"Could You Change the Route Number and Take Us to Jerusalem?" 5 Parables to Ponder

"I Deserve It!"

On the recent night after Rosh Hashanah, crowds of people waited in Bnei Brak at the bus stop for route 402 from Bnei Brak to Jerusalem. The passing buses were jam-packed, and people waited for hours. Naturally, everyone was furious at the transportation company that had promised additional buses.

At one-thirty in the morning, an empty bus arrived at the stop—route number 318. The driver asked the people who they were waiting for so late at night? They told him they were stranded and asked him to change his route number to 402 and take them to Jerusalem.

The driver apologized and asked how they could ask such a thing of him—as he was driving route 318 on his way to Rehovot and could lose his job. The people kept pleading until he agreed, changed the route number to 402, and drove to Jerusalem. Throughout the trip, the passengers blessed him with *mi sheberach* prayers, and they all wished him a sweet and good year.

Toward the end of the journey, one passenger came to the driver and asked him, "How did you really agree to change your route for us? You might get fired tomorrow." The driver replied, "To tell you the truth, the dispatcher asked if one of the drivers could go to the group waiting at the stop for hours. Nobody wanted to, as everyone anticipated the anger and curses they'd receive from passengers for such an nerve-racking delay. Who wants curses at the start of a new year? Then I had an idea, to write route 318 and arrive at the stop. Thanks to this, I received blessings all the way and it will bless my year..."

Friends, what truly makes people so angry at the non-arriving driver, and then switch to endless blessings for the "volunteer" driver?

The great secret lies in two words: "We deserve".

When the bus schedule states that the line should arrive at a certain time and it doesn't, we get angry. They promised, we waited, and it didn't come! When another driver who isn't supposed to take us volunteers to bring us to our destination—even though we paid for this ride—we feel grateful. He's not obliged to us for anything, yet he took us!

When one knows that the Creator of the world owes him nothing—not income, not children, not a home—he becomes happy and doesn't complain. When a person lives with the feeling that everything they have is a free gift from the Creator, then even if, heaven forbid, they lose that thing (income, a leg, heaven forbid), they only thank the Creator for what they have and for what they were fortunate to receive for that period...

(Photo: shutterstock)

Lightening the Load

One day in a social studies class, the teacher asked her students to bring a plastic bag and a sack of potatoes the next day.

The next day, when the students brought a plastic bag and a sack of potatoes, the teacher assigned them a task: "For every person who has wronged you and you haven't forgiven, choose a potato, write the person's name on it, and put it in the plastic bag."

The students gathered the potatoes they brought, wrote names on them, and placed them in the plastic bag as the teacher requested. Very quickly, everyone realized that some bags were heavier than others.

Some wrote names of children from kindergarten or primary school they had argued with, or other figures in their lives whom they resented over time. Everyone wrote names on the potatoes and put them in their personal plastic bags.

"Now," said the teacher, "you must carry these bags with you everywhere you go for a whole month."

As the teacher instructed, the students carried the bags everywhere they went for a whole month: to school, to activities, to the playground, and even to bed… Each felt the weight of their bag, making life uncomfortable.

At the end of the month, the teacher gathered them again and said, "This metaphor best depicts the price we pay for bottling up our pains and anger, and our negative attitude towards different situations. We often think forgiving people is a gift we give them. Now it's clear to all of you that forgiveness is the gift we give ourselves—we cleanse our heart from resentment to be happier and more joyful".

Friends, life is too short to waste on resentment and anger. Release all the bad feelings accumulated in your heart over the years and lighten your life. Give yourself the gift of forgiveness. Cleanse your heart, let go of the "heavy bag" and the excess weight.

Forgive your friend and you'll be forgiven from the heavens...

"As Long as the Candle Burns, It's Possible to Fix"

It was late at night, the streets almost empty of people, no light coming from the windows of the houses. At that time, there was no electricity in the homes, and the only light was candlelight.

Rabbi Yisrael Salanter walked the streets of his city when he suddenly noticed a light coming from one of the street shops. Rabbi Yisrael approached the light source and noticed the town's cobbler working diligently.

He asked the cobbler about it, as the candle was nearly out and the hour was late... why he didn't close up and go to sleep?

The cobbler answered with the words that linger forever, at once both innocent and deep and significant: "Rabbi, as long as the candle burns, it's possible to fix."

Rabbi Yisrael returned and secluded himself in his room for many hours, repeating to himself the sentence, adding: "The soul of a person is the candle of Hashem, and as long as a Jewish soul burns, it is still possible to fix!"

You see, as long as we live in this world, it's a sign that the candle burns, and as long as the candle burns, it's possible to fix! The "candle" burning is the human soul. We need to repent and correct as long as we live. The "correction" is to do one more good deed, one more additional mitzvah.

As long as the candle burns, Rabbi Yisrael says, there is no place for despair! There is still an opportunity to fix, so let us fix.

