emunah, tefillah, a little mussar, and a shmeck of geula

Wednesday, July 17, 2013

Amain



As we were waiting for the light to change at the point where the service road to that man made horror, otherwise known as the Van Wyck Expressway, intersects Jamaica Avenue, I noticed a disheveled man holding up a crude cardboard sign that conveyed that he was a Vietnam Vet down on his luck and out of work. 

From the looks of him I would say that he had been down on his luck long enough to have forgotten what luck means.

And did I say it was raining?

We’re talking buckets here, and there he was totally exposed to the elements that appeared to have him between the cross hairs.

So the great tzaddik in the passenger’s seat asked his wife for a dollar which he in turn handed over to the soggy vet thereby almost drowning in the process due to the intrusion of the said elements during the few seconds that the window was open.

But before the great tzaddik could retreat into his controlled and very dry environment the soggy vet said: 

G-d bless you!

And so we proceeded on our way, all the while internally preening over the good deed that we brought to the table of humanity.

The truth is that we messed up big time, but I’m getting a little ahead of myself.

As we all know, Sara Imainu was criticized by the Torah for laughing when she was told by angels that appeared to be Arabs that she would give birth in the coming year.
 
What did the Torah want from her anyway?  Here she is, about 72 years or so out of seminary and what appears to be three marauders from the desert get a little carried away from the three bottles of wine that the Torah omitted to tell us were on the menu. 

Rabbi Tuvia Lief relates, in the name of the Ramban, that a Jew should never consider anything impossible.
Amain is huge and Sara should have said it on the spot.
And even if you are blessed by a bum in the street say amain, kain he ratzon.

OOPS!

I heard this particular shiur about five hours after I forked over the dollar to that nebach of a veteran, and in response to my inquiry as to whether either of us answered amain to his brocha the best my wife could do was to shake her head…

…horizontally.

I thought about going back to that intersection armed with a twenty dollar bill but it wouldn’t have helped because tests are not for sale. Their timing is not of our choosing nor do we set the terms. The best we can hope to do is to respond affirmatively when the opportunity presents itself. If we do, then mazel tov.  If not, then Hashem should strengthen us for the next round.

Amain.