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12 Av 5761 - August 1, 2001 | Mordecai Plaut, director Published Weekly
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Opinion & Comment
Like the Days of Heaven upon Earth

by Yochanan David

As I was walking along, I noticed a group of curious bystanders huddling around the guy who pastes up public notices on sidewalk billboards. Like most curious Jews, I stopped to wait and see the contents of the large notice which was rolled up under one arm while the other was vigorously brushing paste on the wet vertical surface. He spread the sheet open and slapped it onto the billboard, smoothing it over once or twice with his brush and continued on his way.

It was a notice of mourning with a black border. The name of the deceased stood out starkly in big letters centered upon the notice: Efraim Himmel. Not knowing anyone by that name, it meant nothing to me. Mumbling a casual "Boruch dayan ho'emes," I was about to go on my way, when I overheard a man next to me sighing, "Oy, oy, oy! What a pity! They don't make people like that any more. A loss for anyone who didn't have the privilege of knowing him."

He spoke aloud and seemed to be addressing no one or everyone in particular, that is, those standing in his radius. The person on his left reacted immediately, "You knew him? What was so special about him?"

Before answering, he turned around to face all the bystanders, including myself, and addressed us in a loud voice, "I'm telling you that this was a man in a thousand. I had the privilege of being a close neighbor of his for a certain period and I will never forget him or the things he said. I want to tell you a few short things about him, for his merit.

"He once came to my house to borrow something that he just ran short of. I told him that my wife was in the middle of sifting flour and that when she finished, we would send it over. `Tell her not to hurry,' he remarked. `She is involved in the holy task of supervising the purity of your souls.' When he noticed the puzzled look on my face, he added, `The Torah commands us to beware of eating insects and states: You shall not defile your souls. We sift flour to prevent the contamination of the soul through eating bugs that can be found in flour. So really, your wife is occupied now in the guarding of the purity of the souls of the family. This is holy work of the highest degree and demands great caution and concentration. It is a task that elevates its doer to a very high level of purity.'

"Ever since then, things have changed by us. We now use those words that describe the essence of our actions, and this lends a completely different character to each act. Checking rice, for example, is a tiring and tedious task. But if you call this chore by its correct name, `guarding the purity of the soul,' it takes on a different look and our relationship to it is completely different, more exalted and holier.

"One day I heard him explaining to his young son that one must wash one's face thoroughly in the morning since our face represents the divine image. We are given the very important responsibility of washing this divine image and keeping it clean and respectable looking. In olden times, the king would appoint a man whose sole job was to make sure that the statue bearing the king's likeness, which stood in the central city plaza, be kept clean and protected. His was considered an important, prestigious job, with a commensurate salary and status.

"This is the job that every Jew, every man, woman, and child, is expected to do each morning when he arises. They are appointed to keep the divine image clean and respectable looking at all times.

"His children, from an early age, washed their faces each morning with an accompanying sense of holiness, exaltation and mission. And I am certain that this had repercussions on their conduct throughout the day.

"Efraim, himself, of blessed memory, was once hospitalized for a surgical procedure. Early the following morning, he limped along the hospital corridor towards the dining room with his tallis bag tucked under his arm. The nurse on duty was alarmed to see him up and asked where he thought he was going! `I'm going to report to headquarters,' he replied most naturally, without hesitating. And that's the way he thought, that's the way he was. This exalted, celestial way of looking at things was not the product of extensive effort, an exercise in presentation. This is how he truly saw things, naturally.

"When he would hand out a candy to a child, or a fruit, he would hold onto it for a moment and say, `Let us first thank Hashem Who gave us this treat. Come, repeat after me: Boruch atoh . . .'

"On the few occasions that I happened to meet him going to the beach, he would explain simply that he was going to provide medical treatment to the holy security entrusted to his care: his body. Thus, in all simplicity, unaffectedly, naturally and sincerely. He uttered the words in full seriousness, without even a smile. Just like the owner of a car who says that he must go and wash his car or have the oil changed in the motor.

"We are all familiar with the despondent look of a father rushing off to the doctor before eight in the morning with a sick child. Sighing, he tells a passing neighbor about this hard luck: instead of going off to his regular routine, he's got to go to the clinic, take a number, await his turn and waste his precious time, on top of which his child kept him up half the night because of a high fever. He grumbles over his fate, his lost time, the waste of energy and so on. A punishment from heaven.

"The late Efraim found himself in this situation every once in a while, as is normal. But the experience was totally different for him. You saw before you a Jew occupied in the act of gemilus chessed, of helping someone in distress, of complying with the Torah commandment of `Love your neighbor as yourself.' If this was the mission assigned to him on this morning, he geared himself to carry it out willingly, eagerly, almost with joy. He didn't complain about his condition or express any rancor about his bad luck, but went about doing what had to be done in those circumstances in the best possible manner.

"You might think that Efraim saw himself as exalted above others, with a bit of pride or superiority. Far from it! His heart was exalted in its desire to serve Hashem, but his relationship towards others was the epitome of humility. Someone once asked him why he was called Efraim and he replied that it conjured up the word eifer, ashes, in its double form, that is, offor vo'eifer, dust and ashes. Indeed, a name like that and a commentary like that was a safeguard against haughtiness, and his attitude - - an endless source of happiness and fulfillment.

"He saw Hashem's lovingkindness in everything. He used to say: What is man, after all? Dust and ashes. In His infinite kindness, Hashem gives us the wonderful gift of living a heavenly life here on earth, in the very midst of the material-matter of this world. With a body of flesh and blood. Hashem gives us commandments that are uplifting and ennobling and sanctifying. They enable us to live a spiritual life here on earth. These commandments veritably stand on line; they wait in turn for us at every step we take and every corner we turn. All we need to do is remove the dust of materialism that covers our eyes and then we can see these commandments in their full glory of holiness, set before us, waiting to be taken, begging us to avail ourselves of the opportunities they offer. What good fortune! How wonderful is our lot!

"We are like that person who found himself in a valley of diamonds but who allowed himself to be deceived that it was a valley of broken glass impeding his way, and no more. Would that the dust be removed from our eyes so that we could see the marvelous sparkle, the scintillating light emitted by these precious gems upon which we tread, oblivious of their worth. It all depends on us and on how we look at them, he used to say.

"What shall I tell you," the man concluded his impromptu eulogy. "In praise of a skillful dancer, one can say that he succeeds in lifting off the ground. But he invariably falls back. Efraim, however, was a man who made the essence of all his actions come alive and have a higher meaning, always, throughout his life. He hovered somewhat above the ground -- at all times."


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