By Rabbi Meyer Bodner
Spending his days as part of a Kollel in Miami was a fellow named Shimon. Learning was a true labor of love, and Shimon couldn’t get enough of it. In addition, however, to his regular schedule, he’d learn with a man from the community—Michael—every night. Michael had been blessed with financial success, having ventured into real estate, though a sure highlight of his day above all else was learning with Shimon.
Now, Michael had a secret. Whenever he bumped into Shimon in a restaurant—Miami was a small place back then, especially in those days—he would always pay Shimon’s bill without fail. “Shimon, my kollel yungerman,” he’d say, “is not going to pay for his restaurant bill." And he would cover Shimon’s tab every single time.
One week, it was the bar mitzvah for Michael’s son. And so, as planned, he hired one of the finest caterers in Miami at the time, expecting a large showing for his son’s milestone. Michael and the caterer were good friends too. But then, things went south. An argument arose as to how many people actually attended the event versus how many plates were ordered, with the result being that the caterer charged him extra. Or so Michael claimed. Michael felt it was unfair. “Look,” Michael said, “the food was already made, so if extra people came, why charge more?” Their discussion turned into a full-on verbal dispute, and at the end of it all, Michael wound up paying the extra $1,500.
Now, $1,500 wasn’t a lot of money for either of them. But after paying, Michael told the caterer, “I’m paying you, but I’m never talking to you again in my life. I don’t want to have anything to do with you.”
Fast forward weeks later to one Motzei Shabbos.
Hoping to Meet Michael
Shimon and his wife went out for a quick bite. And though they hoped to run into Michael, they held onto no expectations, and instead simply headed out, intent on having a nice time. Suddenly, Michael walked in. “Great,” thought Shimon, “Michael’s here!” Shimon gave a brief wave, accompanied by a quick, “How are you?” to which Michael returned in kind. But then Michael left.
That’s where it got interesting.
After Michael left, the waitress came over with the bill. There must be a mistake, Shimon immediately thought. After all, wasn’t Michael supposed to pay as usual? He looked over the bill, confused, and wondered what had changed this time around. Maybe Michael was upset, or maybe he just didn’t want to cover the charge all the time. So Shimon paid the bill and left.
The next day, after their time learning, Michael casually asked Shimon. “So how was the meal last night?”
Caught off guard and uncomfortable, Shimon shrugged, trying to play it easy. “The meal was pretty good. It was nice.”
But Michael seemed a bit perplexed, almost fishing for a thank you. “You mean, if it wasn’t so good, I shouldn’t have paid for it?”
Who Paid for the Food?
Shimon, now even more confused, stood still. “What do you mean? I paid for it.”
Michael was taken aback. “What do you mean? I pointed to your table to pay for it!”
Shimon verbally walked back, recounting the sequence of events. “The waitress came over, and I paid the bill. I even have the credit card receipt.”
Michael, though, remained puzzled. “I believe you, but it’s strange. I thought I pointed to your table. They must have given me the wrong bill. That’s why I was there; you saw me, right? I wasn’t there to eat; I was there to pay the bill. I saw $110, and I thought, ‘How much does pizza cost already?’ A pie, a salad... I didn’t even look closely. I thought maybe you ordered a lot of different dishes—desserts, wines—I don’t know. But I was happy to pay it, even though it seemed a bit much.”
And that was that.
Two weeks before Purim, Michael received a huge delivery. It was a beautiful Mishloach Manos, filled with wines, fruits, the works, and inside was a note. Michael opened the envelope and saw it was from none other than his archenemy—the caterer. And inside was a check for $1,500, along with a heartfelt note.
“You have no idea how much it meant to me that you paid for our meal. Thank you very much. I’m so sorry for what happened last year. Please accept my apologies.”
Making amends and mending back together a friendship is worth every bit. It will always require overcoming fears, doubts, hesitancies, grudges or a host of other thoughts and feelings in between. But there’s also another ingredient that helps a great deal.
Hashem. Hashem wants us to make peace. And sometimes, because it’s just that important, He will set the stage and pull the strings to help make that to happen. Just be sure to be ready and willing to seize the opportunity when it arrives. Because, in time, it will. And when it does, the opportunity for healing, for harmony, for love is boundless treasure.
Reprinted from the Parshas Ve’etchanan 5784 email of the Torahanytime Newsletter.
