Shmuly the Spring-A Story

Someone sent me this very inspiring, poignant and emotionally touching story and I want to share it with you. Although it is very long, it is worth the read.

Hi. My name is Shmuel, and I am 28 years old. 

Most of the people who know me simply call me “Shmuly.”

I am not used to telling stories. I’m the kind of guy who does better with action. That is why it took me some time to put together all the parts of my personal story and write it down so that I can share it with you.

My story began about eighteen years ago.
I was ten years old, a pretty regular kid, just like everyone else…except in one area. 
I had a really hard time sitting in one place for a prolonged period of time.

And when I say “time,” I don’t mean what you probably think. My concept of time is different than most people’s. “Too much time,” for me, means a few seconds.

Yeah, I’m a “spring,” if you will. 

If this would be today, I would surely get a diagnosis comprised of a string of initials (along with a pill or two), but in those days there weren’t that many interpretations, so the nickname given to me was short and friendly, “Shmuly the Spring.” 

Honestly, I didn’t mind. I knew that it was true, and I could actually relate to the imagery.

Baruch Hashem, I had no complaints. I had incredible rabbeim who didn’t make a big issue out of my hyperactivity. 

Everyone in my class was already used to the fact that Shmuly the Spring is the one who is sent to bring the rebbe coffee in middle of class, and other such jobs, basically keeping me busy. And truthfully, I liked the arrangement, too. 

I would sit in front of the rebbe and try hard to listen and understand what he was teaching. Then, when I couldn’t focus anymore (usually after a few minutes), I would look for something to do. At that point I would hear the rebbe’s voice calling to me, “Shmuly, please get us some more chalk.” I would happily get up and run to perform the chore.

That was basically what my life in school was like. 

One morning, as we waited for our rebbe to enter the classroom, the principal walked in instead. He stood behind the rebbe’s desk and asked for silence.

“I’m sorry to share this with you,” he said, “but your rebbe has suddenly fallen ill and had to undergo emergency surgery last night. He will not be coming back for the next few weeks.”

We were in shock. We loved our rebbe and were really worried about him.

The principal continued, “Now, boys, let’s say some Tehillim for his recovery.” We said some Tehillim with extra kavanah for our rebbe’s speedy recovery.

That day, the principal taught us, but the following day he walked into our classroom with a man we didn’t know. 

“Boys,” the principal said, “this is Rabbi Substitute. He is going to be your substitute rebbe until your regular rebbe gets better, be’ezras Hashem.”

Rabbi Substitute walked over to the rebbe’s desk, and the principal left the classroom.
I’m not sure what made me immediately realize that my life was not going to be easy with Rabbi Substitute. Maybe it was the stern look on his face, or the hoarse voice with which he addressed us, but something told me there was going to be trouble soon.
I was right. It was only a few minutes later when I sensed a heavy shadow over me. I looked up and found Rabbi Substitute staring angrily down at me through his somewhat-dirty glasses.

“What are you busy with over there?” he thundered. 

I dropped the beautiful paper airplane I had just completed. The stunning plane did not have a chance inside Rabbi Substitute’s clutched fist, and I felt my heart tearing inside me along with it. 

I found myself standing shamefacedly in the principal’s office.

After recess was over, I returned to the classroom. But this scenario repeated itself over and over again in different variations.
After a few days of mounting frustration on all sides, my parents were called to the school. “In my class, all students must learn,” Rabbi Substitute told them firmly. “What do you think he’s going to grow up to be like if he doesn’t use his brain?” He refused to allow me to perform the various tasks that had been my lifeline until then. 

Every day, I would be punished and sent out of the classroom in humiliation. I began to feel disappointed and disgusted with myself. I always knew that I was not exactly a typical child, I knew that I was better with my hands than with my head, but I always managed somehow, thanks the energy that Hashem endowed me with and the fact that I loved to help people.

For Rabbi Substitute, however, these qualities meant nothing.

One day, Rabbi Substitute decided to call an emergency meeting to discuss my problems. My parents and I were both called in for a long, painful lecture. I remember my father trying to say something like, “Our Shmuly has other qualities… Maybe his head is less at work but he has amazing hands…”, but Rabbi Substitute didn’t allow my father to say a word.

