Im Lovon Garti - Taryag Mitzvos Shomarti

A man once came to the Maggid of Mezeritch. He was shocked to see how empty the Maggid's home was. There was hardly any furniture and the few basic pieces he did own were all made of simple boards or stumps of wood. The man could not restrain himself and asked the holy Maggid why his house was so bare.

The Maggid responded with a question of his own: "And where is your furniture?"

"In my home, of course." answered the man.

"Why don't you have any with you?" asked the Maggid .

The man looked at the Maggid in surprise. "I'm on a business trip now. Surely a person doesn't need his furniture when he is in the middle of a journey!"

The Maggid smiled. "I, too, am on a journey. This world and all its possessions are only temporary."

**

In this week's Torah portion, Yaakov Avinu relayed this very same message to his brother Esav. "I have lived with Lavan", he said, "and I have acquired many possessions - oxen, donkeys, sheep and servants."

The word "garti" - "I have lived"-has the numerical value of 613, corresponding to the 613 mitzvot of the Torah. Yaakov's message, teaches the commentator Rashi, was -"I may have lived with Lavan for many years, but I kept the mitzvot and led my life according to the Torah."

"Garti" also comes from the root "ger", meaning a stranger, a person who knows that he's not really at home.

Yaakov was saying that everything he earned while working for Lavan - the oxen, donkeys, sheep and servants - are not really important. The entire time he was living there, he was like a stranger, because acquiring these things is not what his life was all about.

Yaakov's real life centers around his neshamah, his soul.

Until Moshiach comes, we, Yaakov's children, are also strangers. Although we may be successful and acquire many possessions, this is not what we are really living for. Like Yaakov, our lives should center around our neshama. That is what really matters to a Jew.

Joy Sweetens Severity - fell off horse...

The Mittler Rebbe, (who's anniversary of his release of prison we celebrate today,) was known for his unusual fondness for activities promoting joy. He even had a kapelya, a choir of musically gifted individuals who sang various melodies. Moreover, some of his Chassidim excelled in horse riding stunts and performed tricks and stunts for the Rebbe. Reb Nochum, one of the Mitteler Rebbe’s sons, was part of this horse riding group.

Once, the Rebbe suddenly instructed his kapelya and horse experts to begin their mode of entertainment. This was extremely unusual, for the Rebbe only used them on special dates. The Rebbe gazed out of the window at the Chassidim performing all kinds of antics when suddenly a horse reared and threw off its rider. It was Reb Nochum, the Rebbe's son.

"Your son has fallen off his horse," they informed the Rebbe,"He seems to be in critical condition."

But the Rebbe motioned for them to continue their singing and horse riding. And so the Chassidim continued with their tricks on their horses, while Reb Nochum lay motionless on the floor. All were wondering at the Rebbe’s seemingly uncaring attitude. "It’s nothing serious," the doctor who examined Reb Nochum proclaimed. "His foot is broken. He’ll be fine in a couple of weeks."

"Today was meant to be a harsh day for my son," explained the Rebbe. "I saw grave accusation against him in the Heavenly Court. The prosecution was very powerful; I could see no way out. However, joy sweetens the attribute of severity. I therefore, called upon my kapelya, instructed them to sing and asked for the horse riders to gladden everyone with their antics.

"The joy created by the singers and horse riders tempered the strict decree against my son, but a small portion of the decree remained. That is why he fell off his horse and hurt his leg, because this became the physical manifestation of the remaining decree. However, I continued with the happy activities to lessen even this lesser decree and, G-d willing, Nochum will recover in the very near future."

The story of two suits, for the prince

A man once came to the Chassidic master Rabbi Yerachmiel of Pshischa:

"Rebbe, I am a tailor. Over the years, I have earned quite a reputation for my expertise and the high quality of my work. All the nobles in the area order from me.

Several months ago, the prince himself asked that I sew him a suit of clothes from the finest silk in the land. But when I brought him the finished product, he began yelling and cursing: 'This is the best you can do? Why, it's atrocious! Who taught you to sew?' He ordered me out of his house and threw the garment out after me.

"Rebbe, I am ruined. All my capital is invested in the cloth. Worse still, my reputation has been totally destroyed. No one will dare order anything from me after this. I don't understand what happened! This is the best work I've ever done!"

"Go back to your shop," advised Rabbi Yerachmiel. "Remove all the stitches in this garment, sew them anew exactly how you sewed them before, and bring it to the prince."

"But then I'll have the same garment I have now!" protested the confused tailor.

