Rebbetzin Leah Gans
Last time, we spoke about the great power of words that the Almighty has given us. We focused more on sur mera (“turn away from evil”), but there is also aseh tov (“do good”). We explored how using speech for evil can spoil our prayers, hurt our loved ones, spread negative things about another person, and harm them.
Now we will turn to aseh tov and consider which mitzvot we can fulfill through the power of words.
For every power that the Almighty creates “for evil,” He creates a power for good that is far stronger. We have spoken about the destructive nature of evil, but the creative power of goodness is much greater.
The book ‘Ahavat Chesed’ by Rav Yisrael Meir HaKohen (the Chafetz Chaim) describes many ways to do good deeds. In principle, we all know how this is done, but this book contains many details about such things as tzedakah and lending money: how much, to whom, how… Among other chapters, there is one on chesed be-dibbur, “words of kindness.”
So, what good deeds can we perform with our mouths?
The wilderness generation, who received their sustenance, manna, directly from heaven, wondered how they could do good deeds in such a situation. There are no poor or rich people, no one who lacks the means to live. If everyone receives exactly as much as their family needs, everyone has enough, and no one is in need—is that it, with no opportunity to do a good deed?
The answer is that the rich (those who had been wealthy in Egypt) knew the taste of delicacies available only to people of means—goose liver, for example. But a poor person knew only his usual food: bread and onions. We know that manna changed its taste according to the eater's “order.” So the good deed a “rich person” could do for a “poor person” was to tell him what delicious dishes existed in the world, so that he could “order” something other than bread and vegetables.
They looked for opportunities—and found them. What about us?
My mother had a friend who lost her husband after a prolonged illness and then fell into depression. She was in a terrible state. Her eyes and ears had “shut down”—that is, they were functioning poorly—and she could barely see or hear. She also spent almost all her time in bed and did not want to take care of herself. Nothing interested her. But she had good children who tried to take her places, get her out, bring her joy, and encourage her. Nothing helped, though—she could not emerge from this severe crisis. Then someone had the idea of telling her that she was very much needed at an organization that helped seriously ill patients in hospitals.
At first, it seemed like an absurd idea: how could someone so miserable and exhausted help anyone at all?!
But whoever came up with the idea was apparently a genius, because as soon as she went there, everything changed. At first, others drove her there because she had no strength, but later she found strength, a desire to give, and the ability to help. She came back to herself when she felt that she was needed and could be useful. This gave her strength. She spent many hours trying to help patients who were often depressed themselves. After all, she knew how to help, what specifically she could do, and how to offer support. In the course of her volunteer work, she did not notice how she herself had changed, emerged from her own depressed state and her mourning for her husband, and returned to life.
When a person supports others, they help themselves far more.
For someone who gives to others and puts their energy into doing so, all of life looks different. They feel needed. They take care of themselves so they can help others.
We mothers are constantly engaged in helping those around us: our husbands, our children. But even someone who is alone—a woman whose children have all grown up and flown the nest—can be very much needed and find people who need her help.
to be continued
Prepared by Mrs. Zissi Skarzhinskaya