Making Room

A distinguished Yerushalmi, Reb Shmuel Belchavitz*, lived with his large family in Yerushalayim. For years, he had built his sukkah on the balcony of their apartment, but as his children grew older and the family grew larger, the little sukkah could no longer hold everyone comfortably.

His sons therefore decided one year that they would build a large sukkah downstairs in the courtyard.

They measured the area carefully, purchased walls to the exact dimensions they needed, and spent hours laboring over the construction. Finally, after considerable effort, the sukkah stood complete.

Then came a knock at the door. It was one of the neighbors. “Part of your sukkah,” he informed them, "is standing in the place where I park my car. I want you to take it apart and move it somewhere else."

Reb Shmuel tried to reason with him. The sukkah had already been built, his sons had invested hours of hard work, and it was only for the eight days of Sukkos. Perhaps, just this once, the neighbor could park elsewhere.

The neighbor would not hear of it. The space was his, he insisted, and he did not grant them permission to use it.

When the sons heard what had happened, they were furious. “What does he care if he parks somewhere else for eight days?" they argued. Then they started with halachic reasoning, claiming that it was not at all clear that the spot belonged exclusively to this neighbor. All the residents shared rights to the area, so why should they dismantle an entire sukkah because of one unreasonable demand?

Reb Shmuel listened and then gave them his answer. "I will not sit in a sukkah that causes another Jew pain. If you want me to eat my Yom Tov meals in this sukkah, take it apart and move it.”

That was the end of the discussion.

Reluctantly, the sons began again. They dismantled the sukkah they had spent hours constructing, carried the pieces to another part of the courtyard, and rebuilt the entire structure, this time in a place that fully satisfied the neighbor.

The first day of Sukkos passed. Late that night, after Yom Tov had ended, the family was asleep in their sukkah when they were suddenly awakened by tremendous crashes from across the courtyard.

They rushed outside.

Three enormous Jerusalem stones had broken loose from high above and crashed directly onto...the parking spot where their sukkah had originally stood. The neighbor's car was crushed under them.

The family stared at the wreckage. Had they refused to move their sukkah, their children would have been sleeping in that exact spot. The outcome scarcely needed imagining.

Reb Shmuel had given up a perfectly reasonable argument because he refused to cause another Jew anguish. He had insisted on making room for someone else, even when he believed he did not have to. Only later did they discover what else had been made room for.

Their lives.

They made room for another Jew — and Heaven made room for them to live.