And here, I remember how Rabbi Substitute’s face reddened. He pointed a finger at me and shouted, “If you don’t start using your head, you’ll amount to nothing! Nothing!”

Then he added under his breath, “Good hands will make you a good plumber, nothing more.”

The days passed, somehow, and finally, finally, our regular rebbe recovered and returned to the classroom. I never saw Rabbi Substitute again.

With time, I even managed to forget his hurtful words. Most of the time. 

Sometimes, unexpectedly, I would hear his words playing in my head and shrink into myself with humiliation. When that happened, I would feel like an absolute nothing.

Is that all I could ever hope to amount to? A plumber? Could I really do nothing more? Was I truly worth nothing?!

I admit, though, that this did not happen often. Most of the time, I was busy performing the countless chores and tasks that my rabbeim came up with to keep me busy and confident. 

I grew up, finished cheder, and then yeshivah ketanah. I was accepted to a good yeshivah gedolah thanks to my many other talents. So maybe I was not the brightest boy in the class, but I had other things going for me. The many small jobs I did in yeshivah helped me tremendously. The yeshivah and summer camps were where I felt proud and happy.

When I started shidduchim, I knew more or less what kind of girl I wanted to marry. A short while later, I met my wife who wanted me just as I was.

We got married, and I began my married life in kollel. Of course, at the same time, I was searching for some action to fill up my day too; something that would keep me busy and allow me to feel good about myself. 

I found that in Israel’s medical emergency response team, a job that saves me from myself. I do many shifts, am always first at the scene and the last to leave it. 

Some people might make a face hearing that, but I love the drama and the action, and – more than anything else – the tremendous chessed that I can perform for people in the most critical moments of their lives. 

Slowly, I started climbing up the ranks. I did further training. At some point, MADA became my second home.

One night, I woke up to the sound of the dispatcher calling all nearby volunteers to rush to an emergency nearby. Apparently, someone had lost consciousness and needed help. 

The address was nowhere nearby, but for some reason I decided to rush to the scene anyway. I figured that there were not many volunteers in that area, and the late hour would make it even less likely that someone could get there quickly. MADA’s headquarters were also too far from the scene. 

I jumped into my car and quickly drove over to the address the dispatcher had announced. As soon as I arrived, I realized that I had indeed arrived first. I grabbed my first-aid kit and rushed up the stairs. The panicked voices and the light coming from the apartment led me directly to an elderly man lying on the living room floor. A woman stood next to him – his wife, I presumed – crying hysterically. 
I quickly began checking his vitals and performing CPR. Things were not looking good…

No pulse. No breathing. 

As I worked, a Hatzalah volunteer arrived at the scene and began working alongside me. 

“No pulse or breathing,” I reported to the station. “Send MICU urgently.” The Hatzalah volunteer and I continued working furiously. This guy doesn’t have much of a chance, I thought. Who knows how long he’s been lying like this, in this condition.
But I’m used to leaving my thoughts for my own pillow… for when I try to fall asleep at night. Right now, I had to focus on what I needed to do – and do it. 

The ambulance arrived and with it, more advanced equipment. The full team and I continued to do our best, but…nothing. The guy wouldn’t wake up. 

The team gave up, but I refused to. I continued to put in every bit of strength I could muster, without thinking. 

Yair, a fellow paramedic, placed his hand on my shoulder. His eyes were telling me, Forget it, this is a lost cause.

But I kept going. 

The other guys knew me already. They weren’t going to try explaining to me for the umpteenth time that I was too naïve.
I pushed. I pushed again.

And then suddenly I felt something change.
I checked carefully and began screaming like a madman, “There’s a pulse! There’s a pulse!”

The paramedics looked at the patient and immediately realized that I was right. They all began working feverishly again. 

Somehow, they managed to stabilize him and rushed him to the nearest hospital together with his tearful wife.

Honestly, I was very emotional as I watched them go. I’ve been in this field for years, but it is still rare to succeed in performing a successful resuscitation -  especially in such a case, where the man had been lying unconscious for so long.

I gathered my things and headed back home.

A month passed, and I nearly forgot the incident. One morning, my phone rang. 

“Hi, is this Shmuly, from MADA?”

“Yes, who am I speaking with?”