"Do as I say", commanded the rabbi, "and G-d will help."

Two weeks later, the tailor was back. "Rebbe, You saved my life! To be honest, I had little faith in your strange idea, but with nothing to lose, I did as you said. When I presented the result to the prince, his eyes lit up. 'Beautiful!' he cried. 'You have more than lived up to your reputation. This is the finest suit of clothes I have ever seen.' He rewarded me handsomely, and promised to send more work my way.

"But I don't understand -- what was the difference between the first suit and the second if the cloth was cut and sewn in exactly the same way?"

Explained Rabbi Yerachmiel, "The first was sewn with arrogance and pride. The result was a spiritually repulsive garment, which, though technically perfect, was devoid of all grace and beauty.
"The second suit", continued the wise rabbi, "was sewn with a humble spirit and a broken heart, investing in the garment an inner beauty that evokes awe and admiration in everyone who beholds it."

What are YOU doing?

Rabbi Yosef Ber Soloveichik was the rabbi of the town of Slutsk. Once, he happened to meet a young man who had been one of his students at the yeshiva in Volozhin. The meeting was very cordial and the rabbi invited the young man to dine with him at his home.

"What are you doing these days?" the rabbi inquired.

"Thank G-d," the former student replied, "I have become a merchant and I'm very successful. In the past few years I have done very well for myself, and I'm making a very comfortable living."

The rabbi looked at his former student, paying close attention to his words and then said asked, "What are you doing?"

The young man was perplexed. Hadn't the rabbi understood him? He repeated his explanation.

Instead of acknowledging his statement, however, the rabbi only repeated, "What are you doing now?"

"I hope the rabbi will forgive my asking" said the young man, "but three times the rabbi has asked me what I'm doing and I have answered him. I don't understand."

The rabbi replied with a deep sigh: "It is correct that you have answered my question three times over, but your answer is not the one I was hoping to hear. In so far as you have accumulated money, that is nothing to your credit, for it all belongs to G-d, as it says, "Mine is the silver and Mine is the gold." It is He who gives you riches, health, and in fact, your very life.
"When I ask you "What are you doing?" I am referring to your good deeds, which are wholly your own. Do you give tzedaka (charity)? Are you kind to your fellow man? Do you devote a set time every day to the study of Torah? These are the only things in this world which are truly your own possessions which you accomplish through your efforts alone.
I am asking you what you are doing, not what G-d is doing for you!"

To FEEL for the poor...

A number of years ago, there lived a very rich Jewish miser. When the local rabbi would come to him to collect funds for the poor, the miser would invite the rabbi in, offer the rabbi a tea and talk about his business. When the rabbi would start talking about the plight of the poor people in the winter, the miser would brush him off and tell him that poor people like to complain--it wasn't all as bad as the rabbi thought. The miser would then escort the rabbi to the door, go back to his warm room and settle down near the fireplace.

The rabbi was not pleased. The poor had no money for food or for stove-wood; they were hungry and cold.

One evening, the rabbi knocked on the rich miser's door. It was a cold and miserable night, snow and sleet blew through the streets. The miser asked the rabbi in, as usual. But this time, the rabbi refused. He stood by the door and inquired after the miser's health, and after the health of his family, and asked him about his business, and spoke about affairs of the community. The miser had come to the door dressed in a thin shirt and slippers and he was getting cold. The rabbi, wearing a warm coat with a fur lining and heavy winter boots talked on and on. "No thank you", he repeated each time to miser's numerous invitations to enter. And the miser got colder and colder, his toes were freezing, his teeth were chattering, his---

Suddenly the miser understood. "Oh, Rabbi!" he cried, "Those poor people with no warm clothes or firewood for winter.... I never imagined it could be like this. This is horrible. You are right-something must definitely be done!!"

He went into the house and returned with a purse full of gold coins. The rabbi took the money with a grateful smile and thanked him. This year, the poor people would have a good winter.

And the miser? He sure learned a good lesson that night and became a regular contributor to the rabbi's funds for the poor.

The Cow Who Kept Shabbos..

There was once a Jew who owned a cow with which he plowed his field. Unfortunately, this Jew became impoverished and was forced to sell his cow. His buyer was not Jewish.

The new owner plowed with the cow all throughout the week, quite satisfied with her labor. When Shabbat arrived, however, and he took her out to the field, the cow kneeled under the yoke and refused to do any work. He yelled, he cajoled, hit her with his whip, but still she would not budge from her place.

