Here’s a story I heard from Rabbi Avrum Mordechai Malach that took place a few years ago in Eretz Yisroel. It’s about someone I don’t know but whom nonetheless I consider as one of my heroes. I will call him Avi.
The story begins on Yom Ha’atzma’ut, which is essentially a legal holiday for most people in Eretz Yisroel. Kiruv workers use that opportunity to schedule special learning programs for Jews of all backgrounds. Rabbi Chaim Zaid, a Sephardic kiruv rabbi, gave an introductory shiur tailored to a diverse audience that included an assortment of kippot – knitted, colored, black – along with several bare heads. Some of the kippot looked like they had been taken out of a drawer for the special occasion.
He began by reviewing the laws of Netilat Yadayim. He followed by discussing eating b’kedushah, with holiness, explaining that a Jew is supposed to approach eating and drinking in a refined manner: a Jew sits down, makes a bracha before and after eating, and cuts his food into bite-sized pieces. Eating in a refined manner, he assured his audience, is propitious for Divine help in being granted a good living.
When he finished speaking, Avi, a man with a tiny kippah, who had worked in a bakery for years and was now unemployed, approached Rabbi Zaid and exclaimed, “I am accepting always to eat in a refined manner.”
(I wondered if Rabbi Zaid thought to himself, should I tell him to first keep Shabbat, wear tefillin, and eat kosher, ) he nevertheless encouraged Avi much success with his commitment.
The following Yom Ha’atzma’ut, Rabbi Zaid spoke at the same venue. Afterwards, a very pious looking Jew approached and said, “Shalom aleichem, Mori veRabi (my teacher, my rebbe). Do you remember me? I was the non-religious Jew who told you he was only going to eat in refined manner.”
Now, Rabbi Zaid remembered the man.
“Do you want to hear my story?” Avi asked.
“Absolutely!” was the reply.
“Last year, I took very seriously what the Rav said about eating with kedusha. The Rav mentioned that a Jew eats and cuts his food with a knife into smaller pieces, and then eats. I said to myself, granted I am not Orthodox, but I am not an animal. I can still eat like a refined person. I accepted upon myself to only eat after cutting my food into small pieces, and made my whole family do the same.
“After a while we started making brachos on our food. We didn’t wear kippot, but we learned when to make a Shehakol, Mezonot and Ha’eitz.”
“One day, I went with my kids to a park. They ran around and played for a while and had a good time. After a while they became hungry but I had nothing to feed them. Then, we saw a delivery truck for one of the big bakeries in Israel. My kids said, ‘Aba, there is a bakery truck. Maybe you can buy us something?’
“I said, ‘They only sell wholesale.’
“They responded, ‘We are so hungry. Please ask anyway.’
“I went to the driver and asked if I could buy something for my children. He confirmed that they don’t sell retail. But then he said, ‘You asked so nicely ...’ He opened the back of the truck and there were these fresh chocolate Danishes, oozing with chocolate. I bought a few and we sat down to enjoy.
“As the kids were about to eat, I said, ‘One minute, remember, we eat civilized. Let me get a knife and eat like Jews.’
‘Of course,’ the kids said.
“As I was cutting, I noticed, mixed in with the chocolate were these small green spots. Since I had worked in a bakery, I knew you can have some sugar or chocolate that is not mixed well, but this was different. The color was strange. I pulled off a small piece and sniffed it carefully. It smelled like engine oil!
“All the Danishes I’d purchased were the same. It was clear, whether by accident or by intention, a worker had put add engine oil to the mix. I ran to the driver and shouted to stop him from pulling away, yelling, ‘Everyone is in danger!’
“He thought I was crazy. I told him I had worked in a bakery a long time. ‘I know! This is poison!’”
“He checked the rest of the Danishes. They were all adulterated. He called the boss. The boss halted all of the trucks in the fleet.”
As he recounted his story, Avi reflected on what had happened. “If I hadn’t cut them up, because of all of the chocolate and sugar, we wouldn’t have noticed until it was too late.”
Due to a seemingly small commitment regarding kedushat ha’achila, Avi and his family changed their lives forever. (The icing on the cake: the boss offered Avi to be his general manager. The segula for eating b’kedushah was realized!)
This story illustrates what can happen when we are careful with something seemingly small – we allow special Divine influences to affect our lives and usher in significant growth.
Reprinted from the Hag Sukkot 5784 email of Jack E. Rahmey based on the Torah teachings of Rabbi Amram Sananes.