The young man on the other end of the line told me that he was this elderly man’s grandson. My thoughts went back to that fateful night, and I asked him with some hesitation, “How is he?” I wasn’t sure what I was going to hear. I knew that not many people survive after being deprived of oxygen for so long, and even those who do survive are generally badly crippled as a result. 

“You have no idea,” the grandson told me with obvious emotion. “You gave us our grandfather back!”

I was so moved that I could hardly get any words out of my mouth. 

The young man told me that they had been searching all week long for the phone number of the “angel who saved their grandfather” – that was how he described me. He told me that his grandfather had been discharged and is completely back to his usual self. “We would love to have you join us at the seudas hodaya that we are making in honor of this miracle!”

I could not refuse. I still remembered the address, so I just asked him for the date and time. 

On the day of the seudah, I came to the house again. The apartment was filled with family members and tables laden with cakes and candy. 

They all welcomed me with hugs and joyful greetings. I have never met these people before, but it seemed that to them I was like family. I was given a seat at the head of the table, next to a dignified-looking man with a white beard.

His face looked familiar…but now I was seeing his face with a healthy coloring.

When he saw me, he stood up and enveloped me in a warm hug. I felt his tears wetting my shoulder, and then my own tears coursing down my cheeks.

He murmured words of thanks, and it was obvious that he was very, very emotional. 
I myself was feeling my own storm of emotions – and not only because of the opportunity I had been given to save another man’s life. 

With shocking clarity, I suddenly realized that this man who was now looking at me with such gratitude-filled eyes was none other than my childhood teacher, Rabbi Substitute. It must have been his voice that made all the memories surface, but I had no doubt about it. I gently asked him about his life and where he was from. Yes, it was him…

He did not seem to recognize me, but that was understandable. Unlike him, my own appearance had changed drastically since I was ten years old… 

I was difficult for me to contain myself. I felt an unexplainable urge to tell him who I was.

I asked one of his sons, who was sitting next to me, to allow me to speak to his father privately. He looked at me in surprise, but apparently, my status as the “savior” helped ward off questions. He stood up and whispered into his father’s ear. 

I saw Rabbi Substitute’s eyes looking at me, and then his head nodding in agreement.
We were led to a side room. After we both settled on the day bed in the room and the door closed behind us, I burst into uncontrollable tears.

I had planned to talk to him, but the wave of emotions was stronger than me. I myself had not realized, until that moment, just how deeply he had hurt me. 

I felt his hands on my head, and then heard his soothing words trying to calm me. He obviously could not understand what was happening to me.

After I calmed down somewhat, I raised red-rimmed eyes and began to tell him who I was. It took a few moments for him to recall. “You’re Shmuly?” he pointed a shaking finger at me. I saw understanding dawn, and his face suddenly became very white. 

I felt a pang of panic. I had already seen his face looking like that. Slowly, however, his color returned. And then it was his turn to cry.

We did not exchange more than a few words, but to me it seemed like we had spent hours in deep conversation. 
We simply didn’t need any words. The tears said everything. The deep hurt…the frustration and the pain…the insidious effect of his behavior toward me in the classroom… and also, his regret, his remorse…

He hugged me again, and I returned the hug, feeling forgiveness wash over me. A huge rock was lifted from my chest.

“And I told you that you’ll amount to nothing,” he whispered, his voice filled with indescribable regret.

He asked for my forgiveness again and again, and I told him I was fully mochel. 

We walked back into the living room, both of us with red-rimmed eyes and blotchy faces. People looked at us in bewilderment. 
When Rabbi Substitute reached his seat, he motioned for me to sit on the adjacent chair, but he himself remained standing. He told everyone that he wanted to say a few words. Within seconds, everyone fell silent. It was clear that they all wanted to know what had happened.

Rabbi Substitute first began by praising me for saving his life. He especially emphasized the illogical efforts I had put in despite the fact that realistically, there was no longer any hope. He focused on the main point, in his opinion, which was that I worked against all odds and used my heart, not my head. 

Then he told everyone who I was and where we had first met. 

He told them everything. He repeated the words he had used then, at the fateful meeting with my parents, and the things he said about me in front of the entire class. At this point, people were crying unabashedly. In a broken voice he turned to me and asked for my forgiveness again. 

I could not speak. I only nodded my consent, my own throat choked with tears. 

