Give Someone the Gift of Believing in Himself

Around seven years ago, a young man I know called me just a few hours before Shabbat. He told me that he had a younger friend, sixteen years old, who had just left the yeshiva mid-term. This boy had a difficult relationship with his family and he was essentially drifting aimlessly. My friend had invited the boy, who we'll call Meyer, to stay with him for Shabbat. "I was just wondering if you could find some time to meet with Meyer and talk to him for a few minutes, perhaps tell him something inspiring," my friend asked.

"Sure, no problem," I replied. "Come for the daytime meal, by all means."

When they arrived, I greeted Meyer with a warm "Shabbat Shalom" and extended my hand. Meyer offered his hand in return—an open, inviting hand. A hand with its palm facing upward in an open invitation. A hand extended generously. He looked into my eyes, and I saw before me a young man with a determined gaze and a high forehead.

After making Kiddush, I turned to him and said: "Meyer, I know very little about you, but from your body language, from the way you extended an open and welcoming hand that both contains and receives, it's clear that you have tremendous inner strength. You are a person with immense abilities. Body language is a very authentic language, difficult to fake," I explained. "Your steady gaze and powerful forehead send the same message. I'm sure that if you channel your strengths toward the right places, you can achieve great things. You're someone who can transform the world."

Meyer didn't respond and I had no idea how he had taken my words. I didn't see him again for six years. Whenever I met up with my friend, I would ask after him and each time he would tell me that unfortunately, Meyer was still drifting to the point that he was very, very distant from the Torah.

Four years passed, and one day, I met up with my friend and asked after Meyer and to my delight, there was good news this time. Meyer had returned to yeshivah and seemed back on track. He remained there for the next few years, during which he became one of the outstanding students.

Around six years after we first met, I was privileged to receive an invitation to his wedding. In the margin of the invitation, Meyer had added a handwritten message: "Rabbi Margalit, I want you to know that the words you spoke to me that Shabbat never left me. I went through some very difficult times. I was lonely and distant, both physically and spiritually. But your words seeped into me, and many times I found myself wondering: 'Do I really have such tremendous inner strength?' And one day I realized that the answer was yes, that I really could turn my life around. If you can come to my wedding, no one would be happier than me. I'm really looking forward to seeing you."

Meyer's letter moved me deeply, and I attended his wedding. When he saw me, he immediately rushed toward me and embraced me with tears in his eyes. "Rabbi, I want you to know that it was your words that gave me strength to put myself back together."