To be informed, to be one of the "people of tomorrow". There is another meaning to this pair of words. We will write a personal monologue. In fact, it characterizes many people:
A good friend of mine moved to a distant city. About a month ago, a friendly letter came from him. In the letter, he mentioned the great friendship between us and invited us to his son's Bar Mitzvah celebration. We were thinking of going. They were soul mates, and we had known the boy since he was a baby. But just that evening we had a family wedding. I wanted to send him a letter, to tell him how much we wanted, but we couldn't. His letter is on my desk, but to this day I have not been able to answer it.
In fact, it's not a big deal. I just take a pen in my hand and write. A few minutes, and the letter is finished. I'm usually pretty diligent, and even now I've decided that as soon as I get back from work, the first thing I'll do is write the letter. When I got home from work, I was eating, and a phone call came from a buyer. I had to sit on the invoice and I went through the evening. The letter didn't get out of my head. I decided: Tomorrow, tomorrow, Friday, we finish work early, and I sit down to write the letter. But you know how things go on Friday. They come home and have to run shopping, prepare the candles and make sure that the children bathe, and Shabbat has already begun.
I had a feeling of disappointment, but I decided that on Saturday night, immediately after Havdala, I would take a pen in my hand and answer it. On Saturday night, my wife reminded me that this was the last chance to comfort the Cohen family. Tomorrow they will get up from the shiva. I went to console myself and came back in a gloomy mood. I felt that this was not the right time to write a friendly letter. Besides, the mailboxes are not emptied at night anyway. Nothing will happen if I postpone it until tomorrow, and I write the letter out of joy and reconciliation.
The letter has already been waiting for a month, which will wait another day. The next day I sat down to write. For me, a decision is a decision. I started looking for my friend's letter in the pile of letters on the table, and my eyes became black. There are so many letters that need to be answered! It's really not a matter of 15 minutes. Tomorrow I'll set aside two hours, and sit down to answer everyone.
It's not just the letter on the shelf. Under the mirror, at the entrance to the apartment, is a note from the postal parcel department. Why there? So that it will be in front of the eyes. The note is intended for a neighbor who lives in the building across the street and came here by mistake. Of course, there is no point in going down specifically to put it in the mailbox opposite. And came here by mistake. After all, I leave the house several times a day. Tomorrow, when I go to work, I'll take the note with me.
The next day I stayed at home and left at the last minute. I was in such a hurry that I forgot the note. But there's nothing, I'll take it tomorrow. The next day I forgot and remembered the stairs. Back? Not! After all, I'll go to work tomorrow too. The next day, my wife asked me to take the empty carton of vegetables down to the garbage. This disrupted my plans regarding the note... The note is placed on the shelf, near the entrance, in a prominent place, and this is how I remember it every day, when I come home from work...
Almost every one of us will be able to find different details on the shelf under the mirror or in similar places, waiting patiently until we do what needs to be done with them...
It is told of a rabbi who gathered those who heard his lesson. He opened Tractate Shabbat (p. 88) and began to read to them from it: "At the time of the giving of the Torah, it is stated: 'And they stood at the bottom of the mountain' (Shemot 19:17). Rabbi Avdimi said, "It teaches that the Holy One, blessed be He, forced the mountain upon them like a basin." And he said to them: If you accept the Torah, it is better, and if not, there will be your burial." The Gemara is well known. The Rav asked: "Why is it said, 'And if not, there will be your burial.' It would have been appropriate to write, 'This is where your burial will be.'" The listeners asked to know the answer, and the rabbi continued: "I will tell you a secret. There is a 'burial' called 'there'..." It is the burial place of all hopes, of all expectations, of all the bright future that lies ahead of man. I will make my intention clear. A child goes to school. The teacher explains, and the child dreams. Why does he not listen? Because he believes that nothing is burning. Now he will dream, and then he will go through the material, hear an explanation from a friend, 'there' he will get the class. You have to do your homework, but the child is playing, why? Because he has leisure. Fifteen minutes before the start of the lesson, he will copy from a friend's notebook. 'There' will be enough. Prepare for the test. He does not know between his right and his left. No problem, now he will fail, but in the next test he already knew. 'There' he will succeed. Was the certificate he received bad? Don't be afraid! There's another half. "There" he will learn.