Then, Rabbi Substitute ended in a heartfelt statement. “Twenty years ago, I told you that you do not use your head. Yet what saved me now was precisely the fact that you did not follow your head – but your heart. Years ago, I thought you had a problem and were not thinking enough. Now I know that what you have is actually a huge heart.”

He hugged me again, and I returned the hug.

That is my story. 

It was not easy for me to write it all. You must have realized by now that I am not the sort of person who can easily sit and write things down. But I did it anyway, because I want you to always remember:

There are some kids who have a great head.

There are kids who have a great heart.

And they are all Hashem’s children.

Competition

I want to share a great lesson on this week's parsha, Parshas Naso, with you.

When the second Nasi gave his korban, he could have given something nicer or better. But he chose to give the exact same korban as the Nasi before him-to make sure there would be no competition...which leads to jealousy and bad feelings. And all the other Nesi'im followed his lead and did the same.

The Torah is so careful with every letter and word yet it repeats the korban of each Nasi even though they were all the same! We learn from this how much Hashem values this middah and that we should try to emulate it in our own lives. 

Some things don't have to be shared with everyone. The second something happens in your life, does half the world need to hear about it on Facebook or Twitter? How much about your personal life should be shared on Instagram or on Snapchat? Can you find a way to use any of these to spread positivity, to share things people will remember because of the impact it leaves? People don't really care what you had for breakfast. Sharing pictures of your latest vacation may cause feelings of jealousy and competition. 

Just because you have more doesn't mean you need to show it off. Hashem blessed you with looks? Brains? If you did well on an exam, does everyone have to know about it? If you can afford to shop for things that are more expensive, do you need to tell everyone just how much you spent on your does, clothing or accessories? There's a certain measure of humility it takes to keep that inside and thank Hashem that you can pay for these things.

And...there is tremendous value to lowering your standards so others wont feel the need to keep up. You can afford more? You can make a bigger simcha? There are plenty of others who can't. There are plenty of families who are struggling. If you keep it simple, you are setting a standard that other people may be able to keep to. They will respect you more. It's not money that earns real respect, it's character. 

I read a story a while back that inspired me so much and I want to share it with you. The organization Adopt A Kollel got an unusual donation amount every month. It wasn't the typical $36, $180 or $360. It was an odd number with dollars and cents. Something like $147.63. They called the donor to ask him what the reason behind this donation was and this was his answer. He explained that he was going to lease a more expensive model car but when he thought about the struggling families in Eretz Yisroel, he decided to forgo the nicer car and lease a cheaper one instead. And he sent the difference between the car he originally wanted and the car he chose to this organization...down to the last penny...every single month. What a donation! 

This man chose to lower his standards and use the extra money to help families in Eretz Yisroel who really need it. What a powerful message!

May you be able to take a lesson from this week's parsha and apply it to your own life by keeping some things to yourself or just sharing with close friends and family, not showing off the good you have, and lowering the bar so there's less pressure for those around you to keep up.

Have a good shabbos!

Small Deed. Big Person

HaRav Chaim Ozer Grodzinsky Zatzal, Rav of Vilna, Raban Shel Yisroel.(1863-1940)

A man stopped HaRav Caim Ozer Grodzinsky Zatzal, the Rav of Vilna and the Gadol and Posek Hador in the pre-WWII era, to ask for directions how to get to his destination.

This man was stuttering, so Rav Chaim Ozer not only gave him directions but also walked him all the way to his destination.

The students asked why? R Chaim Ozer answered "If I didn't take him there he might have needed to ask direction again and then he might get embarrassed."

SMALL DEED. BIG PERSON.

So as not to Embarrass...

I posted this a while back. The message and lesson you can take from it is so, so important.

I got this email a while ago and I think this story really teaches us an important lesson in how to treat other people.

By: Rabbi Pesach J. Krohn
At a recent Sheva Berachos party for a newly married couple held at the Mir Yeshiva in Jerusalem, a groom told a story that astounded the guests.

The young man had a stellar reputation as one who always did the right thing; hence his tale of something that happened in his youth was startling. His interpretation of what transpired made the evening memorable.

In his talk, the groom thanked the family that hosted the Sheva Berachos, and spoke glowingly of his parents and his bride's family. He spoke about the significance and responsibility of marriage, sprinkling his words with biblical verses and teachings of the Sages. Finally he said he wished to speak of "a turning point" in his life.

