Todah Rebuffed

Yom rishon, 4 Shevat 5771.

One of our successful parenting techniques in the realm of aliyah with our teenangels was to remind them how much we love them, and want them to be comfortable.  "If Heinz ketchup makes aliyah easier for you, we will buy it.  And that goes for any products that you miss from America.  Just remember that if the US ever decides on an embargo against Israel, it will be the only embargo that has ever been consistently adhered to in history, and the products you love might not be permitted in.  So try to be flexible.  Abba and I are trying to train ourselves to do without American stuff."  The project was successful.  Our kids knew we cared about their feelings; but in a short time, they said things like "Heinz just doesn't taste as good as Osem."  Little by little, the whole family has started to prefer most things Israeli -- though Stunt Man always smiles broadly when someone brings him a gift of Planter's Peanuts.

There is one American commodity I would like to convince the Israelis to import, however.  That American product is "Thank you."

"Todah" means "thank you" in Hebrew.

Now, lest you think that I am speaking sarcastically from a place of not receiving sufficient gratitude -- quite the contrary!  I am actually talking about the almost obsessive inability of Israelis to accept the humble "todah."

I was in the US army, as was my husband.  "Blue" states, such as Maryland, don't make it public practice to show effusive gratitude to military service members -- at least not in the cities, and not at the airport.  So when I flew to Dallas for my work years ago, I was struck dumb and got a lump in my throat the size of Texas when I saw tens of people applauding soldiers who stepped off a flight from Afghanistan.  Since that time, I go out of my way to tell a kid in uniform that I appreciate what he is doing for us.  You should see the shy, sweet smiles I get from young US soldiers when they hear that message.

Naturally, since I've come to live in Israel, I am deeply grateful to the boys and girls who guard our borders and our cities, and make it possible for me to sleep at night.  I often say to an IDF soldier, "Todah al ha-sherut shelcha la-aretz sheylanu!"  Thank you for your service to our country.  If he is a child of immigrants, the soldier "gets it," and is grateful for my gratitude.  But if he's been in Israel for several generations, the conversation might go like this:

"About what?  What did I do?"

Your military service, defending our country."

[Closeup to look of total incredulity:]  "Everybody does it.  You have to."

"That doesn't mean I can't be grateful."  [Incredulity deepens here.]  "It is halacha for you to treat your wife with respect.  That doesn't mean she can't show gratitude that you do."  [Incredulity lightens only slightly at this point.]

"America'im," he says, with a shake of the head.

"Yeah -- can't live with 'em, can't kill 'em," I respond, quoting my favorite Tom Arnold line from the movie True Lies.  Now he really doesn't understand me, as few jokes translate easily between languages; so the conversation is over.

A sweet variation on this conversation happens when I go out with organizations such as Standing Together to take pizza and ice cream or hot soup to the soldiers at various checkpoints throughout Israel.  When we thank them, they immediately turn the gratitude back on us:  "No, we are thankful to you!  It's you who are doing so much!"

Rabbi Yisroel Miller, a prolific author on Jewish topics and nephew of the late Rav Avigdor Miller, says it something like this.  It is hard for human beings to accept gratitude.  We tend to say things like "it's not that big a deal," or "I didn't do so much."  Rav Miller says that when someone says "thank you" to us, there is only one correct response:  "You're welcome."

My rav, Rabbi Menachem Goldberger, goes Rav Miller one better (in my humble opinion).  When someone says thank you to him, Rav Goldberger says "Baruch tihiyeh."  This expression accepts the thank you, and reflects blessings back onto the person who expressed gratitude, sort of "you're welcome" with a bracha.

It is important for Jews to be grateful, and to share that gratitude.  Our very name -- Yehudi -- comes from the Hebrew word for gratitude.  Gratitude is fundamental to who we are, and means so much more than "thx."  It means admission that we know someone has given us a hand.  It means acknowledgement that we can't function without each other.  Without this small word, we fail to be as civilized as Hashem has asked us to be.

