Meaning of Life – Chayim Plural

 Meaning of Life – Chayim Plural So what is the meaning of life? What is its true definition? In Hebrew life is Chayim. In Hebrew words can be singular or plural interestingly the word Chayim is plural. What is the hidden message? The Rebbe expressed it beautifully: During a farbrengen attended by college professors and University students the Rebbe remarked that the Hebrew word for life, Chayim, which literally means “lives”, is in the plural rather than “life” in the singular. This comes to teach us an important truth. We are not truly alive until we think and care about others. Meaningful life for a human being doesn't exist in isolation but in plurality, shared with others. This reflects the teaching of the great Sage Hillel, legendary for his patience, tolerance and humility. He taught: “If I am only for myself what am I? The Needy and the Needed A once-wealthy chassid who had lost his entire fortune came to see Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi. "If G-d has chosen to afflict me with poverty," he wept, "I accept the Divine judgment. But how can I can I accept that I cannot repay my debts? That I am unable to honor the dowry I promised for my daughter's marriage? Why is g-d doing this to me? "Rebbe!" cried the chassid, "I need your blessing!" Rabbi Schneur Zalman sat with his head in his arms in a in deep meditation listening to the chassid's tearful pleas. After a long pause, Rabbi Schneur Zalman lifted his head and said with great feeling: "You only speak of all that you need. But you say nothing of what you are needed for." The Rebbe's words pierced his heart, and he fainted. When the chassid opened his eyes he was a changed man and with a new found joy he devoted himself to a spiritual life. Several weeks later his Rebbe summoned him and, blessed him with success. In time, the chassid regained his wealth, made good on his debts and promises, married off his daughters, and resumed his philanthropy on an even more generous level than before

Arab Remembers Honesty of Jews Fifty Years Later

 Arab Remembers Honesty of Jews Fifty Years Later

A powerful story (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0ltu-PioKm0):

A Jewish fellow by the name of Steve Clar, from Arcadian Development Group, a company that develops, builds and renovates nursing homes, was traveling to Kentucky. He was exhausted and entered a gas station to get a coffee. He hears the owner speaking Arabic on the phone, so when the owner asks Steve how he’s doing, he answers: Hem-Di-Lilah, thank G-d in Arabic. The man was shocked that a Jew with a kipa knows Arabic. They strike up a conversation and the man tells him: I’m in love with the Jewish people. Why?

I grew up in Ramallah, in Israel. We were 10 brothers and sisters; we lived in one room in a refugee camp. We were a poor family, no bread, nothing at home. To help support my family I had to travel to Jerusalem. In Jerusalem there is a corner where you can stand, and if people need any labor, they pick you up from there. There was a Jewish guy, a contractor, Moshe, who hired me to paint houses; I made a nice income and brought back food for my family.

But then suddenly the Yom Kippur War broke out in 1973. The Arabs launched a surprise attack, and they closed immediately all the borders, we couldn't travel to Jerusalem to find work. The war ended but we're still afraid to go into Jerusalem to get work. We were so poor. No food stamps in our city… when you have no bread, you starve.

Ad then suddenly one day, the Israeli Army enters Ramallah and they're asking for my name, they're looking for me. Everybody's scared they are going to arrest me. They found my house, they knocked on my door, I was petrified. Sudddenly, I see, who comes out of the army jeep? My contractor, Moshe, who was also a reserve General in the Israeli army, and managed to get a few soldiers to escort him to our home in Ramallah. Moishe stuck his hand into his bulletproof vest, took out an envelope, and handed it to me, and said: Here's your last paycheck; I'm sorry I wasn't able to pay you till now, because of the Yom Kippur War. I was blown away.

50 years passed, and here you, a proud Jew comes into my gas station in Kentucky. I can’t tell you how much I love Jews.

I live in Kentucky today. I am very affluent. I own more than 24 gas stations and build parking lots and truck stops. The man is a tycoon. But I want you to know, that the pay check he game me 50 years ago, which consisted of maybe 60-70 dollars is worth more to me than the millions I make now each year. I swear, if I knew his last name, I’d go to Israel, search for him and give him a long hug and kiss! I want to tell him: you taught me the most sacred lesson in my life.

(Shortly after the YK war, my family moved to Kuwait. We built a construction company,  we were very successful. Then in 1990 Saddam Hussein attacked and invaded Kuwait. His army came in and stole everything we owned; they took everything, even my car, my bank account. Everything! I could not buy milk for my kids. And these were our Arab brothers. I thought to myself, wow, look at the difference between the Jewish guy, Moshe, who after two months of war came with the army looking for me to give me my paycheck, so I can feed my brothers; while in Kuwait they took everything from me.)