It happened when he was in fifth grade. A classmate, Naftali, came in one day showing everyone an expensive new watch he had just received as a gift. His mother had warned him not to take the watch to school lest it get lost or broken, but he disobeyed. He wanted to show the fancy new watch to his friends and classmates. At recess, with everyone running out to play ball, the boy took off his watch, and left it on his desk, so there would be no risk of scratching or breaking it during recess.

When he returned to class after recess, the watch was gone! He let out a hysterical shriek. How could he come home without the watch? His parents would punish him severely. There was no consoling the boy as he cried, begging his rebbi (spiritual mentor) to help him find the watch.

The rebbi , who had been standing in the hallway for most of recess, was quite sure that no one had entered the classroom since recess began, neither the custodian nor boys from another class. His instincts told him that it was a boy in his own class who had probably taken it on the way out or in from the playground.

The rebbi got everyone's attention and said, "I know that it may have been tempting for someone to take Naftali's watch. We all saw that it was very beautiful and quite expensive. However, we must get the watch back to him. Did anyone here take it by mistake? And if yes, would you like to return it?"

No one stirred as the boys nervously glanced around to see if anyone was admitting anything. The rebbi waited a few moments and said, "I guess I have no choice. I am going to ask all of you to stand up front, facing the wall and I am going to go through your pockets to see if it's there. But I am giving you one more chance to admit that you may have taken it by mistake. Look, it can happen. Someone just wanted to admire the watch so he may have picked it up and then inadvertently put it into his pocket."

Again no one said a thing. The rebbi called up the boys and asked them to stand against the wall and not to turn around even for a moment until he gave them permission. The groom's face turned red as he explained what happened next.
"I was the third boy in line. Once everyone was in place he started going through the pockets of every boy, and he found the watch in mine. I had been hoping against hope that he wouldn't find it, as I planned to return it to Naftali after school. However, now the rebbi had the culprit. I was shaking as I waited for him to shout at me, or express glee that he found it.

"Instead he continued checking every single boy! When he finished searching the last boy, he said, 'You all can go back to your seats. I have the watch.'

"As I walked back to my seat I had to hold myself back from crying. I understood what the rebbi did and how he saved me from being embarrassed. He had continued the search so no one could figure out who had taken the watch. As we sat down he didn't even look my way so no one could possibly have any inkling who the guilty party was. He resumed teaching. I decided then and there that someday I would like to be like him."

...

The groom, a rabbinical student in one of the world's most prominent institutions of higher Jewish learning, indeed became a wonderful person because his spiritual mentor protected his dignity and afforded him honor back in the fifth grade. With that gesture, the rebbi laid the foundation for the validation of a student in a new generation so that he eventually would do the same for his children and disciples.

Rabbi Paysach J. Krohn is a world famous inspirational lecturer and author of, among others, the just released In the Spirit of the Maggid: Inspirational stories that touch the heart and stir the spirit, from where this story was adapted.

I think this is so amazing! We see how careful we have to be with other peoples feelings! Just because someone did something wrong, that does not give you an excuse to yell at them, accuse them in public or embarrass them. Here you see a shining example of a rebbe who, instead of hurting his student's feelings was ultra careful!

I think that a very important thing when giving mussar to someone who did something wrong is not to speak to them in public! The shabbos table is not the right time/place to tell your kids that they did something wrong. If someone in the family needs to be spoken to about something they did, it should be done in private, in another room, away from all the siblings...this way, at least they have their dignity!

Right now, b"h, I am not in that stage, so it is easy for me to talk. B"h, Shalom Baruch doesn't know how to upset me much (besides for when he wakes up at 3, 4 and 5 o'clock in the morning or like yesterday when every single diaper of his was dirty - ok, I wasn't upset, just frustrated!). But I do hope that when he does grow up and I have something to tell him about his behavior or something he (or his siblings iy"h) did that upset me [me? get angry?! NO WAY! lol] , I remember this important lesson: Don't embarrass your child in front of other children! If you need to speak to them about something they did, take them into another room and...speak calmly!

