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10 Cheshvan 5761 - November 8, 2000 | Mordecai Plaut, director Published Weekly
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Home and Family
Big Time
by Bruchie Laufer

"How long does it take you to make a pair of tefillin?" asked Uncle Mark.

Uncle Mark had come to Israel for a few days and wanted to take home the tefillin for his first grandchild's bar mitzva. He was irritated by the fact that they weren't ready yet. They had been ordered months ago and according to his calculations, should have been sent to America already. The bar mitzva would be held in a very upper class hotel in four months time.

"A good year," answered Shloima solemnly.

Shloima had become a batim-macher to supplement a kollel income for his large family and his uncles and cousins ordered their tefillin from him.

"What do you mean by `a good year'? That's a very yeshivishe answer!" They were seated on a comfortable sofa in the lobby of the Ramada hotel where Uncle Mark was staying.

"If you want to make more money, you should come up with a way to make them faster. There must be a more efficient way to produce battim. Maybe on assembly line or something."

"There are many halochos involved in the production of batim. They are mostly hand-made and the process takes a long time. Your son Moishe only ordered them six months ago. As is, I'll have to give you a pair which I had started a while ago for someone else. He has time to wait."

"Why do you do it all by hand?" Uncle Mark didn't see why, with all those modern inventions, there shouldn't be a machine which made batim as well. Shloima tried to calm his uncle. "Moishe wanted the most mehudar and these are done by hand. Besides, he wanted a sofer whom I trust to write the parshiyos. Hopefully, your grandson will have the best quality tefillin."

Shloima could almost hear his uncle's thoughts. Past occasions had shown their usual trend. "What a shlemiel that Shloima is. `A good year,' he says! That's no way to make money."

"I have an idea for you, Shloima," he said out loud. "You could learn from me. I was in electronics and I offered the suppliers more and faster for less. If an order usually took six months to come through, I'd promise them I could produce it in three. This made them want to order from me. I worked very hard." Uncle Mark took a sip from his diet Cola, avoiding the twisted lemon slice, and continued expounding his theory on how to make big money.

"I flew to Hong Kong, got a hold of the current design and built a mold. Then I hopped over to Mexico, where labor was cheap, and had the molds poured. While they were making the outer shell, I flew to Japan and bought the inner workings. When both were ready, I had them assembled in Puerto Rico."

A self satisfied Uncle Mark leaned back and gazed at his nephew. He had been in the camps and after the war, had started out as a delivery boy,working his way up until he became a rich man. Now he expected everyone else to be able to do the same; certainly to respect and desire to emulate him.

No amount of explanation succeeded in convincing Uncle Mark that decent batim could not possibly be made any faster.

"What about the parshiyos? How long does it take to write them?"

"About a week."

"What if you hired the sofer to write exclusively for you?"

"It would cost me too much and I'd have to market what he writes."

"O.K. Do it your way, then."

Uncle Mark had clearly knocked the wind out of Shloime. All year long, when members of the family were peacefully ensconced in their respective luxurious homes in various locations around the world, he felt competant, content and very spiritually fulfilled. But each year, when the Yomim Tovim came along and relatives came to Israel to visit, Shloima had to defend his simple lifestyle and low income. The accusation that he was not industrious enough was not explicitly stated, though implied often enough. No one took into account the many long hours he spent each day learning in kollel.

After reassuring Uncle Mark for the umpteenth time that the tefillin would be be ready on time, Shloima left the hotel and rushed off to put the finishing touches on the by now, famous pair of batim.

Once he entered his small machsan-workshop, he forgot about rich uncles and cousins and worked assiduously on his life's calling. Carefully concentrating on the work at hand, he pronounced a fervent "Lesheim kedushas tefillin", over and over. He shook off the fetters of the stopwatch mentality and deadlines and let his soul connect to this piece of leather which attested to timeless eternity. The battim were perfectly shaped through hours and hours of devoted patience. There weren't many laymen who could appreciate the precision, craftsmanship and devotion which each pair represented. This was important to Shloima, however; big time for him. Above and beyond Time.

*

Uncle Mark also left the hotel. He headed for shul, hoping to catch a minyan. Sure enough, he had a lot of catching up to do, but that didn't deter him from joining the people already there.

"Sholom aleichem, Mendel! How are you? Good to see you here again! Your grandson should be bar mitzva soon, no? I know what brings you here. You must have ordered the tefillin from R' Shloima. They say you can't find a more professional man." R' Itzik's warm welcome and jovial expression at seeing a long time friend mirrored Mendel's -- or Mark's -- feelings exactly. It was one of the things he looked forward to when visiting Israel. Meeting a landsleit from a bygone era, both Holocaust survivors.

"Yes, and as a matter of fact, he happens to be my nephew. They say he's the top man in the field and for us, only the best will do." Uncle Mark basked in a newfound pride in Shloima, who had earned an excellent reputation, he had to admit. In a confiding tone, he went on to explain, "These are the most expensive ones on the market, you know. All painstakingly hand made, the parshiyos written by a sofer who is a genuine tzaddik, yerei shomayim. Why, you have to order these a year in advance if you want them for your bar mitzva!"

Uncle Mark, with his super developed business acumen, knew how to impress different people and what to say to whom. Here in Israel, they appreciated different kind of things than the congregants back in his shul in America. But he couldn't help adding, in a voice full of pride, how his son, the bar mitzva boy's father, had hired the top man to ghost write the speech and teach him the art of delivery.

*

Uncle and nephew met again. This time, it was the non- assuming Shloima who was the center of attention. The family had gathered to celebrate the yahrzeit of their grandfather. Everyone knew that Shloima could be counted on to prepare an impressive siyum drosha in honor of the deceased. The affluent relatives crowded around him, congratulated him with pride and appreciation, and expressed their gratitude that the family had such a member to do them credit. What a merit for the deceased. What nachas he must be having from this talmid chochom. This was power. Big Time.

 

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