A survivor of the flames of the Holocaust, R’ Shmuel Grunbaum left war-torn Europe and emigrated to America, where he made a home for himself in the Williamsburg section of Brooklyn. After various attempts to find a job, R’ Shmuel found a position working in an egg store. It was a dependable job, but the salary was minimal. R’ Shmuel had to devise an additional means of income.
Building on his current position, R’ Shmuel began an innovative service: he would sell and deliver eggs directly to the customer. Business began slowly, with an order here and an order there. Word of R’ Shmuel’s prompt and ethical business spread, and soon R’ Shmuel received his first weekly customer.
One afternoon, R’ Shmuel was busy making his scheduled deliveries. He walked up the narrow flight of steps and carefully placed the carton of eggs on the doorstep of his weekly customer. R’ Shmuel walked down the steps and began making his way down the street. Quite unexpectedly, there was a tap on his shoulder.
“Excuse me, can you help us make a minyan for minhah?” The man motioned toward the basement entrance of the building R’ Shmuel had just left.
“Certainly, I will join you.”
Within a few minutes, the afternoon service commenced. Their small minyan of ten grew as the prayers progressed. All proceeded normally until the middle of the hazan’s recitation of the prayers.
A sudden movement at one side of the shul caught R’ Shmuel’s attention. A man was entering the low-ceilinged shul with a large carton in his hands. R’ Shmuel had no trouble recognizing the carton - it contained the eggs he had just delivered!
R’ Shmuel watched in confusion as the man circulated the room. Each person took a few eggs from the carton and put them aside until the end of minhah.
When his turn came, R’ Shmuel waved the man on, indicating that he had no need for eggs. He looked at the eggs in the man’s hand, then stared around the shul. Each man there was now the proud possessor of one or two eggs.
R’ Shmuel was flabbergasted. What was the reason for this strange ritual?
When the services were over, R’ Shmuel approached the man with the now empty carton. “Tell me, where does this custom come from - to give out eggs during prayers?”
The man smiled at his puzzled expression. “This is the Skwere shteibel,” he explained. “The Rebbetzin, who lives upstairs, wanted to support a fellow in the wholesale eggs business. She places a weekly order, but she doesn’t really need so many eggs. So, she asked me to give them out to the minyan so they won’t go to waste. Understand? It’s as simple as that.”
R’ Shmuel nodded thoughtfully. “Oh yes,” he said fervently, “I understand a lot better than you think.”
R’ Shmuel thanked the man and ascended the stairs into the waning sunlight. His burden had been lightened by the discreet concern of the Rebbetzin of Skwere. (Excerpted from the book – “Visions of Greatness VII”)
Reprinted from the Parshat Mikeitz 5786 email of Rabbi David Bibi’s Shabbat Shalom from Cyberspace.
