A 200-Shekel Donation or 20 10-Shekel Donations? Does It Matter?

It was the afternoon before Yom Kippur and I headed over to the mikveh to fulfill the mitzvah of sanctifying myself before the holiday. The hour was relatively early and I was in no particular hurry. When I got there, someone approached me at the entrance and said: "Rabbi Aaron, can I ask you for a favor? If it's not too much trouble, when you enter the mikveh building, there are some poor people sitting to one side. Please can you give ten shekels to the first person on the right?"

I readily agreed and he handed me the coin. "But why don't you just give it to him yourself?" I asked him. The man just smiled and thanked me before turning away. So I went inside and did as he had requested, adding some of my own money, and then I gave to the other people collecting too.

To be honest, I was really curious. What was the reason for this mysterious mission? Perhaps the man knew the charity collector and didn't want to embarrass him? Perhaps he was trying to give anonymously? I enjoy such stories, not just because of my curiosity, but also because I always try to learn from people. I believe that if we just observe people's actions, we can see the wonderful beauty within them, which isn't always obvious at first glance.

When I left the mikveh, I noticed the same man was still there. By now there was a line of people waiting to enter, and he was going up to each of them in turn, talking with each one for a few seconds and handing them a coin. I realized he was making the same request of everyone that he had made of me, and I became even more curious. I headed over to him and said: "My friend, I can see there's an interesting story here. If you don't want to, you don't have to tell me, but if I can learn something valuable then I'd really appreciate it."

The man relented and explained: "I don't know the charity collector, but I met him the day after Rosh Hashanah in the synagogue. We chatted a bit, and he opened up to me. 'Things aren't what they used to be,' he said. 'People used to come to the mikveh before Rosh Hashanah and give charity generously. Lately, it's just not the same. This year, I sat for three hours at the entrance to the mikveh, and only one person gave me something. True, he gave generously -- over a hundred shekels -- but he was just one person!'

"I decided that on the afternoon before Yom Kippur I would give him 200 shekels. Yesterday I started wondering how I'd go about it. If I gave him the money in a single note, he'd still feel bad that only one person donated. So I decided to cash the note into ten-shekel coins and ask people I know to take a coin and put it in his box. This way, he'd feel that twenty people made the effort, and maybe that would encourage other people to donate more as well."

The man finished his story and I shook his hand warmly, full of admiration for his generosity, creativity, and caring.