THE BLESSING

It happened last night. 

In my neighborhood there lives a single man; retired and affluent.  He gives away a great deal of his money to various charities and to individuals.  Most of it is given incognito – totally unknown to the recipients.

A few years ago I wrote a story about the "Lamed-vow", who according to Jewish lore, are the 36 strong pillars who hold up the world.  Without them, the world would perish.

Yet they, themselves, do not know this.  They all remain simple, unknown, ordinary people.

Without naming him, I suggested that my neighbor could, or should, be one of these 36 people who hold up order and justice on this earth.

My friend was deeply embarrassed.  It is a good thing that I did not give out his real name.  If I had, I probably would have lost a good friend.  He is very much a private person. 

Last night, Mr. "G."  phoned me.

"Philip, I have some interesting people in my home.  I told them a little about you.  They speak Yiddish, and here is a chance for you to practice the language that you love but seldom get to use.  One of my guests is a Rabbi -- here, talk to him."

"Hello Rabbi," I said. 

"Where are you from?"

"I am from Israel, from Jerusalem," he said in good English.

"But where are you really from? Where were you born?"  I asked in Yiddish.

"In Kiev, the Ukraine, old Russia," he brightened up.  "And why don’t you write in Yiddish?  I go back to Russia to bring the people back to our Jewishness, to teach them the Torah, Hebrew and even Yiddish."

"I used to write and publish in Yiddish, but I have no readers now.  They all perished and even my children don’t understand my "Mame-Loshen" – my mother’s tongue. "  I said in sadness.

 "And where did you get the name ‘Bibel’ " he asked?

"Oh, this is a really old name.  I trace my family to Gerona, Spain where they were known as the ‘People of the Book’ - people of the Torah.  During the Catholic inquisition, they fled to Holland.  When family names were imposed, they were given the name von Bibel (from the Bible).  The family eventually dropped the "von’ as being too pretentious, but the Bibel name continued for the last three centuries."

"So have you got any other stories to tell me about your past history," asked the Rabbi

"Yes," I proudly answered. 

"One of my great grandmothers was an Abbarbanell," I said proudly.  

The family Abbarbanell is the most famous family of Jewish scholars, Rabbis, and philosophers known in Europe.

I heard the Rabbi gasp and breathe  heavily. I didn’t stop there.

"I am the oldest son of a Kohen, a son and grandson of Kohanim.  My lineage goes back in a straight line to Aaron and Moses."

"You are a very important person," the Rabbi was whispering. 

"Can I come in and shake your hand?" he pleaded.

"No. I, in my condition, don’t receive any strangers.  I don’t deserve the honor of such a visit.  I am a simple person who lives to tell stories.  Some of my tales are on the web and some are in a few published books."

"But you, by your heritage and blood line, are nearer to God than I am. Could you give me a blessing?"

"No I can’t. I am not qualified," I begged off.

"Please don’t refuse me," begged the Rabbi.

I thought for a few seconds.  After all, it can’t hurt, and it could bring some assurance and affirmation to his religious beliefs.

"O.K." I said. "I will do it, if you promise to perform at least 10 mitzvahs (good deeds) in the next three months."

"I will, I will," he assured me. 

"Bend your head and close your eyes."

I raised my hands, parted my fingers as Kohanim  do, and in a sincere voice I recited the ancient blessing of the priests of Israel:

"May God bless and protect you, may his countenance shine on you and bring you peace and tranquility, and eternal peace in Israel and the world."

"Amen, amen," the Rabbi whispered. "Thank you, thank you."

I sat back and reviewed my actions.  I am not a religious person, yet I brought solace to this deeply religious man seeking  his divinity.

We are all in search of something more and higher than the mundane, ordinary existence.