Shemiras Einayim and Hashgachah Pratis in Publishing a Sefer
On the sidewalk while walking, and I call them “shemiras einayim coins,” because I found them while keeping my eyes downcast in the streets. These are small messages that remind me of the hidden treasure safeguarded on High for those who close their eyes from seeing evil.
Since this is one of the things that need chizuk, I was collecting various sayings and quotes from divrei Torah and mefarshim that speak about shemiras einayim, and I arranged them nicely. From time to time I would add more content, until I had enough for a book. I moved on to editing the material, but I had no idea how I’d pay to print it. I took the material to a gadol and asked him for a brachah. The rav bentched me and instructed me to do everything that had to be done for the sefer before printing – everything, that is, until money would be necessary.
That’s what I did. I gave the sefer in to be typeset, and I waited for a yeshuah. It was Friday, the ninth of Shevat. That year the yahrtzeit of Rav Shalom Sharabi fell out on Shabbos, so people went up to his kever on Har Hazeisim on Friday. When I concluded Shacharis, a Yid came over to me and said, “Do you know whose yahrtzeit it is today?”
“Rav Shalom Sharabi,” I said.
“Do you want to come with me to Har Hazeisim, to his kever? I have a car; I’ll take you.”
“I don’t have plans to go today, Friday,” I told him. “I have to help out at home and also to rest up before Shabbos.”
While I was speaking to him, my wife called and said the children needed to leave the house, and could I please come and wait with them for their van. She needed my help. I apologized to the Yid with the car and told him, “I must go home.”
“No problem,” he answered. “I’ll come pick you up after you finish what you have to do at home.”
I have no explanation for this Yid’s behavior. I had nothing to do with him. I know him from the neighborhood, and I meet him from time to time and nod my head to him. Nothing more. Why did he suddenly need me? “You can ask so-and-so to come with you,” I told him, mentioning another person who might go instead of me.
“He already went last night,” the Yid answered me. “This time you’ll come with me.” And this, it became clear, was a firm decision on his part.
A short while after I got home, the “Reb Shalom Sharabi Yid” arrived at my house and called me to come with him. Because he was insisting, I joined him. At the kever on Har Hazeisim, in addition to my own personal requests, I added a special request that I be zocheh to publish my sefer on shemiras einayim.
A half hour later we left. When I got home I was feeling extremely tired. I had to rest. Baruch Hashem, Shabbos preparations were underway nicely at home. I went to bed and tried to fall asleep, but I couldn’t. I turned from right to left, tried reading something, but nothing helped. I was very tired and could not sleep.
I got up and decided to go to the beis medrash. What would I do there? I was not focused enough to learn. I decided to take the typeset pages of the sefer I wanted to publish and to organize them, so they would be completely ready for printing. I sat down in my place and started to work, marking which pages were to come first, editing, correcting, arranging, and sorting.
I had been working for fifteen minutes when I felt a tap on my shoulder. “Hello, how are you? What are you doing here?” Someone was showing a lot of interest in me. It was my acquaintance from Rav Shalom Sharabi’s kever. Yesterday I barely knew him, and today we were the best of friends...
I understood that he did not have much to do with his time, and being that I actually did have what to do, I tried to make it obvious to him that I wasn’t interested in schmoozing. He seemed to get the thinly veiled hint and started to back off. At that moment, I caught myself and thought, You’re writing about guarding your eyes, and what about guarding your mouth? And what about loving your fellow? That is also part of Torah.
I immediately changed my tone and called him over. “What did you say?” I asked. And he responded animatedly. I saw how truly happy he was that I was talking to him. He asked about the content of the sefer, its title, and the style of writing. Why was another sefer on this well-known topic necessary? And on and on. I answered every one of his questions, until he finally left. A moment or two later another Yid sitting nearby came over and said, “I saw how you acted so graciously to this Yid who spoke to you, and I saw how in the morning he drove you crazy too, and you continued speaking respectfully to him. I heard what you spoke about, and this sefer interests me a lot. Tell me, how much do you need in order to print it?”
At that point we spoke numbers. On Sunday that Yid brought me the entire sum in cash, and the sefer was printed!
When I retell the events, it seems there was hashgachah pratis that I be zocheh to daven at the kever of Rav Shalom Sharabi, and that I be zocheh to do the mitzvah of loving one’s fellow Jew, and thus to have special siyata diShmaya to publish the sefer.
