You dress more casually at home than you would outside. Your
general conduct is more relaxed and you are not too
particular about the minutiae of manners. You speak more
freely, and in general, do and say things which you would not
dream of doing outside your own home.
On the other hand, when you are amongst strangers, you are
particular about your appearance: the expression on your face
is pleasant; you are scrupulous in your behavior, and think
about the way you react or reply to others.
As soon as you leave the house, you modify your behavior to
suit the place where you are. You can't compare shopping at
the local grocers's, for instance, to an interview for a new
job. And when you go to a shiur, you will not behave
in the same way as you would at a simcha. Even at the
actual simcha, you will change your expression when
you notice the camera focused on you. The more important the
position or the impressions you are creating are to you, the
more effort you will put into the public image you wish to
project.
Sometimes you have time to prepare yourself before going out.
But occasionally, there comes a time when you have to change
to another behavior mode very rapidly. You achieve an amazing
transformation with great success. Two sides of the coin. For
example:
THE SAME GIRL?
Shoshy and her sister are arguing loudly about whose turn it
is to help. Her face is red with anger and she raises her
voice shrilly. Naava gives as good as she gets, and the
verbal abuse crescendos. The phone rings. "Shoshy, it's for
you," calls a disembodied voice. Shoshy takes the phone and
recognizes the voice of her friend, Penina. "How are you,
Penina?" She smiles as she speaks. "What can I do for you?"
she asks affably. Her voice is no longer shrill and her mood
has changed dramatically. "O.K., Penina, I'll be seeing you.
Have a good day."
No sooner does she put the receiver down than Shoshy returns
to the fray. "Why should I work in the kitchen instead of you
today?" (She forgets how kindly she offered unsolicited help
to Penina only two minutes ago.) The doorbell rings. It's
Batya, Naava's friend, who wants to ask her something.
Miraculously, Naava's expression changes as she speaks to her
friend with amazing courtesy. Once again, the minute Batya
has gone, all smiles and pleasantries disappear and the two
girls get down to "business as usual."
A bystander, seeing this sharp dramatic change, might want to
capture these two apparently opposite profiles.
A HOUSE OF CHESSED
They all sing Zippora's praises. They call her the baalas
chessed. People who know her, claim that she, on her own,
is a whole institution of chessed. At lunch time each
day, she offers her assistance at various hospitals, having
heard that they are short of volunteers at that time of
day.
Zippora is quick to invite any strangers in the district who
have nowhere to go. If she knows of a family making a
simcha and in need of lodging for the guests, Zippora
immediately makes one of the rooms in her small flat
available. If there is a young woman who has just had a baby
or someone sick in the area, perhaps an infirm pensioner, or
any lost soul... Zippora is on the scene. Heavy shopping bags
weigh her down as she returns from buying groceries for her
disabled neighbor. She seizes every opportunity to send
delicious cakes or sumptuous nourishing meals to the needy
(at the expense of the meager family budget). And when she
hears some compliment about her charitable deeds, she glows
with pride and determines to do even more.
Every day, Zippora's children wait on the stairs for their
mother. They are tired, hungry and thirsty. Occasionally, one
of the neighbors calls them in and gives them a snack or
drink. Often, they have to wait a long time for their mother,
who has been further delayed by some act of kindness which
came her way after the hospital stint.
When the children see one of the rooms clean and tidy, they
always guess that they will be having a guest. Mother
wouldn't do this just for the sake of cleaning! Meanwhile,
the dirty laundry and mountains of ironing accumulate in the
other room. The sinks are full of unwashed dishes and there
is no sign of a cooked meal, apart from what she has prepared
for her chessed cases. Her mother-in-law actually sent
her a cleaning lady, but Zippora promptly dispatched her to a
young neighbor, saying that her need was far greater.
*
What makes people act in this ambivalent way? When it comes
to improving ourselves, we claim the obstacles are too great
and we can't change. The baalei mussar claim that
every human can draw on enormous hidden strengths to overcome
his faults. He can change within a moment from one extreme to
another, from love to hate, from anger to happiness.
There is a well known story of the Alter of Slabodka who came
across a stormy scene between a vendor and a customer in the
marketplace. Neither was prepared to compromise. Just then,
another woman approached the stall. Immediately, the vendor's
face softened, as did her voice, while she turned to serve
the new customer.
