וְהָֽלַכְתָּ בִּדְרָכָֽיו – You shall follow in His ways. Even what he receives in return is for the sake of deepening connection — giving through receiving.
I once heard from my father and teacher zt”l that a simple Jew from Tzefas came to my grandfather, the holy kabbalist Rav Gamliel Rabinovitch zt”l, Rosh Yeshivas Kishenov, with a somewhat peculiar request: that he bless him to win the national lottery. My grandfather asked him, “And what will it give you? Why do you need this?” and declined to bless him.
The man then approached my uncle Rav Aharon zt”l, son of Rav Gamliel, and confided that he needed to marry off his daughter and required a large sum of money. Perhaps he could intercede with his father to grant him the blessing.
Rav Aharon went to his father and said, “This man needs to marry off his daughter. Why not bless him to win?” Rav Gamliel replied, “I did not know that — he never told me. If that is so, I will bless him; but ask him, please, that should he merit to win, he will donate the ma’aser of his winnings toward the repair of our beis k’nesses — the kloiz of the Chortkov Chassidim in Tzefas.”
(As is known, after Rav Gamliel’s arrival from Kishenov to Tzefas, he lived beneath the Chortkov beis midrash and was responsible for its upkeep and needs.)
When the man agreed, Rav Gamliel blessed him with all his heart — and indeed, “the tzaddik decrees and the Holy One fulfills” (Mo’ed Katan 16b). The blessing was fulfilled in full: the man won an enormous prize, which through wise investment multiplied greatly, and he became exceedingly wealthy. As promised, he rebuilt the magnificent “Beis Medrash Chortkov” in Tzefas and supported Torah institutions generously.
Thus we learn: when one is willing to give and bestow — he thereby merits to receive everything he truly needs, in perfection.
In a letter my uncle Rav Aharon later sent to my father zt”l, he recounted this story and added that from that ma’aser gelt they renewed the beis k’nesses entirely — painting, refurbishing, and beautifying it with new furnishings for blessing and success.
Once, a learned scholar asked me: how can one merit to study Torah lishmah — for its own sake? For we are all far from such a level of pure intention, free of any personal motive.
I told him: to reach the full perfection of lishmah is exceedingly difficult, for that labor has no end or boundary. As the sages taught (Pesachim 50b): “A person should always engage in Torah and mitzvos even not for their own sake, for from not for their own sake one comes to for their own sake.” The term “always” indicates that lishmah has no true endpoint. Even when one attains lishmah, it can again become self-serving if mixed with personal satisfaction. Thus one must always strive higher — “always” learning shelo lishmah until his motives are refined ever further.
Nevertheless, there are methods to ascend in lishmah. For example, one might write upon a small note in clear words: “One hour of my daily learning I hereby give as a complete gift to Heaven, without desire for any reward, neither in this world nor in the next — solely to give nachas ruach to my Creator.”
Therefore, I advised that scholar to dedicate even a small portion of his Torah to Heaven and to inscribe this with firm intent — for he thereby transfers that learning as a true gift to the Living God.
But he resisted, saying it was difficult to feel it sincerely. I urged him: “At least surrender half an hour!” — he refused. “A quarter hour?” — he still would not agree.
Seeing this, I told him: “When you reach the World to Come, you will be surprised to find that your reward is not as great as you expect — for you have shown how close you remain to yourself, how little of your Torah ascends upward, since you hold it tightly for yourself and never release it to Heaven. You indeed profess belief in reward and punishment, yet from your actions it seems you have not invested truly in spiritual growth, either in this world or the next. You are like one who deposits his money hoping it will increase — but places it in the wrong channels, losing it all. So too here: your Torah is all for yourself, far from the intent of Heaven, chas veshalom.”
My grandfather — my mother’s father — the righteous Rav Yechiel Meir Zilber zt”l, was by trade a carpenter. He would always say: “When Moshiach comes speedily in our days, they will surely need carpenters for the building of the Third Beis Hamikdash and its furnishings — and I hereby donate one full year of my craft to serve there freely.”
This noble trait of giving — the desire to help and assist Bnei Yisrael — was always a guiding light for the gedolei Yisrael, the true tzaddikim.
A trustworthy man once told me about his father, who as a very young boy became an orphan from his father, leaving his mother a lonely widow.
At that time, the renowned gaon, Rabbi Eliezer Silver zt”l, one of the great rabbanim of America, known for his boundless love and tireless devotion to every Jew, visited Jerusalem. When the young boy saw the radiance on the Rav’s face, which shone with kindness, he gathered courage and approached him with a request: since his mother had been a widow for several years, it would bring her great joy if the Rav would visit her home on Shabbos Kodesh.
Indeed, the gaon graciously agreed. After delivering his great derashah on Shabbos afternoon, he went to her home to bless and bring her joy. The widow’s heart was filled with immense happiness and light from that visit.
In Slonim it was said in the name of the early chassidim: “When a person ascends to the Heavenly Court to seek reward for his Torah and good deeds, he will be told: ‘Go and seek your recompense from the one for whom you worked.’ One must therefore examine — for whose sake were these deeds done?”
One of the close disciples of the holy gaon, Rabbi Aharon Kotler zt”l, rosh yeshivah of the illustrious Lakewood Yeshivah and one of the foremost builders of Torah in America, used to study with him every morning. As was his custom, the disciple prepared a cup of coffee for his revered teacher. Yet on that particular day, the rosh yeshivah did not drink from it. After some time passed, the disciple assumed the coffee had cooled and prepared another cup — but again, the gaon did not drink.
Pained, the disciple asked, “Rebbe, what have I done wrong, that you will not partake of the coffee I prepared?”
The saintly rosh yeshivah replied gently, “You have done nothing wrong at all. But since your heart is troubled, I must tell you the reason — today I am fasting.”
“Fasting?” asked the disciple in astonishment. “But today is not a public fast day!”
The gaon explained: “I was asked to inquire about a certain young man who was being considered for a shidduch. After making some inquiries, I did not hear favorable reports about him. If they come to me again and ask what I found, I will have to speak the truth — yet within myself, I still feel uncertain, for perhaps the young man will improve and change for the better. Therefore, I have accepted a fast upon myself today, praying that they will not return to me with further questions about him.”
And indeed, the prayer of that righteous man was accepted. They did not return to him about the matter, the shidduch went ahead, and in time it became clear that the gaon’s intuition was correct: the young man’s heart truly changed for the good, he became a fine talmid chacham, and established a home worthy of honor and blessing.
