When Praise Reunites Families and Opens Hearts

Rabbi Aharon Tauseig tells this amazing story, noting that while all the details are true, he has changed some personal information to protect those involved.

"This story is about a speaker and we’ll call him Shimon," begins Rabbi Tauseig. "One day, Shimon gets a call from a community member and let’s call him Reuven who had just celebrated his daughter’s wedding. Reuven says, 'Rabbi Shimon, we’re hosting the final Sheva Brachot tomorrow night at our home, and I would be honored if you could come and say a few words.'"

Speakers get such invitations all the time, but this one had a surprising request. Reuven added, "And please speak in my praise." That was unusual.

"Of course, everyone appreciates compliments and no one ever got hurt by receiving one. But to ask for it directly? That was strange," Rabbi Tauseig notes. "Especially because Reuven wasn’t the type to seek attention. He was modest and respectful, not someone who pushed for honor. Something deeper was clearly going on."

Shimon, curious, asked around about Reuven and his family. As expected, he heard only good things, kind, honest, respected. He checked into the groom’s side as well: wonderful people, distinguished families on both sides. The groom himself was known for his Torah learning, good character, and warm nature. Everything seemed perfect. The mystery remained, but Shimon figured he’d do his part and give a meaningful speech.

When he arrived at the Sheva Brachot celebration, Reuven greeted him with eyes full of anticipation and gratitude. Shimon got up to speak. He started with a few words from the weekly Torah portion and gently transitioned into heartfelt praise first for the groom’s family, then for the groom himself.

“Oh, such an outstanding young man, and what a home he’s joining,” Shimon said. “A home filled with warmth, kindness, and the highest standards of menschlichkeit (good character).” He spoke from the heart, sincerely and thoughtfully. Everyone smiled. The room felt joyful and full of light.

Shimon felt he had done his part well. Sheva Brachot are meant to bring joy, and this one certainly did.

But the next afternoon, just before 3:00, Reuven called again. “I can’t thank you enough for that speech,” he said. “Really, it was nothing,” Shimon replied.

But Reuven insisted on coming by in person. When he arrived, he handed Shimon an envelope filled with money as a thank-you. Naturally, Shimon refused. A mitzvah especially one that involves bringing peace and joy is not something you sell.

Reuven’s wife said, “If you only knew how much is in that envelope, you wouldn’t refuse it.”

Curious, Shimon peeked inside: $1,000 in cash.

He shook his head. “That’s too much, I can’t accept it.”

But Reuven said, “Please, it’s ma’aser money, for charity, from the profit we made because of your speech.”

Shimon looked confused. What kind of profit?

Reuven explained: “Before the engagement, we worked out all the financial arrangements. Like the Talmud says, ‘How much will you give your son? This much. Your daughter? That much.’ It’s all sealed by word of mouth. I took on all the responsibilities, we found an apartment, bought furniture, everything. And my mechutan (in-law) always paid his share on time. A month ago, I called him to say, Baruch Hashem, we’re ready for the final $10,000 payment.”

“But he replied, ‘That was last month. I already paid everything.’ I was stunned. We had clearly agreed. But he acted like I was lying, trying to cheat him.”

Reuven paused, holding back emotion. “I didn’t even argue. I was too shocked. I went to a wise rabbi for advice. He sighed and asked, ‘If your house was on fire, and you remembered you left $10,000 on the table, would you run in to save it?’”

‘Of course not,’ I said.

‘Well,’ the rabbi told me, ‘conflict is fire. Don’t run into it, not even for $10,000.’”

So Reuven dropped the issue. He paid the missing money himself. But inside, he couldn’t let go. He didn’t say a word to his mechutan during the entire week of Sheva Brachot. Not even “mazal tov.” His mechutan looked at him with suspicion, as if he were the one who had cheated.

Rabbi Tauseig says, “With tears in his eyes, Reuven told Shimon, ‘I didn’t ask you to praise me because I wanted compliments. I just wanted my mechutan to see the truth that we’re a good, respectable family. And you handled it so wisely. You praised his character and his family, and then spoke about how both sides come from good roots like ‘grapes of the vine with grapes of the vine.’ You even said you knew it personally. That touched his heart.’”

“After the meal, my mechutan wanted to speak to me,” Reuven continued. “At first I avoided him. But he had someone call me into a side room. And then he said, ‘I heard the speech. Everything he said about me was true and I guess what he said about you is probably true too. If you say we agreed on that amount, I believe you. I honestly don’t remember it that way, but it’s possible I was mistaken. I’ll send the money tomorrow.’”

“And he did,” said Reuven. “This morning, your son delivered it. Ten thousand dollars. So yes, you deserve the ma’aser.”

Shimon was moved. “In that case,” he smiled, “I accept it.” But then he added, “I also want to share in the mitzvah of hachnasat kallah, helping a bride. Please take the money and use it for good.”

Rabbi Tauseig finishes the story with a powerful point. “This story is true. I know every detail. And what a lesson! One heartfelt speech brought peace and ten thousand dollars. But just one careless comment could have ruined everything.”

Shimon, while speaking, had noticed someone in the crowd whispering to a neighbor: “There’s no limit to exaggeration. How much can one overdo it?”

Imagine if the mechutan had overheard that. He could’ve thought, “Even his friend says it’s all fake.” And the peace they had just found would have crumbled.

“Words,” says Rabbi Tauseig, “can build and they can destroy. In this case, they built something beautiful. But never forget: even one sentence can be the spark that sets a fire.”

(From Mekarvan L’Torah, courtesy of the Dirshu website)