Category — Purim

L’chaim!

This is some holiday! Boy, if only Haman knew what kind of holiday he gave us… Anyway, as this wonderful holiday approaches, I would like to share with you a beautiful story to help you ‘warm up’ for this one of kind Yom Tov.

Our story takes us back two years. Location: Milan Italy. Date: Two days after Purim.

Everything was running late, like usual. Purim came and went, and then… oops! We had forgotten to deliver the Mishloach Monos (Purim gifts) to the children who had participated during the past summer in the Chabad day camp.

So we sat down with a map and marked out where we’ll have to visit that evening. All in all, there were about forty houses within four square blocks. The Rabbi, a sworn optimist, gave us his word, that we would need no more than an hour and a half to do the whole job. Not bad.

“Oh, by the way – said the Rabbi – there is one family, the Cohen family, that lives about fifteen minutes out of this area, there’s only a small chance you’ll make it there, but I’ll mark it down anyway, just in case…”

Two of us (a friend by the name of Yisrael and yours truly) gladly volunteered to do the rounds. We set out at eight at night, planning to return to home base ’round nine thirty.

Little did we know what was in store for us… From the second we began the route everything seemed to go wrong. As we trudged from one house (nobody home), to another (she’s sleeping already), to another (non existing address), our spirits plummeted. Murphy’s Law was working over time that evening.

It’s was already ten past nine. We haven’t met even one kid. Our hands we’re hurting from the heavy bags, and to top it all off, we realized that we have gotten lost. Oy vey, why did we jump into this mess?

We stopped our aimless walking, to study the map. Where are we? Hmmm… Ah! I found us! “Yisrael! We have good news and bad news. Bad news first: we’re way out of our 4 square block radius. Good news: we’re five minutes away from the one house that we were not planning on going to!”

We decided to make our way to the way-out house, to try our luck over there. Like our sages said: “when one changes his location, he changes his luck”.

So tired and discouraged we made our way to our destination. Don’t ask me how, but somehow we managed to get lost again, so by the time we reached the right building we were a real sorry/shabby sight.

We rang the bell. And yes! The kids were home! And awake! Oh, how relieved we were. We ran into the building, into the elevator, forgot what floor we were heading to, and got lost… To make a short story long; after walking up and down the stairs we found ‘ours’.

[By now I had lost the strength of cordiality;] I turned the mom and told her how we were knocked out, and would appreciate a cold drink.

She welcomed us warmly into her simple apartment, and gave us drinks and hamantashen (”best in town”), and asked us to share some Torah thoughts. So we did.

Ten minutes later, and we have shared with her and the kids many thoughts/jokes, and she was swallowing it all up asking for more, and I had run out of things to day (could you believe it? That itself was the first miracle of the evening). So I related to her the painful saga of our evening, how “truth to be told we were not planning to come to your house tonight, but for some reason, nothing worked out and we got lost, so…”

Suddenly she burst out crying, or to describe it more accurately, her whole body was shaking as she sobbed. What did I say wrong? Did I offend her? What do I do now?

After a few long minutes of uncontrolled sobs, she told us through the tears her painful story: “just recently my life has taken a turn for the worse, my husband left me, and my children are having a very hard time adjusting to this new life style. To make matters even harder, I have no money to support my children.

“So this morning, I turned to G-d in despair, and asked him to send me a sign, a sign that he remembers me and cares for me.

“So when you shared with me how this was not a planned visit, how this was divine providence. I realized that G-d had answered my prayer, and sent me a sign in the form of two angels, to show me that he cares.

“Thank you G-d for sending me these angels!”

As she continued sobbing for quite a while, I reflected on the last few hours, and understood that it wasn’t Murphy’s Law that was in charge that evening; it was G-d’s Law.

She calmed down, we blessed her (my friend was a Kohen), and said goodbye. We walked out shaken, touched as never before.

Happy purim! Dear fellow angels! Let us all be an angel to a fellow Jew this Purim, and share with him/her the light and happiness of this great day.

Morris, the Governor’s most trusted assistant, died in his sleep one night. The Governor had depended on Morris for advice on every subject, from pending bills to wardrobe decisions. In addition, Morris had been his closest friend.

So, it was understandable that the Governor didn’t take kindly to the droves of ambitious office seekers who wanted Morris’ job. “They don’t even have the decency to wait until the man is buried,” the Governor muttered.

At the funeral, one eager beaver made his way to the Governor’s side. “Governor,” the man said, “is there a chance that I could take Morris’ place?”

“Certainly,” the governor replied. “But you’d better hurry. I think the undertaker is almost finished.”

***

He was Mr. Popular in town, a joke always on his lips and a most winning smile on his face, until that one fateful day when he whispered to his buddies that he intended to run for the presidency. He believed that he could make a positive difference.

He lost the title Mister Popular forever; now he was on “their” side. If he won, he would never again be able to please everyone. If he reduced taxes, there wouldn’t be social services, a move which would cause the rich and middle class to be happy, and the poor to be outraged. If he spent money on education, the nature freaks would cry, “We need money for the parks!”

The president’s seat might look spectacular and awesome, for the (so far) dozens of hopefuls promising to grab the seat in 2008. However, observing the confrontations facing the President, the tough decisions he must make and the downhill rollercoaster polls, you kind of wonder if you truly are envious of his seat.

Leadership and politics, with all their glamour and fanfare, have a great downside: they attract enemies. As long as this individual held a private life and kept a low profile, he was loved by all – after all, why not? The moment he undertook greater responsibly for his surroundings and decided to make a difference, the animosity checked in.