Here is an Arab who understands the gift of being a Jew and living Judaism.

oy, i wish i had your will power

 Womans is leaving her muli-million estage in beverly hills...

Poor man 'Please i have not eaten in 3 days"

Woman - oy, i wish i had your will power

Strong Man - "I'm a fundraiser.

 The Strongman

The local pub was so sure that its bar tender was the strongest man around that they offered a standing $1,000 bet. The barman would squeeze a lemon until all the juice ran into a glass, and then hand the lemon to a customer. Anyone who could squeeze one more drop of juice out would win the money. Many people had tried over time (weight lifters, rowers, wrestlers, etc.) but nobody could do it.

One day Moshe, a scrawny little man, came into the bar. He went up to the bar tender and said in a soft voice, "I'd like to try the bet" After the laughter had died down, the barman agreed. He grabbed a lemon and

squeezed away. Then he handed the wrinkled remains of the rind to Moshe.

But the laughter turned to silence as Moshe clenched his fist around the lemon and four more drops fell into the glass.

As the crowd cheered, the barman paid the $1,000 and asked, "What do you do for a living? Are you a professional strong man, or what?"

Moshe replied, "I'm a fundraiser.

Paid in full, with one glass of milk

As a young man, Howard Kelly was hiking in the woods, when he grew weary, hungry, and
thirsty. He stopped at the next house and asked for a drink of water. The beautiful girl who
opened the door thought he could use more than a glass of water, so she graciously brought him a
large glass of milk. He drank it slowly, and then asked, "How much do I owe you?" "You don't
owe me anything," she replied. "Mother has taught us never to accept pay for a kindness." Kelly
replied, "Then I thank you from my heart.".
Year's later the young woman fell ill, and the local doctors sent her to the big city, where they
called in specialists to study her disease. Dr. Howard Kelly was called in for consultation and he
recognized her at once. He went back to the consultation room determined to do his best to save
her life. After a long struggle, the battle was won, and her life was saved. Dr. Kelly requested the
business office to pass the final bill to him for approval.
He looked at it, wrote something on the edge and the bill was sent to her room. She was afraid to
look at it for she was sure it would take the rest of her life to pay the bill. Finally, she looked, and
something caught her attention on the side of the bill. She read these words. . .
";Paid in full, with one glass of milk"

Joke - A wealthy Jew dies

A wealthy Jew dies and in his will leaves millions of dollars for various organizations and for his family and friends. At the funeral, the Rabbi notices some stranger weeping uncontrollably. "Why are you crying so intensely? Were you related to the man?" asked the Rabbi. "No,” came the reply. "So why are you so distraught?" "Well, as I just said, because I wasn’t related to the man.”

Joke: Fishing in a Garden

You know the anecdote:

A kind-hearted fellow was walking through Central Park in New York and was

astonished to see an old man, fishing rod in hand, fishing over a beautiful bed of red

roses.

"Tsk Tsk!" said the passer-by to himself. "What a sad sight. That poor old man is

fishing over a bed of flowers. I'll see if I can help." So the kind fellow walked up to

the old man and asked, "What are you doing, my friend?"

"Fishin', sir."

"Fishin', eh. Well how would you like to come have a drink with me?"

The old man stood, put his rod away and followed the kind stranger to the corner

bar. He ordered a large glass of Beer and a fine cigar.

His host, the kind fellow, felt good about helping the old man, and he asked, "Tell

me, old friend, how many did you catch today?"

The old fellow took a long drag on the cigar, blew a careful smoke ring and replied,

"You are the sixth today, sir!"

thieves that broke into the Chabad

Did you hear about the thieves that broke into the Chabad offices?
They got away with over a million dollars in pledges!

Joke: RABBI OF FEW WORDS

Rabbi Schwartz answers his phone.
"Hello. is this Rabbi Schwartz?" "It is"
"This is the IRS. Can you help us?" "I can"
"Do you know a Sam Cohen?", "I do".
"Is he a member of your congregation?", "He is"
"Did he donate $10,000?", "He will"

Hand in my pocket

It was graduation day and Mom was trying to take a picture of her son in a cap and gown, posed with his father. "Let's try to make this look natural" she said. "Junior, put your arm around your dad's shoulder." The father answered, "If you want it to look natural, why not have him put his hand in my pocket?"

