SHHHHHH!

She doesn’t understand because she gave with such good intentions. It seems to be a repeated pattern. She wants to give and show love, but she forgets to listen to what the receiver asks for. She wants to show love, but the love isn’t in the right place or the right time or composed of the right components. The receiver asked for water and she, she who so much wants to give, brings her something that she thinks is better, she brings her juice. The receiver gets upset because it wasn’t what she wanted to quench her thirst. The giver is hurt, offended. She feels resentment. But really, why should the receiver drink juice, when she wanted water?

The receiver tells her she’s on a diet and she’s watching her weight, but she, she the giver, she loves to bake and she loves to give so she brings her a cake. The cake is left untouched, uneaten and the giver cries. She worked so hard and she wanted to give so much and she’s offended. But really, why should the receiver eat the cake when she told the giver that she can’t?

Her husband asks her for a specific favor. She does something else proclaiming love. He gets upset, she cries. She doesn’t understand. He asked for A, but she loves B so she gave him B because this is what she loves and this is what she loves to give. She doesn’t understand what she did wrong. She’s hurt and upset. But this happens so many times. He for his part feels unloved and disrespected.

I worked for hours, hours, cooking that beautiful holiday meal. The men arrived from shul and it’s already late. With excitement we start our Pesach seder and I notice that the hot plate isn’t working. The food is cold. My head is only in the cold food and what I perceive will be a ruined meal. I seem to forget that the only thing asked of me this holy night is to eat some matza and drink some wine, to recount the leaving of Egypt and eat some charoset, bitter herbs, which we have and also those salty tears.

The only thing asked of me is to be present and to be happy and to listen to what’s being asked of me. And sometimes this is the hardest test.

And Aaron's sons, Nadab and Abihu, each took his pan, put fire in them, and placed incense upon it, and they brought before the Lord foreign fire, which He had not commanded them. And fire went forth from before the Lord and consumed them, and they died before the Lord (Vayikra 10:1-2)

This is the hardest test because we do love and we do want to give. And it’s not that Aaron’s sons, Nadab and Abihu weren’t good, in fact they were so so close to Hashem and so so holy. But true love is at times not doing what’s good for me but doing what’s good for you. It’s listening and paying attention to what’s really needed, to what’s really asked. It’s doing what they want, not what we want. It’s giving what they need, not what we need to give. It’s listening and respecting. It’s understanding that there are boundaries and borders. That there are times to give and times not.

***

The drink spilled, the item lost or broke. She wants to say something. Oh, does she want to say something. “Can’t you be more careful? I told you that would happen? Why can’t you take better care of your things?”

She stops herself and she imagines that she has a piece of tape, or maybe it’s glue. She seals her mouth shut and she just stays silent. She bends down and she helps him clean up the mess. It’s all for the best. There’s a lesson here to learn. Instead of criticizing she helps her find what she lost.

She herself did it again. She made the mistake. She wants to tell herself, “You’re so stupid! When will you learn?” She stops herself and she imagines that she has a piece of tape, or maybe it’s glue. She seals her mouth shut and turns off those thoughts. She just stays silent and gives herself encouragement that she can change and it can be different next time. There’s a reason that this happened and even a reason she made the mistake.

Can you imagine the blessing? Can you imagine the reward?

It was over a month ago. I was at the cashier at the supermarket. The place was empty. No one was in line. I had a purse full of change that I wanted to use up instead of the bill, which I needed. The cashier told me the amount. I couldn’t find that change and so I handed her the bill. Then, less than a second later, I found it. I asked her to give back the bill. I would give her the change. She yelled at me. I mean really yelled at me. I was taking too much time and no, she wouldn’t give back the bill.

I stood stunned by her tone of voice. Then I thought to myself, “How sad that she’s missing out on an easy act of kindness.” Unusual for myself I kept my mouth shut and didn’t retort or reply to her yelling. I told myself, “Let this be an atonement. There’s a reason behind this.”

An hour later my daughter made some cookies. I didn’t know, but she put them on the top rack in the oven with wax paper sticking up. The paper caught on fire. We were all in my bedroom reading a story oblivious to the fire. We smelled smoke.

I told my daughter to check the cookies and she screamed, “Fire.”

I didn’t understand, but I jumped up and ran to the kitchen. My oven was open and there was a ball of flame. I quickly closed the oven door and ran for everyone to get out.

The fire stopped and chesdei Hashem, G-d’s kindness, nothing except for the cookies was harmed or damaged.

And I think to myself was it this salvation a reward for doing that simple, but not so easy act of being quiet an hour before at the supermarket?

And Aaron was silent (ibid. 3).

And Aaron was silent: [and did not complain. Consequently,] he was rewarded for his silence... — [Vayikra Rabbah 12:2]- Rashi

Ah, to be silent. If it were easy there wouldn’t be the possibility of so much reward.

But can you imagine what happens when we do it? Can you imagine the blessing, the growing, the building, when we so so much want to say something and we don’t?

When we want to shout and instead we just stay silent? Not the silence of defeat or insecurity, the silence of acceptance and letting go. The silence of faith and confidence. The silence of blessing and reward.

***

May we merit to love and be loved in the way that’s wanted and needed, to give and to be given. May we merit to know when to talk and when to stay silent. May we accept and grow from our acceptance.

This was written as a dedication and Mazel Tov to one of my greatest teachers in my life, my blessing, my son, Avraham Nissim נ'י. Mazel tov on his Bar Mitzvah, Aliyat haTorah, birthday on shevi shel Pesach. May he always be growing and doing the will of Hashem with joy. May I be blessed as a mother with the wisdom to love him as he needs and give him what he needs. May Hashem give me the knowledge to know when to guide him with words and when to be silent!

Shabbat Shalom ve Chag Sameach!

Elana