By Rabbi Yoel Gold
I was once having lunch at the Fish Grill, sitting at that corner table by the bench in the back. I was in the middle of my salmon filet, coleslaw, rice, fully settled, when suddenly, a man walks in, followed by his entire family. He looks at me and says, “Rabbi Gold?” “Yes,” I respond.
“I’d like this table.” I said, half-smiling, “That’s nice—I’d also like this table.” But there was urgency in his voice. Something about the tone made me pause. I looked at him, then at his family behind him, thinking perhaps someone needed to sit urgently.
Again, he said, “I really need this table.” Fork in hand, mid-bite, I hesitated for a moment, but then I said, “Okay,” and I slid down the bench to another seat. He sat down, but not where I expected. He positioned himself facing the corner, directly toward the wall. No view or eye contact. Just the wall.
Rabbi Yoel Gold
I continued eating, but my mind was racing. “What just happened?” I had mixed emotions. Curiosity, confusion, a bit of irritation. The whole thing felt strange. And then I saw it. He opened his backpack and carefully took out an oxygen apparatus. He plugged it in and began taking measured breaths. In that instant, everything shifted.
Immediately, I felt a wave of regret and compassion. He needed that table—not for comfort, not for preference—but for dignity. He wanted privacy. He didn’t want people staring.
After a minute or two, once he caught his breath, he turned toward me and said quietly, “Thank you so much. I’m sorry if I came across aggressive.”
My heart melted. In a single moment, judgment turned into understanding and suspicion into empathy. A story I had written in my head was completely rewritten by reality. That is dan l’kaf zechus, giving the benefit of the doubt. It took all of two minutes.
We never know what another person is carrying. What looks like rudeness may be desperation. What feels like entitlement may be vulnerability. Sometimes, all it takes is a pause, and a little humility, to realize how wrong our first assumptions can be. And just like that, the judgment dissolves.
Reprinted from the Parashat Beshalach 5786 edition of TorahAnyTimes as compiled and edited by Elan Perchik.