Check Out My Room

By Dov Peretz Elkins - Chabad.org A prominent rabbi of Newton, Massachusetts, attended a housewarming party at a large, beautiful home in his wealthy suburb of Boston. Guests oohed and ahhed, checking out every unusual piece of furniture, every exotic light fixture, every imported piece of handcrafted art, the thick azure carpets, the golden hand-carved door handles both inside and outside, and on and on and on. During the course of the evening, the homeowners related to their guests that they had paid the highest fee for their interior decorator, but it was worth every penny. The results were astonishing. Every decision, down to the last window treatment, was just impeccable. They could not have been more pleased. “This,” they declared, in contrast to how most people thought a home should be furnished, “is interior decorating.” About an hour passed, and the elderly mother of the hostess, who lived with her daughter and son-in-law, asked her rabbi friend to come upstairs and take a look at her room. Having left the posh living room and dining room of this large, magnificently appointed and lavish home, the elderly woman opened the door of her upstairs bedroom and pointed her finger toward the windowsill. When the rabbi looked, he was astounded at what he saw. The woman did not point, as the daughter did, to any of the furniture or decorations of the room. She pointed only to the windowsill, toward a row of charity boxes, pushkes, one for every worthwhile cause imaginable. There were boxes for hospitals, yeshivot (religious schools), orphanages, battered women’s shelters, homes for children who were blind or deaf, funds for the handicapped—you name it! One for every single Jewish institution she could find that distributed charity boxes for people to drop coins in and return when full. Before modern methods of fundraising took hold, these small charity boxes “decorated” kitchen windows in every traditional Jewish home. “Now, Rabbi,” said the elderly woman, gazing proudly at her windowsill filled with charity boxes—“this is interior decorating!”

Joke - his entire life he never gave a thing

Issy and David friends fir many years always together
Every Sunday went fishing together

One Sunday the water got very rocky and turned over the boat.

David starts to swim to shore and hears Issy calling fir hell turns around sees Issy struggling to stay afloat
David remembers Issy doesn't know how to swim
He swims towards Issy and Issy starts going under and up
David says give me your hand Issy give me your hand ill save you
But he drowns

During shiva David is at the home if the widow
And she asks what happened that day
David tells over
She replies oy you should have given him your hand
Don't you know his entire life he never gave a thing

Choose between wealth, honor and wisdom.

A joke is told of a genie that appeared at a meeting of the faculty at a
prestigious university. She approached the president and told him that due
to his scholarship, diligence and devotion he was entitled to one of three
blessings. He must choose between wealth, honor and wisdom. Without
hesitation the president chose wisdom and the genie granted his wish and
disappeared.

Awed by the moment the faculty waited silently for the first pearls of
wisdom to flow from the president?s mouth. Awash in a halo of light, the
president quietly murmured, ?I should have taken the money

Growing Good Corn

A farmer grew award-winning corn. Each year he entered his corn in the state fair where it won a blue ribbon. One year a newspaper reporter interviewed him and learned something interesting about how he grew it. The reporter discovered that the farmer shared his seed corn with his neighbors. “How can you afford to share your best seed corn with your neighbors when they are entering corn in competition with yours each year?” the reporter asked. “Why sir,” said the farmer, “didn’t you know? The wind picks up pollen from the ripening corn and swirls it from field to field. If my neighbors grow inferior corn, cross-pollination will steadily degrade the quality of my corn. If I am to grow good corn, I must help my neighbors grow good corn.” He is very much aware of the connectedness of life. His corn cannot improve unless his neighbor’s corn also improves.

So it is with our lives. Those who choose to live in peace must help their neighbors to live in peace. Those who choose to live well must help others to live well, for the value of a life is measured by the lives it touches. And those who choose to be happy must help others to find happiness, for the welfare of each is bound up with the welfare of all.

The lesson for each of us is this: if we are to grow good corn,
we must help our neighbors grow good corn.