The Dearly Beloved pointed out another fact about rebuffed gratitude.  As Rabbi David Fohrman explains (in a long lecture that I cannot do justice to in this short essay), the reason it is hard for us to say "thank you" is that it creates an imbalance between us, one that our egos cannot easily countenance.  When we say "you're welcome," we are back in balance again.  (It works that way with "I'm sorry" as well.)  I paid you for the favor you did for me by acknowledging it.  If you refuse my thanks, the imbalance remains.

So while I'm not sure that we need every American product -- some expressions are a little more superficial than the Israelis can handle, and more power to them for that -- I would like to see the good ol' USA's heavy usage of the gratitude exchange become more prevalent here.

Our soldiers, airmen, sailors, policemen and firemen deserve to hear it.  So do our teachers and rabbis, our friends and spouses, and especially our children.  As the Dearly Beloved says to our sons:  "World peace begins at our table."

"I will sing and chant praises to Hashem."

Yom rishon, 24 Elul 5769.

This seems to have been a Shabbat of hoda'ah (gratitude).

Friday night, there was a very lovely gathering in a home in my community for the best possible reason:  a terrible tragedy was averted, and a family continues to be whole, with no one missing at the Shabbat table.

A lovely young woman who is well known for her giving nature put her tiny body in the way of a vehicle as it rolled downhill with her small children inside.  Instead of careening out of control down the steep grade and into who-knows-what tragic ending, the car's encounter with 40 kilos of mere woman caused it to be deflected into a nearby boulder, which stopped it, and saved the children.

Her husband immediately made a seuda hoda'ah -- a feast of thanksgiving -- inviting the community to share dessert and an opportunity for a communal sigh of relief.  He spoke beautifully of his gratitude to the community that came together to volunteer assistance; to his wife for her courage and grace throughout the pain; to his teenager for being wise enough to see how fortunate we all are; to Hashem, for allowing his family to remain whole.  He suggested to the friends that overflowed his home that we should not put off our gratitude, but should express it while the emotions are still palpable.

Rabbi Dr. Tzvi Hersh Weinreb wrote an important d'var Torah on the week's parsha.  He reminds us that "thank you" are "the most important two words in our language...The world would be a much better place if we each could cultivate an 'attitude of gratitude'."

With that in mind, I want to add my thanks.  Thank You, Hashem, for saving my friend's life, and the lives of her children.  Please give a refua shelaima to Elana Michal Bat Tamar Chana.

  
And while I'm at it --  Thank You for allowing my family to live in this remarkable community, in this very beautiful and special, holy country.  The many things I have to thank You for would take more than one blog post; but at least I can offer a few words of thanks before I sleep tonight.

Thank You for giving me vision to appreciate the very tiny beauty around me.               

Thank You for giving me the time to watch life unfold in this amazing Land.

Thank You for letting me live in a country where there are peaceful, tranquil waterfalls and walkways, even in the center of the holiest city on Earth!

Thank You for letting me live in a country with a tallit for a flag.

Thank You for allowing me to live in a land whose ancient history is all around us, and proves that the Tanach You gave to us is a living, factual document.

 

Thank You for letting my family live in a land where it is easy to keep things in perspective -- if we just remember what it is we're looking at.

 

Thank You for the fact that the guys in our skies are the good guys...

...and the bureacrats take the time to become one's friends.

Oh, another thing, Hashem.  Remember that time we were walking in Givat Sha'ul, and the Dearly Beloved and I were really missing our Rav from the old country?  And suddenly, out of nowhere, You sent us that little hug?  We really appreciated that, Hashem.  Thank You!

P.S.  Thanks for another year of life.  My bracha is that everyone who reads these words is blessed to develop an increased attitude of gratitude this year.  May we finally say the words and do the actions that will bring the Geula.  May all of Hashem's Am Segula finally come Home.

P.P.S.  And thank You for making me a woman!  (The guys are leaving for slichot in about two hours.  I'll try not to snore too loudly.)