Old R’ Yaakov lives near our school. R’ Yaakov is a sweet, old man who loves us dearly. But it wasn’t always like this. There were times that R’ Yaakov was a regular grumbling visitor to our principal’s office.
He had a hard time with the sounds of our running around and our playing which he could hear during our recess. The shouting and even the talking disturbed him and he did not stop complaining about it. “My life is no life,” he once hissed at the principal who was trying to calm him down.
Over the years we would hear an exchange like this: “Rude children like you, how dare you disturb the peace of an old man?” Naturally, that would be old R’ Yaakov who was disturbed by the sounds of our playing, for the umpteenth time.
“So what should we do, not play?” innocently asked a sweaty redheaded kid.
“No, don’t play. When I was your age I just sat and learned,” he said.
“Fine,” said the boy and dropped the ball he was holding. But only for a second, until R’ Yaakov’s window was closed. Then the ball was quickly retrieved and he continued to play.
Today we no longer hear things like that. We stopped playing under R’ Yaakov’s window. This is what happened over a period of a few weeks:
“Children, listen! I have something important to tell you.”
Unlike other times, this time old R’ Yaakov’s voice sounded much calmer and we went over to hear what he had to say.
“I noticed that you don’t always play under my window so I don’t hear your voices continuously. I would like to hear you regularly and so I decided to pay each child who regularly plays near my window, one shekel per day. What do you think?”
“Sure, great idea! I’m willing,” said Shloimy, the tall one among us.
“Me too, me too,” we all exclaimed. Someone was put in charge of writing down the names and at the end of every week we received our salary for our loud games. We were happy and I guess R’ Yaakov was too.
Two weeks passed and once again, old R’ Yaakov’s head appeared at the window.
“I would like to tell you something important,” he said.
We stopped our game and curiously waited to hear what he had to say.
“I am very sorry, but it’s hard for me to continue paying a shekel per child every day, so I am reducing the amount to half a shekel a day.”
Some of us were unhappy with this and said they were dropping out, but most of us stayed. Another two weeks passed in which we got half a shekel a day, but then R’ Yaakov said he was so sorry but it was hard for him to pay us and he had to reduce the payments even further.
That was already insulting. We all decided we were not willing to play under his window for such a small sum. From then on, the noise under R’ Yaakov’s window stopped completely and he was able to rest without being disturbed.
You are probably amused by what old R’ Yaakov did to stop the noise. We thought that from then on, R’ Yaakov’s life would be tranquil, but no. Surprisingly, he remained as he was before; true, the noise no longer bothered him, but we couldn’t tell on him that anything had changed.
You are probably wondering why. I was also very surprised. I decided to find out. I was afraid that something else had happened to disturb him and if so, we needed to come to his aid.
My concern grew when I went shopping in the local grocery belonging to Shimke and I heard old Yaakov say to one of the neighbors, “The situation is very hard and not good at all.” I decided to visit R’ Yaakov at home.
I left the house and walked quickly on the road that leads to the yeshiva building. I soon came to the door of the house where R’ Yaakov lived. I knocked nervously and then heard a voice call out, “Yes, it’s open, you can come in.”
If the door is open, that’s a good sign, I thought, but I didn’t know for sure. I walked in and R’ Yaakov invited me to sit down.
“What brings you here today?” he asked after offering me something to eat and drink.
I cleared my throat and wondered what to say, that I came to check things out?
“I see that you’re a bit shy, so I will tell you something interesting from the parsha and then you will tell me why you came here.
“When Yaakov Avinu saw Pharaoh, Pharaoh asked him, ‘How old are you?’ and Yaakov answered that he was 130 years old, ‘and few and bad were the years of my life.’
“I don’t understand,” exclaimed old Yaakov. “At that time, 130 years were considered a long life. Why did Yaakov Avinu say they were few and bad? Nu, what do you say, you young talmid chacham?”
I remained silent and R’ Yaakov continued. “The answer is that Yaakov Avinu yearned for the Geula. He wanted the galus to have ended already. So even if he lived many years and even though many good things happened, he felt that it was all lacking, because the Geula, which he constantly yearned for and is the purpose of creation, still had not happened.
“Do you understand why I am not satisfied with the noise under my window having stopped? What is it worth if the Geula is delayed, eh?”
I tried to digest what I had just heard and in an instant, I got it. I understood why old Yaakov always seemed dissatisfied. The mystery was solved.
“So, why did you come to visit me?” old Yaakov said, interrupting my thoughts.
“In order to learn this important lesson,” I said, while thinking that there was still one thing I did not understand. How did Yaakov know why I came to him?
I decided to just let it go, because something else was bothering me, something far more important which I anticipate all the time.