Of course, it must be noted that we aren’t talking about those who chase after political positions for egoistic pursuits and would “sell their grandmother” to make it onto primetime television. We’re talking about the honest and motivated individuals who truly feel the responsibility to make a change in the world.

Do they give up because of the challenges?

Mordechai, of Purim fame, was the greatest sage of his time. His devotion and dedication were felt and by all and he was loved for it. The story of Purim only boosted his prestige: he had almost single-handedly saved the entire Jewish nation from annihilation!

But then king Achashveirosh decided to appoint him Prime Minister of the Persian Empire. Now, he entered the political arena.

The Meggilah concludes by telling us that when Mordechai entered politics, he was suddenly not popular with everyone. Although most admired him, some of his friends admonished him for his stance; some scorned his values. He was no longer Mister Lovable.

Yet, as a leader, Mordechai knew that one does not shy away from leadership and responsibility because of depressing polls or statistics. Helping people takes precedence over popularity. And yes, standing up for what is right may have its price.

But if you know that what you’re doing is right, then you don’t care about the polls. The mission must go through, even at a personal cost.

Tell that to America!

A father-in-law offers his newly-married son-in-law equal partnership in his multi million dollar business. “You’ll do the work in the factory,” he says. “I’ll do the office work.”

The son-in-law isn’t too keen on the idea. “I hate the factory. It’s too noisy and hectic.”

What wouldn’t a new Father-in-law do to please his son-in-law? And so he offers him the office work.

“But the office is boring and claustrophobic…!” the young man protests.

By now, the father-in-law is at loss: “What are we gonna do with you? You were just offered equal partnership in a flourishing, multimillion-dollar company and you turned it down?!”

The younger guy is undaunted. “I got an idea,” he says. “Why don’t you buy me out?”

*

If you didn’t know any better and were reading the story of Purim for the first time, you might have guessed that you were reading a Shakespearian play. The plot, the climax, the drama… it’s just perfect!

First of all, the story begins with a miracle – a Persian made a feast and actually invited guests: There once was a Persian king who threw a party for 180 days for all his ministers and officials, and every delicacy the mind could fathom was available with the flick of the finger.

After that comes a seven-day marathon of alcohol and beverages tailored especially for the citizens of the capitol city Shushan. Just imagine the fantastic grandeur!

On the seventh day (or rather, the 187th…) the drunken king orders his wife to appear and show off her legendary beauty. For some reason, the queen suddenly becomes self-conscious and declines, throwing in a few nasty comments to boot.

The king, fuming, follows the advice of his ministers and kills his wife. When he sobers up and regrets the rash decision, he accepts his advisor’s suggestion for a beauty contest. After a long search, the king finally picks a girl named Ester to be his wife.

Now the action begins: Ester and her adoptive father Mordechai unravel a plot to take the kings life, and they warn the king just in time. The king records the episode in The Royal Chronicles. End Part One.

Part Two: The notorious Haman rises to power. A decree is issued ordering one and all to kneel before the power-hungry minister.

Mordechai is made of stubborn material and refuses to bow. Seeking revenge, Haman devises a plan. The plot is none other than his Final Solution to the “Jewish problem.” A lot determines the 13th of Adar as the date.

Things get hot. The king willingly signs the decree, and his queen’s nation is to be destroyed by her own husband!

The Jews join in fasting, repentance and prayer for three days. The queen fasts as well.

On the third day, Ester invites the king and Haman to a feast. About to disclose the reason of the party, the queen reconsiders and requests that her two guests join her the following day again.

After the party, Haman plans his special revenge of his archenemy Mordechai, and prepared a huge gallows, planning to obtain permission the next morning for the hanging.

The suspense has reached its peak. When do all the pieces of the puzzle start forming into a collage?

The tables begin turning. The king has a restless night and asks his chamberlain to read from the Book of Chronicles. By “coincidence,” he reads of how Mordechai saved the kings life…

Events in Shushan now seem like a rollercoaster. Haman takes Mordechai on a pony ride around town… the queen begs for her life…And before you know it, Haman is hanging on the very gallows he prepared for…

And the drama finishes with the good guys taking revenge on the bad Haman guys, and Mordechai taking over Haman’s position as prime minister.

So where does G-d fit into this classic drama? Or does He? After all, in the ancient text, the name of G-d is not mentioned even once, so perhaps this is just some old Jewish folklore, an interesting story without depth?

But no; we need to look beneath the surface. Who wrote that play?

What was a Jewish girl doing in the palace? Why did Mordechai uncover an assassination plot? Why couldn’t the king sleep? What were all these details if not the Hand of G-d, pieces of His Infinite Puzzle?

The message of Purim is one so subtly powerful that it can be lost under the masks and in the gift baskets. But we need to look for it. For, as in the Purim tale, small events and stories, even mishaps, frustrations and eccentric characters, are really parts of a masterfully-planned story, leading the Jews to repentance and redemption.

We experience many events throughout our lives, and may see them as random: “It just happened”; “Just a coincidence!”

We have the choice. We can see our lives as games of chance, or we can peek through the veneer and discern the Divine Hand pulling all the right strings. We can appreciate that it’s all a beautiful story, and it has a Playwright

Purim reminds you that G-d’s love is always there. Every second, every move is tailored with love by the One who loves you more than anyone else does.

Just open the curtain, and let the real play begin.