THANKING FOR THE GOOD

By Zalman Ben Nun

The ticket office in Yerushalayim was very busy. Everyone wanted to go to the grave of the holy Tanna, Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai on Lag B’Omer. I got on line and waited patiently for my turn.

Time moved slowly and after a long wait, I was at the counter. “Hello, choose the hour that’s right for you and we will process the ticket.” I took out twenty shekels and handed them to the clerk and said when I wanted to go to Miron.

I held the ticket tightly in my hand and felt very excited. I had wanted to go to Miron for years, but each year my efforts failed. “You are too young to make such a big trip,” said my mother. And my father said, “Who knows, maybe in a year or two; you have nothing to worry about. You will end up going eventually.”

Those words of consolation did not take away the strong desire I had to go to Miron on Lag B’Omer.

As Lag B’Omer approached, I grew more excited. I pictured the long trip, the many buses climbing up toward the mountain; joining the crowds streaming up; the crowded entrance to the grave of the G-dly Tanna, and of course, the main bonfire with singing and dancing that lasted till dawn.

Finally, today was the day.

Now. It was happening. I rushed to get ready for the trip. I packed a small bag and put in drinks and snacks as though I was going on a two-week adventure. “Why are you taking so much with you?” asked my older sister.

“I can see that you’ve never been to Miron on Lag B’Omer. You don’t need all that; when you get there, you will see the numerous hospitality stands with snacks and drinks.”

Her words fell on deaf ears. True, she had gone to Miron a few times, but I wanted to be sure.

I put my knapsack on my shoulders and said goodbye to my little brothers. Then I rushed for the bus. I wanted to get a good seat and maybe sit next to my friend Shmuli who had also bought a ticket for the same time.

I walked quickly to the central bus station. As the time to leave got closer, I hurried and ran the last block.

Uh oh! I stood frozen in place. A big, black cloud left the station with a roar and a second after it disappeared I saw my bus making its way out of the city.

Tears came to my eyes and I rushed over to the station. “What time are you waiting for?” asked one of the organizers. “Now,” I said.

The organizer looked at me sadly and gestured toward the bus that already left. “You were late,” he stated. “You will have to find another way. The buses leaving in the next hours will be packed.”

The tears in my eyes turned into a torrent that poured down my face. The many preparations, the excitement and anticipation, and then the sight of the bus station and the thought of the bus making its way to Miron without me …

Joyous music coming from a vehicle that stopped nearby got my attention and I stopped crying. On the roof was a bike and the happy songs invited children to a Lag B’Omer parade that would be taking place in a few minutes.

I wiped my eyes and walked over to the vehicle. “Great! Help has arrived!” declared the driver, a Chassidishe man who looked Lubavitch.

“We need help at the parade and here is a Chassidishe boy sent straight from heaven. Can you help us out a bit?”

“Happily,” I said, but my face did not look happy. A second later, I burst again into tears.

The man looked at me kindly and I told him my sad story.

“I understand your disappointment,” he said. “But this is just the time to try and live with Moshiach, when it’s hard.”

“What do you mean?” I asked him.

He said, “When Moshiach comes, the verse says, ‘I thank You Hashem for being angry with me.’ That means, we will thank Him for causing us pain since we will see that the pain itself was for the good. We cannot see how difficulties are good for us now, but we certainly can act as though they are and thank Hashem and move forward.”

I nodded and hoped that if I behaved as one would in Yemos HaMoshiach, and thanked Hashem for what happened, that I would understand what was so good about my missing the bus.

“Now, come and help us for the parade,” said Menashe, the driver. “At the end, you will have a little surprise,” he said with a mysterious smile.

I got into the car and took the microphone attached to the loudspeaker. I addressed children and invited them to join the parade.

The parade began about half an hour later. I stayed near Menashe the entire time and helped out where necessary.

The parade was a success. The last of the children left and only the flames of the bonfire we had lit still remained.

“Now, for the surprise!” exclaimed Menashe with a smile. “We are going to Miron now, in my car.”

“I can’t believe it! You don’t have to do that for me …”

“You have nothing to worry about. As I do every year, I travel to Miron with the person who helped me. We spend all night there with rejoicing and dancing and after Shacharis, return home. You are invited!”

It was only when Shmuli told me how the bus had gotten stuck and how they arrived at Miron in the morning that I understood … “I thank You Hashem for being angry with me.”