I left this last part in this post because it's the way it was originally written but let me just tell you, kids can do a lot to test your patience. This lesson is so important. When a child does something wrong, it is bad enough that they got you upset. They know they upset you. They don't need you to yell at them or embarrass them in front of the rest of their family. Take them to another room...it makes such a difference!

Mistakes

The following two questions were submitted anonymously using the form on the right.

Q: How is a person supposed to deal with embarrassment with a mistake that person makes but cant stop and is constantly getting embarrassed by what they did every time that person mentions it or brings it up?

A: I'll repeat it the way I remember hearing from someone I look up to and respect. People tend to think that mistakes are a bad thing. But that's not true. Mistakes are only bad if you don't learn from them. Mistakes are actually good - if you take a lesson from whatever you did and use it to change or grow in the future or to make sure that specific situation doesn't happen again.

For example, if you were trying to bake a cake while you were on the phone with a friend and you skipped out one ingredient, you may not be happy with the results of that cake because your forgot to put in the sugar (!) but this was a mistake that you will make sure not to repeat. If you learn from this experience and decide not to talk on the phone again when you are baking because it disturbs your concentration and then your cake wont come out good, then that mistake is a good thing! You took a lesson from it and from now on, your cakes will come out delicious because you will be able to focus on what you are doing without getting distracted!

The first thing you need to do is see if you can take a practical lesson from whatever happened and make sure you can do something to be more careful in the future.

If a friend or family member keeps reminding you about the incident and that makes you embarrassed, try to talk it over with her. Tell her straight out: it makes me uncomfortable when you constantly bring up that mistake I made. I know I should have been more careful and I botched up the cake and we didn't have dessert for shabbos but next time I will make sure I am not distracted by other things and then it will work out perfectly!

It is very important to be able to communicate openly about how you feel about certain things to those who are close to you so that they do not hurt your feelings by reminding you about past mistakes.

I know the example I gave is a petty one but I hope you can apply it to the mistake you made and work it out in a way that makes both you and the one who reminds you about it happy at the end of the conversation.

If the mistake you made is something wrong morally, ethically or is a bad deed - an aveira, you need to go one step further. You will need to do teshuva - verbalize the aveira, sincerely feel bad about what you did, and take upon yourself to work on that action so that you don't do it again. Chaya Sara wrote a great post a while back called how to do teshuva.

And don't think teshuva is only for Elul, it can and should be done as close as possible to the time the aveira was done - this way you are showing Hashem that you really feel bad about what you did and you sincerely want to change for the better! And then when Elul comes around, you'll have less things to fix!

* * *

Q: How should we react when we find out that a parent made big mistakes?

A: Know that parents are also human beings. All people make mistakes. It says that there is no such thing as a person who never erred or who never sinned (I'm not sure about the exact wording but it's something like Ein tzaddik ba'aretz asher ya'aseh tov v'lo yecheteh.)
Your parents are normal - and just like everyone else in the world they made a mistake.

Depending on what happened next and the effect of their mistake, you may want to find a way to speak to them respectfully about it or get someone to be a go-between to help find a way to fix it.

I don't know what you mean by big mistakes so I can't say much more.

The only thing I have to add is that whatever the thing is that your parent did that looks wrong in your eyes should not diminish your respect for them. You may not know their full thought process behind what they did, they may have expected different results based on the decision they made, but know that parents always want to do whatever is best for their children - and THAT is enough of a reason to continue to love and respect them.
Their emotions may get in the way of their decisions, they may have done something you view as wrong but you cannot know everything they were thinking when they did whatever they did.

Continue appreciating all the good things your parents do for you and most importantly, remember that they are human beings too and you cannot expect perfection from anyone.

I hope this helps both of you. I would really appreciate if the person/people who asked these two questions would comment and let me know if this helped you and if you still have any thoughts or questions about what I wrote.

So as not to Embarrass...

I got this email a while ago and I think this story really teaches us an important lesson in how to treat other people.

By: Rabbi Pesach J. Krohn
At a recent Sheva Berachos party for a newly married couple held at the Mir Yeshiva in Jerusalem, a groom told a story that astounded the guests.

The young man had a stellar reputation as one who always did the right thing; hence his tale of something that happened in his youth was startling. His interpretation of what transpired made the evening memorable.

