of super glue, simply because he can't find the one he already has.

The actions of the forefathers should be lessons for us, their children. This was the time when Yaakov Oveinu was going back to Eretz Yisroel. He was busy making crucial decisions that would affect his life and that of his family forever. If he could go back across the river to retrieve some little jars of oil that he knew he left there, each of us can certainly learn to keep track of and care for our belongings.

 

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