By Rabbi Moshe Hirschberg
Rabbi Efraim Roitman, the founder of the Hashem Loves You hotline, once shared with me an extraordinary story — one he knew firsthand. Its lesson offers remarkable inspiration. It can be applied on both “good days” and “bad days,” but perhaps it is most vital precisely on the difficult ones.
Many years ago, Rabbi Efraim received a call from a middle-aged man. The moment he heard the man’s voice, Rabbi Efraim sensed that something was wrong — very wrong.
The caller had initially reached out because of Rabbi Efraim’s experience helping couples with shalom bayis. But only a short time into the conversation, it became clear that the situation ran far deeper. Before the matter of shalom bayis could be addressed, many other issues had to be confronted.
The man confided that he was unable to maintain steady employment. His lack of a consistent job not only strained his finances but also shattered his self-esteem. Whenever he encountered adversity, he would lash out in anger. His reactions pushed people away, making it nearly impossible for anyone to want to hire him.
Rabbi Efraim now faced the challenge of somehow guiding this man through the tangled mess of his life. And the damage extended far beyond his livelihood and his shalom bayis. Even his family had begun to build a quiet resistance toward him. The slightest perceived disrespect — a glance, a whisper, even a harmless gesture — could ignite a sudden flame of anger.
Rabbi Efraim’s goal was to help the man reach a place where he once again felt safe, valued, and capable. Perhaps, he hoped, that would unlock the bolts of the wall that had formed between him and the people around him, allowing him to flourish again with the abilities he truly possessed.
Rabbi Eitan Feiner
As he searched for a way forward, Rabbi Efraim recalled a story he had once heard from Rabbi Eitan Feiner, the Rav of the White Shul in Far Rockaway. Years earlier, at a Shabbos HaGadol drashah, Rabbi Feiner had prefaced the story with an opening remark: Although the incident involved a non-Jew, its message carried a powerful lesson — one that anyone could learn from.
Rabbi Efraim hoped that Rabbi Feiner’s lesson would help this struggling man as well.
Judge John Kralik once found himself at a very low point in life. His law practice was failing, his personal life was strained, and he felt overwhelmed by everything that seemed to be going wrong.
One day, while reflecting on his situation, he had a simple but powerful idea. Instead of focusing on what he lacked, he would focus on what he had. He set a goal to write one handwritten thank-you note every day for an entire year.
At first, it felt awkward. But slowly, something remarkable began to happen. As he forced himself to search for people to thank, he began noticing kindness everywhere — from friends, colleagues, family members, and even strangers.
Even more surprising, the greatest change did not happen in others — it happened within himself. His outlook shifted from frustration to appreciation, and the relationships in his life began to improve. Kralik later described this experience in his book, where he reflects on how such a small daily act transformed the way he saw his life.
This story reflects a fundamental Torah value: hakaras hatov — recognizing and appreciating the good we receive.
“Human nature tends to focus on what is missing,” explained Rabbi Efraim to his caller. “Yet, when a person trains themselves to notice the good, their entire perspective changes. Chazal teach that gratitude is not merely good manners; it is a core middah that shapes a person’s character.
“Often, we think life must improve before we can feel grateful. But the lesson is the opposite. When a person becomes grateful, life itself begins to feel full of blessing. When we practice hakaras hatov — toward the people around us and toward Hashem — we begin to see that our lives are already filled with countless acts of kindness.”
The man on the phone took well to Rabbi Efraim’s idea.
The very next morning, after his children boarded their bus to school and his wife left for work, he sat down at his quiet dining-room table. From his pocket, he pulled out his gel pen, placed it against a blank sheet of paper, and began to write.
He wrote letters to many people — even those he wasn’t on good terms with. At first, it was not easy. But he did it anyway.
A few days later, some replies began to arrive. Each returned letter became a small stepping-stone, helping him slowly climb out of the mire he had been trapped in.
Just two weeks later, he attended a family bar mitzvah. The guests were in for quite a surprise. Their uncle — who had spent years finding fault in everyone around him — suddenly seemed different. He began speaking warmly with relatives. He asked about their lives. He showed genuine interest in their wellbeing and expressed real compassion. It was a side of him that no one had seen in over twenty years.
Six weeks later, Rabbi Efraim received another phone call.
“I got a job!” the caller exclaimed excitedly.
“That’s wonderful,” Rabbi Efraim replied. “But...who is this?”
In his line of work, Rabbi Efraim often spoke with many people anonymously and would usually recognize them by the tone of their voice. But this voice sounded entirely unfamiliar. Only after the man identified himself did Rabbi Efraim realize who he was speaking to — and only then did he truly grasp the depth of the transformation that had taken place.
How this change ultimately affected the man’s shalom bayis, Rabbi Efraim does not know. But one thing he does know: It has been more than a decade since that conversation, and the man has never needed to call back for assistance. (Rabbi Efraim’s hotline can be heard by calling: 267 833 0596)