The furious man stormed over to the Jew: "Take back your cow! All week I worked with her, but today I took her out to the field and the lazy animal refuses to do anything! "

The Jew calmed the irate owner and said: "Come with me, and I will get her to plow." When they arrived at the field where the cow lay, the Jew spoke into her ear. "Oh Cow, Cow! When you were in my domain, you rested on Shabbat. But now that I sold you to this gentile, please, stand up and do the will of your master!"

Immediately, the cow stood, prepared to work. Said the gentile to the Jew: "I'm not letting you go until you tell me what you did and what you said to her. Have you bewitched her?" The Jew repeated what he said to the cow.

When the man heard this, he was shaken and astonished. Said he: "If this creature, which has neither language or intelligence, recognizes her Creator, should not I, whom G‑d created in His image and imbued me with intelligence and understanding?"

So he went and converted to Judaism and merited to study Torah. A righteous scholar, he became known as Yochanan ben Torta, "Yochanan son of the Cow".

"SERVE G-D WITH JOY".

Joy is central to the service of G-d. The happiness with which one performs a mitzvah shows that we truly comprehend the tremendous privilege that serving the King of kings constitutes. Indeed, the Arizal, master Kabbalist, once asserted that the gates of wisdom and divine inspiration were opened for him only as a reward for his observance of mitzvot with tremendous, boundless joy.

In truth, all a person does – eating, sleeping, business, and etc – can be part of his Divine service, provided that they are done with the proper intentions. As such, the injunction to "serve G-d with joy" actually applies to all times and all situations.

For a joyful person, the toughest tasks are a breeze. For a depressed person, on the other hand, even simple challenges seem overwhelming. Victory in the lifelong battle fought against one's temptations is largely dependent on constantly maintaining a joyous disposition.

* Consider G-d's unfathomable greatness.
* Appreciate how small and insignificant you are by comparison.
* Contemplate on how He loves and cherishes you.
* Consider how, when you do a mitzvah, you cause Him to dwell with us here in our world.
* Recognize that all that transpires is part of G-d's plan, and that G-d is in control.
* Understand that no evil could emanate from G-d—for He is entirely good.
* Feel secure in the knowledge that everything is exactly as it is supposed to be, and Someone is looking out for you

Let a sense of purpose lend bounce to your step, as you go about your daily activities.

The Fox And The Vineyard

A sly fox passed a lovely vineyard. A tall, thick fence surrounded the vineyard on all sides. As the fox circled around the fence, he found a small hole in the fence, barely large enough for him to push his head through. The fox could see what luscious grapes grew in the vineyard, and his mouth began to water. But the hole was too small for him. So what did the clever fox do? He fasted for three days until he became so thin that he managed to slip through the hole.

Inside the vineyard, the fox began to eat to his heart's content. He grew bigger and fatter than ever before. Finally, he decided he had eaten enough and wanted to leave the vineyard. But alas! The hole was too small again. So what did he do? He fasted for three days again, and then just about managed to slip through the hole and out again.

Turning his head towards the vineyard, the poor fox said: "Vineyard, O’ vineyard! How lovely you look, and how lovely are your fruits and vines. But what good are you to me? Just as I came to you, so I leave you..."

And so, our Sages say, it is also with this world. It is a beautiful world, but, as King Solomon teaches, just as man comes into this world empty-handed, so he leaves it. Only the Torah he studied, the mitzvot he performed, and the good deeds he practiced are the real fruits which he can take with him.

Avrohom - live life to the fullest!

Many of us are too frightened to enter into our lives and live it fully, with complete presence of mind, heart and body, with passion and zest. We do not trust life enough to let it possess us. Life holds too much pain, too many disappointments, so much shame, anger and guilt; we would rather let our days pass by as we "mark time" and retain a certain distance, so that we remain safe.

Yet Avraham and Sarah, the Torah says, "They came into the days;" they fully entered into their days. All their days were explored,utilized and lived to the fullest.

Avraham and Sarah enjoyed tremendous blessings and victories, as well as profound pain and disappointment, including the fact that Sarah was (at that time) childless. Yet throughout the positive as well as the challenging, the joyous as well as the painful -- they allowed themselves to experience the pulse of life in its totality. They did not retreat into the cocoon of safe detachment.

Sure, it is safer to create a border between yourself and your experiences. No sorrow, no pain, no tears. But that may come at the cost of LIVING, of a life filled with exuberance, laughter and passion..

And the Torah tells us that Abraham's courage lasted him till the very end. "Abraham was old, he came into the days." Even as a widower, Abraham did not detach from life. He breathed it in, with all of its majesty, drama and pain. That is what we call truly living: acquiring the courage to become one with life, to feel it and to love it.

