After Dovid’s grandfather’s passing, he sought to do many mitzvos l’illuy nishmaso. He and his grandfather had a very close connection. When his grandfather was still alive, he’d cared for Dovid in an exceptional way. When he saw Dovid’s tallis stained, he’d given him $42 to bring it to the local Judaica store to have it cleaned. Also, from time to time, he’d brought toys for Dovid’s children — something that no one else did. He was just a special grandfather. Dovid therefore wanted to do something special for his Zaidy in the return.
Throughout the year following his petirah, whenever mitzvah opportunities arose, Dovid went the extra mile with the mitzvah to serve as an illuy neshamah for his grandfather.
One exceptional hanhagah that stood out about his grandfather was his avoidance of lashon hara. Whatever the price, he’d avoided it with a 10-foot pole. As a result, Dovid started to learn those halachos every day to serve as illuy neshamah.
As the months went by, Dovid wondered how his Zaidy appreciated the zechusim he was sending up. He only wished to see one more smile from his Zaidy telling him: “You’re doing a good job. I’m enjoying it. Keep it up!” Though he would not give up his commitment, even if he didn’t see his request answered, seeing his Zaidy’s reciprocation would only give him more momentum to push forward. And with greater motivation.
Within the week, Dovid was standing at the register of the local Judaica store, contemplating a tallis cleaning. After looking at the condition of his tallis, they told him that their cleaning would only remove the blackness and the dirt, but not the yellowness. That was set in. No soap in the world would remove it.
As he considered cleaning it or replacing it, going back and forth with the cashier, he suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. It was Rabbi Kaplan — someone he vaguely knew. With his charismatic personality and his open-heartedness, he asked Dovid what was going on. Dovid related his sofek, but Rabbi Kaplan pulled him to the back of the store to have him fitted (and answer his safek for him). After Dovid decided which tallis he would purchase, Rabbi Kaplan pulled out a crisp $100 bill and shoved it between Dovid’s fingers.
Dovid thanked Rabbi Kaplan, wished him well, and made his way to the register to pay. In line for the register, his children nagged him for some toys. They spotted two cute-looking mentchies and were hooked. $15 for two little mentchies were a bit steep for Dovid — and out of his budget. He reminded his children of their long-standing rule — “we buy what we need, not what we want” — but that didn’t calm them in the least.
From the other side of the store, Rabbi Kaplan heard the tantrum and came trotting right over. “Put that purchase on my account,” he told the cashier, and Dovid again thanked him profusely. When Dovid’s purchases rang up at the register, the price for the tallis came to $142 — exactly a $100 more than cleaning itself. So, not only did Dovid have a crisp, clean, new tallis, his kids also got their eagerly desired toys.
Dovid was startled.
The two things that his grandfather personified were the two things that came to him miraculously — right after he was eager for a sign that his mitzvos were causing his Zaidy an illuy neshamah.
Could he look away from the sign Hashem was flashing before him?