It happened in a split second, although she was not at all
sure that the woman would buy anything. And even if she did
buy something, the seller would only be earning a few
coppers. If a slim chance of making a small sale could
transform this woman so drastically, surely an intelligent
person can call upon his inner strength to change himself for
the better. Man has unlimited powers, but he has to dredge
them up and he must be convinced that he stands to gain by
using them.
A woman took her daughter to an interview at a certain
seminary. During the interview, the daughter seemed rather
agitated and when they left, she burst into tears.
"What's the matter?" her mother asked in surprise. "I was
just amazed to hear myself described in such a positive
light," explained the girl. "I heard you tell the principal
how much I help you, and what splendid grades I had, and what
wonderful middos I possess. I thought my ears were
deceiving me because at home I hear the exact opposite ---
you never get any help from me; my report card indicates that
I could have done much better and you keep telling me that my
behavior shows what bad middos I have."
One of the gedolei Yisroel once wanted to reprimand a
certain well known philanthropist for neglecting his family.
He told him about a woman with seven young children in
desperate need of help; they were not coping. The kind-
hearted man asked to know the identity of the woman so that
he could assist her in some way. "It is your very own wife
who needs help," the Rov explained.
The main cause for this stems from the lack of knowledge. Our
Sages teach us that "the poor of your own town have
preference." Your relatives come before, and certainly so the
members of your own immediate family. The trouble is that
chessed done outside the house is more impressive.
Chessed done at home has an unjustified inferior
image.
The baalei Mussar often speak about the well known
trend of belittling the routine chessed done at home,
to the family, when you don't get thanks or a pat on the
back. A mother who cooks a daily meal for her children gets
no writeups in the papers, nor even a bouquet of flowers. But
perhaps she is doing an even greater chessed just
because of this and because she has little "job
satisfaction." There is no doubt, they say, that she is doing
a greater kindness by looking after her own family and that
her reward will be commensurably greater in the World to
Come.
We have heard of children who grew up in one of these
`"chessed institutions" expressing a bizarre wish. They want
to be either poor, or a visitor, or even sick, when they grow
up! The common denominator of all these is, of course, that
these people got their parents' attention, while the children
felt neglected and actually discriminated against!
Chazal caution us to be pious in private and public. A true
yerei shomayim will treat his nearest and dearest
(husband/wife children) with the same consideration and
respect which he shows to friends and acquaintances. It is a
difficult test. But if a person can only do chessed
outside the house and presents a different face at home, it
shows that his chessed is a facade, fake. I am not
preaching chessed in the home to the exclusion of any
outside good deeds. On the contrary, when a person is truly
kind in the home, it spills over to outsiders. Particularly
the one whose chessed-in-the-home is constant, and who
may not be in the least appreciated, will get many
opportunities to do chessed to outsiders.
We all know people who are praised to the skies for their
good deeds and for their availability whenever they are
needed to help anywhere. Are they as obliging at home? Or are
they like the proverbial cobbler whose children go barefoot?
For instance, a teacher who is every principal's dream, the
one who does far more, even in her own time, than she
actually needs to do. She cheerfully attends all staff
meetings outside school hours, is on call for extra
substitute teaching at a moment's notice, etc. She never says
`No.' The question is: at whose expense is this enthusiasm
and devotion? Does she never say `No' at home when her
children need her help? Does she show the same zeal to look
after the family "beyond the call of duty?"
The point which the Alter of Slobodka made when he spoke of
the market woman's sudden transformation just for the slim
chance of earning a few kopeks, was that we can all earn far
more than "a few kopeks." We should exert ourselves to the
utmost to put on this same pleasant face and tone of voice at
home, as we would when we want to create a good
impression.
He makes two important points:
Firstly, that we can certainly change, and put on a wonderful
performance at home. Secondly, if people can change for such
a small gain, they can certainly change in the expectation of
much greater gain.
If we calculate the benefits of good family relationships
both inside the house and for our children's future, we will
realize that truly "charity begins at home." We will invest
time and effort, first and foremost, to make our own home a
happy, pleasant place.