In his talk, the groom thanked the family that hosted the Sheva Berachos, and spoke glowingly of his parents and his bride's family. He spoke about the significance and responsibility of marriage, sprinkling his words with biblical verses and teachings of the Sages. Finally he said he wished to speak of "a turning point" in his life.

It happened when he was in fifth grade. A classmate, Naftali, came in one day showing everyone an expensive new watch he had just received as a gift. His mother had warned him not to take the watch to school lest it get lost or broken, but he disobeyed. He wanted to show the fancy new watch to his friends and classmates. At recess, with everyone running out to play ball, the boy took off his watch, and left it on his desk, so there would be no risk of scratching or breaking it during recess.

When he returned to class after recess, the watch was gone! He let out a hysterical shriek. How could he come home without the watch? His parents would punish him severely. There was no consoling the boy as he cried, begging his rebbi (spiritual mentor) to help him find the watch.

The rebbi , who had been standing in the hallway for most of recess, was quite sure that no one had entered the classroom since recess began, neither the custodian nor boys from another class. His instincts told him that it was a boy in his own class who had probably taken it on the way out or in from the playground.

The rebbi got everyone's attention and said, "I know that it may have been tempting for someone to take Naftali's watch. We all saw that it was very beautiful and quite expensive. However, we must get the watch back to him. Did anyone here take it by mistake? And if yes, would you like to return it?"

No one stirred as the boys nervously glanced around to see if anyone was admitting anything. The rebbi waited a few moments and said, "I guess I have no choice. I am going to ask all of you to stand up front, facing the wall and I am going to go through your pockets to see if it's there. But I am giving you one more chance to admit that you may have taken it by mistake. Look, it can happen. Someone just wanted to admire the watch so he may have picked it up and then inadvertently put it into his pocket."

Again no one said a thing. The rebbi called up the boys and asked them to stand against the wall and not to turn around even for a moment until he gave them permission. The groom's face turned red as he explained what happened next.
"I was the third boy in line. Once everyone was in place he started going through the pockets of every boy, and he found the watch in mine. I had been hoping against hope that he wouldn't find it, as I planned to return it to Naftali after school. However, now the rebbi had the culprit. I was shaking as I waited for him to shout at me, or express glee that he found it.

"Instead he continued checking every single boy! When he finished searching the last boy, he said, 'You all can go back to your seats. I have the watch.'

"As I walked back to my seat I had to hold myself back from crying. I understood what the rebbi did and how he saved me from being embarrassed. He had continued the search so no one could figure out who had taken the watch. As we sat down he didn't even look my way so no one could possibly have any inkling who the guilty party was. He resumed teaching. I decided then and there that someday I would like to be like him."

...

The groom, a rabbinical student in one of the world's most prominent institutions of higher Jewish learning, indeed became a wonderful person because his spiritual mentor protected his dignity and afforded him honor back in the fifth grade. With that gesture, the rebbi laid the foundation for the validation of a student in a new generation so that he eventually would do the same for his children and disciples.

Rabbi Paysach J. Krohn is a world famous inspirational lecturer and author of, among others, the just released In the Spirit of the Maggid: Inspirational stories that touch the heart and stir the spirit, from where this story was adapted.

I think this is so amazing! We see how careful we have to be with other peoples feelings! Just because someone did something wrong, that does not give you an excuse to yell at them, accuse them in public or embarrass them. Here you see a shining example of a rebbe who, instead of hurting his student's feelings was ultra careful!

I think that a very important thing when giving mussar to someone who did something wrong is not to speak to them in public! The shabbos table is not the right time/place to tell your kids that they did something wrong. If someone in the family needs to be spoken to about something they did, it should be done in private, in another room, away from all the siblings...this way, at least they have their dignity!

Right now, b"h, I am not in that stage, so it is easy for me to talk. B"h, Shalom Baruch doesn't know how to upset me much (besides for when he wakes up at 3, 4 and 5 o'clock in the morning or like yesterday when every single diaper of his was dirty - ok, I wasn't upset, just frustrated!). But I do hope that when he does grow up and I have something to tell him about his behavior or something he (or his siblings iy"h) did that upset me [me? get angry?! NO WAY! lol] , I remember this important lesson: Don't embarrass your children in front of other children! If you need to speak to them about something they did, take them into another room and...speak calmly!