Hadassah Shvalb
Thirty delightful girls sat in a semicircle at their first lesson in the preparatory class. They were all happily excited, each eager to introduce herself and make the best possible impression on the new teacher.
“My name is Chaya, and I am five and a half years old,” said a tall girl with a ponytail in a clear voice. “My name is Rivka, and I am five years old,” a curly-haired blonde girl almost sang, lighting up the classroom with a broad smile. Another girl introduced herself—a little shyly, but with undisguised delight at the new school year and her new friends. When it was the turn of the girl with the yellow bow, she said her name so softly that the teacher had to ask her to repeat it more loudly. Instead, nearly all the girls in the class rattled off in chorus: “Her name is Feigy! She is already six years old because she was held back a year!”
Poor Feigy went pale, and her expression changed. She had not gone on to first grade, and now her new teacher would learn that she was… not as smart as her classmates from the previous year.
In the same cheerful tone she had used to welcome the previous girls, the teacher announced: “This is so wonderful! It turns out that Feigy and I are very much alike—like twins! I was once held back a year too, when I was a girl!”
Thirty pairs of eyes opened wide: the girls now looked at Feigy with a little envy, while Feigy’s normal color returned. The teacher continued: “To this day, I am grateful to my parents for giving me the opportunity to spend another year in the preparatory class, because when I went on to first grade, I was truly ready for it. Feigy, I am so glad that you and I are alike!”
The teacher’s friendly manner saved Feigy, and her kind words protected her soul…
Every day, the Chofetz Chaim would go up to the attic and thank the Almighty for the goodness He bestowed on him in his life. Among other things, he tirelessly thanked the Almighty for freeing him from, and protecting him against, the influence of ideas foreign to Judaism.
Some of the young men poisoned by these ideas tried to draw him into their ranks. A local water carrier, riding past, once noticed the young Chofetz Chaim in the company of “modern youth” and shouted: “Beware! They are hunting for your soul!”
Yisrael Meir heard the water carrier’s shout and ran away from the dangerous company. Thus, an ordinary water carrier saved the future Chofetz Chaim; he saved the great sage within him, who would bring holiness to all future generations. The water carrier’s wise words saved a great soul.
Like a door in the house, our mouths serve us sometimes by being open and sometimes by being closed.
You would not be at all pleased if you came home after an exhausting workday only to find the front door locked and the key lost. You would be no less disappointed if the door were wide open, the wind had blown piles of rubbish into the living room, and an uninvited group of vagrants had settled on your favorite sofa.
The gift of speech should be used wisely: someone who does not know when to close their mouth and talks nonstop will sooner or later get into an unpleasant situation because of their loose tongue. However, by remaining silent and refusing to use the gift of speech when it is needed, we may misjudge the situation, leaving important words unsaid—yet a single right word can build worlds! The secret to making the right decision is simple: it lies in the choice we make about when to remain silent and when to speak—and then we must use our words wisely.
Let us pause for a moment and think again before voicing our judgment.
Let us ask the Creator for help in choosing our words correctly. Speaking words of encouragement that lift spirits and give strength, or remaining silent and avoiding destructive consequences—the choice is ours. As it is said: “Life and death are in the power of the tongue.”
Prepared by A. Shvalb, based on material from an issue of “Mishmeret HaShalom.”