Basya Tsybukmakher
This year’s Hanukkah project for girls turned out to be especially interesting. The participants eagerly awaited each new day and what their teachers had prepared for them: a doughnut evening and a tour of the Old City, where beautiful Hanukkah menorahs glowed in every window.
But the most exciting part was still ahead: a gala concert featuring performances by all the participating teams. Filled with joyful anticipation, this talent competition kept all the girls on their toes and inspired them to come up with more and more ideas for showcasing their talents to the fullest.
Every team did its utmost not only to win, but also to give the audience the very best, most beautiful, and most dazzling performance!
“Our team has every chance of winning!” said Bracha, taking the stairs two at a time, so that Itty could barely keep up with her. “We have Miri, who draws amazingly well, and Batya, who has the most beautiful voice!” “Yes!” Itty chimed in just as joyfully, catching up with her friend. “And you’ve forgotten Esti and Shuli—they always come up with something original! We’re a super team of winners!”
The celebration marking the completion of a tractate, mesibat siyum, was in full swing. The small hall was packed to capacity with happy parents and grandparents. Every face shone with joy, and no wonder: their offspring had completed their first tractate.
Mrs. Gold sat in the front row, her joy mingled with a little anxiety and impatience: where was her son?
The cheder pupils were being called to the stage by name. These were the winners, the pupils who had demonstrated how well they had learned what was written in the sacred books. The audience applauded each pupil, but where was Mrs. Gold’s son?
Of course, she, too, was smiling and happy for the boys. Yet her anxiety kept her from fully enjoying the celebration: why hadn’t they called her Menachem? Why had these boys been chosen as the winners, but not her son? He had studied hard too, and his grades were no worse than anyone else’s. So why had they forgotten him?
Put yourself in the place of Mrs. Gold and the girls in the first part of the story: how often do you experience similar feelings? And what is the difference between them?
The Book of Proverbs says: “Envy rots the bones.” Probably none of us can boast of never experiencing the trait of kinah—envy—but each of us sincerely wants to rid ourselves of this negative and destructive feeling.
Let us look at the girls taking part in the competition: clearly, they feel no envy at all toward the talented artist Miri or toward Esti and Shuli for their talents. On the contrary, they are proud to be on the same team!
And how often have you thought about the fact that the entire community of Israel is one big team?
We should not compete with one another, because we are all on the same side! Your neighbor, your brother, your coworkers, and you yourself are all members of one team! We all share a common goal and are driven by the desire to win. The team’s success is our success. If so, why should we envy our neighbors’ larger apartment, our sister’s successful career, or our friend’s special talents?
When we feel that we are all together and on the same side, not a trace of envy remains. On the contrary, we are happy and proud that all these successful people are playing on our team!
The Torah tells us: “There were seventy souls in the house of Jacob when they came to Egypt.” Rashi says that the verse uses the word “soul” in the singular—ha-nefesh, because they were united in their service of the Almighty. As one team with one goal, they were, in fact, one soul!
“And He became King over Jeshurun, when the leaders of the people gathered, the tribes of Israel all together” (Deuteronomy, 33:5). Only when all Jews are together can we proclaim our true King.
Let us remind ourselves more often how very fortunate we are to be one big team of winners!
Prepared by Mrs. A. Shvalb