Arms and Legs for Others

Bob Butler lost his legs in a 1965 land mine explosion in Vietnam. He returned home a war hero. Twenty years later, he proved once again that heroism comes from the heart. Butler was working in his garage in a small town in Arizona on a hot summer day when he heard a woman's screams coming from a nearby house. He began rolling his wheelchair toward the house but the dense shrubbery wouldn't allow him access to the back door. So he got out of his chair and started to crawl through the dirt and bushes. I had to get there, he says. It didn't matter how much it hurt. When Butler arrived at the pool there was a three-year-old girl named Stephanie Hanes lying at the bottom. She had been born without arms and had fallen in the water and couldn't swim. Her mother stood over her baby screaming frantically. Butler dove to the bottom of the pool and brought little Stephanie up to the deck. Her face was blue, she had no pulse and was not breathing. Butler immediately went to work performing CPR to revive her while Stephanie's mother telephoned the fire department. She was told the paramedics were already out on a call. Helplessly, she sobbed and hugged Butler's shoulder. As Butler continued with his CPR, he calmly reassured her. Don't worry, he said. I was her arms to get out of the pool. It'll be okay. I am now her lungs. Together we can make it. Seconds later the little girl coughed, regained consciousness and began to cry. As they hugged and rejoiced together the mother asked Butler how he knew it would be okay. The truth is, I didn't know, he told her. But when my legs were blown off in the war, I was all alone in a field. No one was there to help except a little Vietnamese girl. As she struggled to drag me into her village, she whispered in broken English, It okay. You can live. I be your legs. Together we make it. Her kind words brought hope to my soul and I wanted to do the same for Stephanie. There are simply those times when we cannot stand alone. There are those times when we need someone to be our legs, our arms, our friend! 

Story: The Tip

In the days when an ice cream sundae cost much less, a 10-year-old boy
entered a hotel coffee shop and sat at a table. A waitress put a glass of
water in front of him. "How much is an ice cream sundae, he asked" "Fifty
cents," replied the waitress. The little boy pulled his hand out of his
pocket and studied the number of coins in it. "How much is a dish of plain
ice cream?" he inquired. Some people were now waiting for a table and the
waitress was a bit impatient. "Thirty-five cents," she said brusquely. The
little boy again counted the coins. "I'll have the plain ice cream," he
said.

The waitress brought the ice cream, put the bill on the table and walked
away. The boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and departed. When
the waitress came back, she began wiping down the table and then swallowed
hard at what she saw. There, placed neatly beside the empty dish, were two
nickels and five pennies - her tip.

Story: Shlomo Karlebach & The Hunchback - Favors in the night....

A Story:

One of the greatest Chassidic masters of pre-war Poland was Rabbi Kalonimus Kalman (1889-1943), the Master of Piaseczno. He would say that children at five years old already need a mentor: they need somebody to connect their souls to heaven. So in his Polish city if Piaseczno he founded one of the largest Jewish schools in Poland, gathering around him a kingdom of children. He ran a school with thousands of children, and he was their father, their mother, their best friend. In 1940, Rabbi Klonimus Kalman was deported with his family by the Germans to the Warsaw ghetto. There he wrote a most precious book called "The Holy Fire", Eish Kodesh, which recounted the teachings he gave in the darkness of the ghetto. He buried the book in a milk barrel underground the ghetto. In 1943 He was short near Lublin.  His entire family too was exterminated. After the war, his manuscript was discovered by a construction worker in Warsaw and was given to the Warsaw Jews. In 1957, someone finally realized what it was; it was sent and published in Israel in 1961. 

To Do a Favor

The famous Jewish composer Rabbi Shlomeleh Karlebach related this story:

When the book Eish Kodesh came out after the war was over, I couldn’t believe its beauty, it so pierced my heart. I asked everyone, “Where are those kids? The precious children who heard these teachings every week in Warsaw? I’d love to speak to them.” I was told that nobody survived.

But one day, a few years ago, I was walking down rechov Yarcon, a street near the beach of Tel Aviv. And there I saw a hunchback, he looked so broken and crushed. His face was beautiful, so handsome, but his body was misshapen. He was sweeping the streets. I had a feeling this person was special and so I said, “Shalom, peace unto you.”

He replied to me in the heaviest Polish “Alaichem shoolem.” I asked if he was from Poland. And he says, “Yes I’m from Piaseczno.” And I couldn’t believe it—Piaseczno. I asked if he had ever seen the holiest Kalonimus Kalmun, Piaseczno’s master. He said to me, “What do you mean, have I seen him? I was a pupil in his school from the age of five until I was eleven. When I was eleven, I went to Auschwitz. I was so strong they thought I was seventeen. I was whipped and hit and kicked and never healed---that is why I look the way I do now. I have nobody in the world. I’m all alone. My entire family was murdered.” And he kept on sweeping the streets of Tel Aviv.

I said, “My sweetest friend, do you know, my whole life I’ve been waiting to see you, a person who saw the Master of Piaseczno, a person who was one of his children. Please, give me one of his teachings.”

The hunchback glared at me. “Do you think you can be in Auschwitz 3 years and still remember teachings?!”

“Yes, I’m sure of it,” I said. “The Master’s teachings—how could you forget them?”