(Photo: shutterstock)

A Fatal Accident

A child stood on the bus next to the driver. The driver asked him, "Sweetie, what's your name?" "My name is Yossi."

"You've been standing next to me since the ride began, do you want to tell me something?" the driver asked. The child replied, "Driver, please get into an accident." "An accident? An accident with whom?" the surprised driver asked.

"A car accident," the child responded. "Why have an accident?" asked the driver. "I don't know, my mom read about car accidents in the newspaper, I want to see a car accident once. So... have an accident." The driver told him, "I won't do it, under any circumstances!"

The child began to cry and continued begging the driver: "Please, have an accident...!" The driver, of course, did not give in to the child's pleas...

We all certainly understand the driver. But sometimes, we behave like the child—we ask the Creator for different requests, we beg for a certain thing, but the truth is, the request is a "disaster" for us. We plead and don't get because the Creator knows it's a disaster for us, and in his great mercy, he doesn't grant us our request. We don't understand why the request isn't fulfilled, we cry and cry... and don’t receive. Then, we start complaining against the heavens, neglecting mitzvot, becoming anti towards the Creator, but we don't realize that... everything is for our good! Our request is... a 'fatal accident' for us...

We do not know what is truly good for us, we are limited in our long-term vision, but there is a higher eye above us that sees what is good for us now and what will be good for us in years to come. Remember, no one wants your good more than your Father in heaven! Even if you didn't get what you wanted, there is an excellent reason for it, it is the best for you!

Have trust in the Creator in all your ways, wherever you go, and whatever happens on your path, it will always be for your good.

Judging Favorably

On one summer and busy Monday, my mother, my sister, and I went to the clinic. We were in a hurry to get somewhere else, and we hoped to finish this appointment as quickly as possible. The appointment was set for me, and my sister stayed in the car, as we thought it wouldn’t take long.

We arrived at the clinic, the type where everyone that enters presents their health fund card, and they get a place in the queue for the doctor they need to see.

My mother opened her wallet and suddenly realized the appointment was for me, so my card had to be presented. She remained by the machine, and I started rummaging in my bag in search of my wallet, a task that takes no more than half a minute.

Meanwhile, the door opened next to us, and into the clinic came a tall man with a laptop and sunglasses. He stood by the machine and appeared intent on swiping his card.

My mother said to him, "Excuse me, we were here before you."

He stopped, looked at her and then at me (I just found my card), and with a sweep of his hand, swiped his card. We saw he was scheduled for the same doctor we came for, before us.

My mother again addressed him patiently: "Excuse me, we need to see the same doctor, and we were here before you. Would you agree to exchange..." The man turned his back on us and headed towards the waiting corridor. We were both stunned by his manner.

Doesn't want to let us go ahead? Fine, but let him explain or at least react and give us the minimum respect due to people, why treat us as if we were air?

On that very day, I heard a lesson about "judging favorably." After the anger subsided, I began applying what I'd learned. I resolved that if he behaved this way, there probably was a reason for it. What to do? With my limited understanding, I don't know it. I admit—I didn't stop being angry, but at least I knew that he might not be at fault, and all I had left was to get used to handling such situations calmly, and even with love.

We waited patiently in line, and the time dragged on and on. In my mind, I reviewed all the things I planned to accomplish that day. It seemed the wait would never end...

My mother was filled with guilty feelings about my sister left alone in the car.

After a long wait, once the man finally exited (and the clinic nearly emptied...), we could see the doctor. We were there for about fifteen minutes, and finished. From the clinic, we proceeded to the pharmacy, to purchase the prescription medication. Guess who was ahead of me in line? Right, none other than the man who cut in front of us at the clinic. Just who I needed to wait for now.

I watched as he approached the pharmacist, and suddenly I noticed he had only one whole ear. What was on the other side of his head could hardly be called an ear.

The pharmacist turned to him: "Yes, sir."

No response.

The pharmacist raised her voice: "Yes, I'm with you."

Suddenly, I realized you have to speak very loudly for him to understand he's even being addressed. It turns out, when we spoke to him, he did not comprehend that we meant to talk to him.

In a heavy Russian accent, he began stammering in English the name of the medication he needed. He doesn't understand Hebrew either! How could we be angry at a disabled innocent man?

All the anger turned into compassion for the man, who clearly struggles to communicate in the environment he lives in. Who knows how many people already unleashed their frustrations on him today (and in general...)?

I left the clinic feeling I had acquired a perfect lesson in "judging favorably," but not just in that. This lesson, I felt, was sent to me from above. This man was essentially just a messenger whose job was to teach me something...

As a result, I gained another treasure for life. Like most people, I, too, wish to live rightly and well. That day I learned that it's not right to let external things determine my state of mind.

Deep inside, I know well who it is that sends me these "annoying" moments, and what his purpose is. Just as any normal human father wants to benefit his children as much as possible, I understand that Hashem likewise intends to benefit me...