LEARNING TO BE COURAGEOUS
“I’m so glad you came!” shouted a redheaded boy. “Yeah, we were waiting for you,” said another boy. Then the one on the side, the tallest of them all, called out, “Let’s go! One, two, three …”
That was the sight that I saw as I walked on the edge of the park. What was I doing all alone in the park in this unfamiliar place?
My father joined the staff of shluchim at the Chabad house nearby and is responsible for this neighborhood. Many families who are not yet religious live here. Right away, on our first Shabbos living here, I went out on mivtzaim as befits a real shliach. I passed by the Chabad house where I got the nosh and then went to run a Mesibas Shabbos in the neighborhood park. On the previous two Shabbasos, everything went well. The children enjoyed it and so did I. But this time, something happened …
I hadn’t realized what the kids around me were planning and before I knew it, the bags of nosh were grabbed out of my hands. Each of the boys surrounding me had grabbed one bag and before I could chase after them they had run in three different directions. It was both sad and funny at the same time. Funny because one child remained standing there helplessly at the sound of laughter from the three mischievous children, and sad because the child was me.
I stood there in the park with fifteen children around me, waiting to recite the 12 p’sukim and get their nosh, but I was at a loss as to what to do. The children who had taken the bags were almost my age. I looked at them and although I did not see malice in their laughing eyes, I found it hard to find a way to get them to give up their game and give me back the bags.
Although I realized that they hadn’t thought much before they did what they did, I felt really helpless. I was embarrassed in front of the other children and maybe even a little fearful of what else they could do. I just walked away. I left the nosh with them and sought refuge in my room in my new house. I went as fast as I could before they would notice the tears that threatened to flow.
My grandparents were our guests that Shabbos. They wanted to see our new home in the neighborhood that from now on would be our place of shlichus. My grandfather is a Chassidishe man, a talmid chacham. His white beard gives him an especially noble appearance. In addition to all his fine qualities, he also has a way of knowing when something out of the usual happens. I used to think that all grandfathers get this ability as soon as their first grandchild is born, but I finally came to the conclusion that my grandfather is special.
The “good Shabbos” that I blurted out before I entered the room made him a little suspicious. Before very long he knocked at the door to my room. “Berele,” I heard his soft voice on the other side of the door. “Can I come in?” I got out of bed against my will and opened the door for my grandfather as I forced a smile.
After my grandfather made himself comfortable on the chair in the corner of the room, I told him what happened at the park. He nodded understandingly and said, “So you felt like a sheep among seventy wolves? That reminds me of a story that happened to me about twenty years ago.”
“If you display weakness and lack of confidence in your ability to succeed, it can cause others to try and bother you, but if you are confident and believe in yourself and act l’chat’chilla aribber, then you will see those who seemed troublesome becoming your helpers.”
I love my grandfather’s stories and I was curious to hear this one. He closed his eyes for a moment, as though trying to recall the details of the story, and then he said:
“We were living in Russia then. It was in the period after the communist government collapsed. It still wasn’t easy to openly keep mitzvos. On Shavuos, we went on Tahalucha to nearby shuls as we sang, when suddenly we noticed a gathering of gentiles from afar. They were standing in the middle of the pavement.”
“Did they do anything to you?” I asked curiously and nervously at the same time.
“Listen patiently and you’ll hear,” said my grandfather reassuringly and continued. “A few of the people among us were afraid and wanted to stop singing so we wouldn’t stand out so much. But I decided not to display any signs of fear. We continued singing loudly and when we reached where they were, they moved aside and respectfully let us pass. Some of them even clapped.
“Do you understand? It all depends on you. If you display weakness and lack of confidence in your ability to succeed, it can cause others to try and bother you, but if you are confident and believe in yourself and act l’chat’chilla aribber, then you will see those who seemed troublesome becoming your helpers.”
My grandfather paused and looked at me as though to check to see whether I had followed what he said. Then he continued, “What happened to you is similar to the situation we are all in now. Sometimes, a person can think that the limitations of the world interfere with his activities to bring the Geula. And if the world doesn’t understand, then maybe we have to reckon with the opinion of the world.
“But the Rebbe says it’s just the opposite. When a person goes l’chat’chilla aribber, without being impressed by the world, he will see that the world not only does not interfere but it actually helps him in his work. So go tell the children in the park about the coming of Moshiach very soon. See to it that they all get excited and say the p’sukim to be ready to welcome him. That is how your problem will solve itself.”
My grandfather finished and I decided to go back to the park. I got there and gathered the children. They were all curious to see how I would get back the nosh but I ignored that and began the Mesibas Shabbos. I confidently explained to all of them that we need to prepare to welcome Moshiach and that we would start by reciting the twelve p’sukim.
I suddenly noticed that the three boys who had grabbed the bags were coming closer and joining us. After I finished telling them what the Geula is, they got up and returned the bags, apologized, and even offered their help in giving it out.
“We are sorry. We did not think before we did it. We also want to be ready for the Geula,” they said in all seriousness.
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