Till his last breath, Avraham, the founder of the Jewish faith awoke each morning and said, "I will live my life today to the fullest; my heart and soul will fully go along with the ride we call living."

Sold his OlamHaba - Redeemed it by Mitzva providing for poor bride.

With tears in his eyes, R' Mottel cried to The Rebbe of Apta, "Rebbe, please help me, I need one thousand rubles to marry off my daughter and I have exactly one ruble to my name!"
"Well, one ruble is also something", said the Rebbe, "Go and purchase the first piece of goods that comes your way. Surely, G-d will bless you."

R' Mottel had faith in the words of the Tzaddik and so, encountering a group of rowdy merchants on his way home, his interest was aroused.

"Looking to buying something?" one merchant called out mockingly.

"Yes," he replied," I have one ruble."

"One ruble! Ha! Well, I have something I can sell for one ruble-my portion in the World to Come!"

And so, a contract was drawn up. Both the buyer and the seller signed their names, and Reb Mottel handed over the coin. The merchants' laughter filled the air.

When the seller's wife inquired what the laughter was about, her husband responded, "You see that beggar over there? I just sold him my portion in the World to Come!"

"What!" she cried. "You sold him the only thing of value that you own!? I want a divorce!"

The merchant was shocked. Didn't she know that this sale was just a joke? But his wife was perfectly serious.

So, the merchant called over Reb Mottel. "I'm afraid our little bargain is off." he told him, "I'll give you back your one ruble, and you give me back my paper."

But, Reb Mottel refused. "I am very happy with my purchase. I have no intention of returning it."

"How about if I add a few rubles compensation for the 'broken contract,'" he chuckled.

"No thanks," replied Mottel. "I won't settle for less than one thousand rubles!"

"What! Are you mad? One thousand rubles??! Forget it! Keep your paper!"

But the merchant's wife insisted. "I promise that if you don't buy that paper back, I will have a divorce this very day! I won't spend my life with a man who sold his portion in the World to Come!

The merchant realized he had no choice. He gave one thousand rubles to Reb Mottel who handed him back the document. Reb Mottel then told the seller's wife the words of the Apter Rebbe. She was so impressed that she went to visit the Rebbe herself.

"Was my husband's portion in the World to Come worth only one ruble?" she asked the Rebbe, painfully.

Responded the Rebbe: "The truth is, before he sold it, it wasn't even worth that much. But when he redeemed it by 'buying' the mitzva of dowering a bride, the value of his Future Life soared, for such a mitzva cannot be measured in money!"

Rachel Imeinu - Our Matriarch

Today, the eleventh day of Cheshvan, is the anniversary of the passing of our Matriarch Rachel, the most beloved wife of Yaakov.

When Rachel died, Yaakov and his family were only a short distance from the city Bet Lehem. Yet, Yaakov did not bring his dear wife Rachel into that town to be buried, nor did he bring her home with him to Hebron, but he buried her on the side of the road.

Why this seemingly uncaring behavior?

Yaakov foresaw that following the destruction of the First Temple, when the Jews would be driven from their homes and forced into exile, they would pass on this very road. Burying Rachel on the roadside would give these discouraged Jews the opportunity to cry out to Rachel. They would take courage from her presence, and she would beseech G-d on their behalf.

The prophet Yermiyahu describes what actually happened:

A voice is heard on high,
Wailing, bitterly crying.
Rachel weeps for her children
She refuses to be consoled
For they are gone.

And G-d's response:

"Restrain your voice from weeping,
"Hold back your eyes from their tears.
"For your work has its reward and your children shall return to their border."

According to the Midrash, at that time the other Patriarchs, Matriarchs and Moses, too, begged for mercy. But G-d remained silent. Then Rachel lifted her voice, and only she elicited the promise of redemption.

"O Lord of the Universe," she argued. "Consider what I did for my sister Leah." And immediately, G-d's mercy was aroused and He responded, "For you, Rachel, I will bring Israel back to their place."

Instead of a burial spot in the family plot in Hebron, she accepted a lonely burial, on the side of a deserted road. She did this in order to be there for her children who would live tens of centuries later

Rachel is the ultimate Jewish mother, sacrificing for our well-being and security. This feeling of limitless love and motherly concern is what draws people to her tomb to this day. Her grave will always remain a House of Prayer for she is a mother to all Israel, and continuously awaken mercy on our behalf.

KEVER ROCHEL