There is an old expression, "If a poor man eats a chicken,
you know that one of them was sick." In the same vein, when
someone talks to a friend about an issue that is troubling
the speaker, you know that at least one of them needs
strengthening in this matter.
A woman may be talking to a kindred soul who also appreciates
the seriousness of a particular problem such as tznius
or shmiras haloshon, or perhaps she is trying to
generate more involvement in a vital community project. By
talking it out, the speaker will crystallize her thoughts and
also get feedback. Both of these will strengthen the
speaker.
On the other hand, this same woman may sit down with a
neighbor who is not aware of a problem — or not aware
that she, the listener, is somehow deficient in this area
— and seek to convince her to take the issue to heart
and mend her ways. If the subject is approached in a tactful
and friendly manner, the neighbor may come around to the
speaker's side. This will strengthen the listener.
However, there is a problem with this system. Often, the
listener does not know if s(he) is being approached as an
ally of the speaker or as a person in need of change.
Rabbi Zev Leff says that congregation rabbis in the States
frequently finish a strong sermon aimed squarely at one group
of people in the shul. At the end of the talk, the
rabbi will be approached by one of the congregants most in
need of the rebuke. What does this individual say? "Boy,
Rabbi, you really told them!"
Do you remember when the whole sheitel issue came into
the public eye? There were women who had always worn the most
modest of wigs, 100% synthetic and just the right length, who
decided that the message was meant specifically for them.
They took off their sheitels, brought them straight to
the bonfire, and have been wearing snoods or turbans ever
since.
On the other hand, there were women whose long, flowing human
hair wigs were far more attractive and eye-catching than
anything that could possibly have grown out of their scalps.
Some of these ladies quickly got hold of a list of the wigs
that didn't contain Indian hair, saw their manufacturer's
name, breathed a sigh of relief, and are still to this day
wearing their problematic not-so-modest headcoverings.
Here's another example. Someone goes out and hangs up posters
all over the neighborhood asking people not to litter. A busy
young mother will be walking down the street pushing a double
stroller containing a baby and a toddler, leading three other
children. All except the infant are eating ice pops.
The ice pops all came with wrappers. However, none are to be
seen on the pops. There wasn't a garbage container anywhere
along the path this group has taken from the grocery store to
their home. Where are the wrappers? The ones that haven't
blown into the street are still on the sidewalk, exactly
where they were dropped.
One of the children stops and points at a still-wet, newly
affixed anti-litter poster. "Ima, what does this say?" he
innocently asks. "Oh, nothing," replies his mother.
At the other end of the street, a senior citizen is walking
along and notices a little white string resting on his coat
sleeve. He automatically brushes it off. Then he sees the
anti-litter poster, turns beet-red, bends down to get the
string and takes it straight to the nearest garbage bin.
We started out with one old expression. There is another one
that goes, "If the shoe fits, wear it." That is well and
good. But sometimes we avoid an issue because we aren't sure
of the fit, and other times we end up wearing something
simply because we think it fits.
Here is a situation that is somewhat sticky and a bit
complicated. A woman you haven't spoken to in months, if not
years, calls up and tells you, "I am calling all of my
friends who have boys to see if anyone knows a
shidduch for my Tzippy. Tzippy is a wonderful girl.
She graduated from the best seminary, excelled in all her
classes and has a great job."
The proud mother continues, "Tzippy just loves children and
she was the most popular babysitter in the neighborhood all
the way through high school. She speaks four languages, plays
three musical instruments and is involved in too many
chessed projects to count. She is only 19 but she is
so mature that we are sure she is ready for
shidduchim. And of course you remember how pretty
Tzippy is. Do me a favor and ask around to see if you know
anyone."
At this point, you really don't know if your long-lost
friend, Tzippy's mother, is calling you as she stated because
you "have boys" and may therefore know someone, or if she is
calling because, wonder of wonders, one of your "boys" just
turned 21, and is now eligible.
You tell her you will keep Tzippy in mind and wish her good
luck in finding her daughter's bashert. You will
probably never know what really motivated the call unless of
course you decide that Tzippy is for your son. You ask
someone to set up the shidduch and at the engagement,
your friend confides that everything went exactly as
planned.
Here's another case. You open your mailbox and there is an ad
for a seminar on home management techniques. "Now is your
chance to get organized," screams the banner headline of the
ad. As you are reading it, you are shaking your head. "No,"
you tell yourself, "you don't need this class—-you
aren't disorganized. You are just too creative a person to
keep everything in drawers and closets."
You keep up the mental monologue, "You're the kind of person
who expresses herself by having lots of projects going. This
isn't clutter. You are just the kind of person who keeps all
of the things you need for your projects right where they
will be handy." But even while you are telling yourself all
of this, you are visualizing your cluttered living room and
wincing a little.
As you finish reading the ad, you hear the phone ringing. It
takes six rings for you to find the phone. Six rings is
better than usual. And that is only because you were smart
enough to turn the ringer to the highest position. That way,
you were able to trace the loud noise to the handset which
was under the open magazine which was itself under the
chair.
It is your best friend. "Did you see the ad for the great
class they are having in home management? I can't wait to go.
I've always wanted to get organized," she enthuses. "I'm
going to call up right now and make a reservation. Do you
want to go? I can save you a call and reserve a place for you
too."
This is one time when you stop fooling yourself and say,
"Yes, of course. Count me in." If the shoe fits, wear it.