And so he said, “Well, wait.” He went to the water fountain to wash his hands. He fixed his shirt, put on his jacket, and then said to me one more time, “Do you really want to hear it?”

“I swear to you, I’ll share the teachings all over the world.”

So he began. “I want you to know that there never was such a Shabbos as this one in our childhood town of Piaseczno. We danced, hundreds and maybe thousands of children, and the master was singing a song to greet the holy angels, and at the meal he would teach between every course. After every teaching this is what the master would said:

“‘Kinderlach, gedenkt zshe, de gresteh zach in der velt iz tuen emetzen a tovah – Children, remember! The greatest thing in the world is to do somebody else a favor.’”

In Auschwitz

The hunchback sighed. “You know, my parents are gone, my whole family, no one exists anymore. And so I was in Auschwitz and all alone and I wanted to commit suicide. At the last moment I could hear my master say, “Kinderlach, children…do somebody else a favor. Do somebody a favor.’”

He looked me directly in the eyes. “Do you know how many favors you can do in Auschwitz at night? People are lying are on the floor crying, and nobody even has any strength to listen to their stories anymore. I would walk from one person to the other and ask, ‘Why are you crying?’ and they would tell me about their children, their wives, people they’d never see in this life again. I would hold their hands and cry with them. Then I would walk to the next person. And it would give me strength for another day. 

“When I was at the end again… I’d hear my Rebbe’s voice. I want you to know I’m here in Tel Aviv and I have no one in the world. And I take off my shoes, go down to the beach, I go up to my nose in the ocean, ready to drown, and I can’t help but hear my Rebbe’s voice saying, ‘The greatest thing in the world is to do somebody else a favor. Remember, my precious children, the greatest thing in the world is to do somebody else a favor.’”

He stared at me again for a long time and said, “You know how many favors you can do on the streets of the world?”

And he kept on sweeping the street.

It was the end of summer and I had to go back to the States for Rosh Hashana. But when I returned to Tel Aviv, I went searching Yarcon, looking for my holy hunchback. I couldn’t find him. I asked some people, who told me, “Don’t you know? He left the world just after Sukkos.”

We die with our hands open

It was taught in the name of Rabbi Meir:  When one comes into the world his hands are clenched as if to say: the whole world is mine and I will inherit it.  And when one takes leave of the world his hands are open, as if to say:  I have not taken from this world a single thing.

Fascinating: The Midrash examines what is the underlying reason for the contrast between the hands of a newborn baby and that of one who has just died. When a baby is born its hands are tightly clenched. In fact, one of the earliest “games” we play with our infants is placing our fingers inside their tiny hands and they clench their fist and grab it.

Whereas the hands of a corpse lay lifelessly wide open. Why?

The Midrash explains that a newborn fools himself into believing that he has the power to conquer the world. This is symbolized with his tightly clenched hands. It is as if he were saying that he will take hold and seize this world. However, when that individual dies, those same hands lay wide open in acknowledgement of the fact that he has taken absolutely nothing from this world. We die and we can take nothing.

Story: Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach & $150

150 Dollars

In 1978, Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach, the popular Jewish composer and singer, gave a concert in Dubrovnik, Yugoslavia. When the concert was finished, Reb Shlomo came across a young man sobbing. "Holy brother," he asked, "why are you crying your heart out like that?" The man, a non-Jew, told Reb Shlomo that he had just won a scholarship to a medical school in Paris, but didn't have the money for the plane ticket. Just that day, he has been totally unsuccessful in securing a loan. "How much is the plane fare?" Reb Shlomo asked. "A hundred and fifty dollars." Reb Shlomo went through his pockets and pulled out all his cash. He counted out the money and handed it to the man, who was stunned.

"You don't even know me. How do you know I'll ever pay you back?" "It's not a loan," Reb Shlomo answered. "It's a gift." The man was adamant that he didn't want charity, he wanted to pay back the money. Reb Shlomo wrote down his name and address, then added, "Repay me only when you truly can."

Ten years later an envelope postmarked Dubrovnik arrived at the Carlebach Shul in Manhattan, along with a check for $150 and a note: "Because of your great kindness, I am today a successful physician in Dubrovnik, with a thriving practice. I owe everything to you and will never forget you for the rest of my life." (Mandelbaum, Holy Brother, pp. 75-76)

"He has a rich father"

A shnorrer was soliciting a handout from Baron Rothschild. Displeased with the amount he'd been given, the shnorrer complained, "Your son gave me twice as much" ● "Well, my son can afford to," said Baron Rothschild.  "He has a rich father"