The clerk laughed at him. "This isn't a store. People aren't buying packages here. They paid the store to send the merchandise. They are paying for the delivery, not for the items."
The nimshal is that people think their hishtadlus brings them their parnassah. Parnassah comes from tefillah, when one pours his heart out before Hashem. The hishtadlus can be compared to the few coins we pay for the delivery.
The following mashal is repeated in the name of the Dubno Magid zt'l:
There was once a kind king who permitted his citizens to come to him to request their needs from him. Anyone could come to the palace to speak to the king.
A problem arose when one person kept returning to the palace, disturbing the king. So, the king instructed his guards not to let this man in anymore. The guards were stationed at the palace's main entrance, but this man found an unguarded side entrance; he just entered through that door.
The king set up guards at the second entrance, but the palace had many entryways, and despite the many guards, this man always found a way to get inside.
A wise man told the king, “Instead of posting so many guards at the palace, appoint one guard to stand in front of that person's house, to prevent him from leaving his house. He won't come to the palace if he can’t leave his house."
The nimshal is that a person wants to come to the King of the world with tefillah; he wants to come every day. The yetzer hara tries to prevent this, so he sets up guards that prevent the person from davening. The guards take on various forms. In one beis medresh, the yetzer hara arranges that people should speak during the tefillah, and he can’t daven there with kavanah. In another beis medresh, the yetzer hara has them daven very quickly, and he doesn't succeed in davening there with kavanah, either. When he goes to a kever of a tzaddik, hoping that perhaps he can daven with kavanah there, the yetzer hara will make sure that he meets his enemy there — someone who disturbs him or laughs at him — so he won't be able to daven there either. In short, wherever one wants to daven, the yetzer hara placed a guard there, to prevent him.
But then the yetzer hara is clever. He says, "Why should I set up so many guards? I will appoint one guard and have the guard stand in the man's heart. I’ll prevent him from opening his heart to Hashem, and then he won't be able to daven.
Everyone has this guard standing in his heart, but there is hope. When one davens with hislahavus and fervor, even if it is just external fervor, it pushes away the guard and enables his heart to open up in prayer before Hashem.
On this note, we share the following story from the Or HaChaim Hakadosh, which Reb Elyah Roth zt'l told:
The Or HaChaim was once a guest in the home of simple people who excelled in the mitzvah hachnasas orchim. The Or HaChaim felt an aura of kedushah in their home and was curious to know the source of that kedushah. As he was contemplating on that, the family was reminiscing over one of the guests that used to visit their home, and the Or HaChaim overheard the following:
Occasionally, an old, wealthy man would come to their home. The family honored him immensely — as they honored all their guests — and the old person would give them expensive gifts.
The way of this family was to serve Hashem with fervor, loud tefillos, and excitement, and the old man didn't appreciate it. He didn't think it was necessary. On one of his visits, the old man said, "Why do you say birchas hamazon so loud? Hashem hears quiet brachos too. Your zealous ways make your guests uncomfortable. They feel that they aren't as frum as you are. In my opinion, it is wrong to say birchas hamazon loudly..."
The family accepted his mussar, and they benched in silence. The old man was pleased that they listened to him, and he gave each of them another gift.
Sometime later, the old man returned, and as always, he gave gifts to each family member. On Friday night, the family began to sing Shalom Aleichem joyously and loudly...and the old man became anxious and edgy once again. "There's no reason for all this fervor!" he said. "Say it silently!" and the family obeyed. The old man gave them some more gifts.
The old man reappeared on erev Pesach, and the host invited him to the seder. The old man said, "I will only join your seder if you agree to be silent at the Seder. Do as I teach you: Keep the enthusiasm in your heart. Don’t show it on the outside."
The baal habayis said he'd have to ask his wife. She said, "When he stole from our children the birchas hamazon, I kept quiet. Then he took away our Shalom Aleichem, and I also forgave him. But I refuse to give away the Seder night."
The old man became angry and said, "I shouldn’t have given you all those presents since I see that you don’t listen to me."
The baal habayis was worried the old man would ask them to give back all the precious gifts, but his wife saw things differently. She told her husband, "Gather all the presents and return them to him. I don’t want them, and I don’t want his false rebukes."
The Or HaChaim listened in astonishment and said, "Now I understand why there's a holy aura in your house. That man was the yetzer hara, trying to uproot your temimus. The נשים חכמת, the wife's wisdom, בנתה ביתה, saved your home."
The lesson is that external fervor is helpful as it rouses inner emotions. There are those who want to skip the enthusiasm, thinking it is not authentic and unnecessary, but this external fervor is important, as it helps us daven and perform the mitzvos properly. It might be external initially, but it arouses our hearts and helps us daven and perform mitzvos correctly.
