Never just a story....והגדת לבנך...And you shall tell your son… (Shemos 13:8)

The following is a story from Rabbi Fischel Schachter whom I've started listening to a little while back on http://www.torahanytime.com/  והגדת לבנך And you shall tell your son… (Shemos 13:8) Rabbi Fischel Schachter tells the following story: As my career as a rabbi began with storytelling, I would travel from school to school and captivate the hearts and minds of children. Usually enthralling and exciting, the stories were well liked and attended by many children. However, there was one particular time when matters went awry. I had told a particular story in about fifteen other locations, but this time for some reason the children were not interested. One of the kids in fact began to sarcastically and facetiously shout every so often, “Ha-ha-ha! That’s so funny…” Sooner than later, many of the other children as well caught on to the rude laughter of the child and in unison shouted, “Ha-ha-ha! That’s so funny…” They were clearly having a better time repeating this line than listening to my story.

However, it suddenly hit me.

As I stood there with a half an hour remaining to speak without any other teacher in the room, I began to think to myself, “My storytelling career is over.” I considered at one point facing the children and saying, “You are a bunch ofmechutzafim (impolite children)!” but I figured that it would not go over too well. Then I thought about storming out of the room and making a scene. However, it suddenly hit me. I began to think, “Listen to yourself. You are angry at the kids, angry at the principal and basically angry at everybody. There is only one person you are not frustrated with: yourself. Maybe Hashem wants something from you right now?” And so, needing to think quickly, I realized that perhaps for some reason Hashem was indirectly telling me to switch the story. And so I did. I remember having heard a story that very day from Rabbi Boruch Rabinowitz, principal of the school Torah V’Daas, about Rabbi Yaakov Meir Shechter. Taking a deep breath in and hoping for the best, I began telling the kids the following episode: Rav Yaakov Meir is blessed with many children. Unfortunately, however, many of them are not well. In particular, his daughter is very sick both physically and emotionally, and must be detained to a wheelchair. With an unpromising future, she was depressed and dispirited. One day, Rav Yaakov Meir decided to take his daughter up high in the mountains in Ramat Shlomo. As he pushed her along and she took in the breathtaking sight surrounding her, she turned to her father and asked, “Tatti(father), do you love me? “Of course I do,” Rav Yaakov Meir replied. “Do you love me more than anything else in the world?” she persisted. “Yes, I really do.” “Will you do anything for me?” she asked again. “Yes, I will do anything possible for you,” he answered. “If that is so,” continued his daughter, “I want you to push me off the cliff. I am in pain and depressed. There is no hope for my life. Push me off the cliff; my life is full of misery.” Looking down at his daughter, Rav Yaakov Meir said, “I cannot do that.” “Why not?” she sternly asked. “You said you will do anything for me!” “It is true that I said I love you,” explained her father, “but my love pales in comparison to the love Hashem has for you. And if Hashem loves you that much, I cannot let my love get in the way of His. Right now He is giving you a heart which is beating and lungs which are letting you breathe. He clearly loves you dearly.” As I finished relating this story, I left the room. The principal, noting my departure and hearing the story I had just told over, turned to me and said, “We called you for Chanukah; not for Tisha B’av.” But I wasn’t going to explain myself, and so I continued on home. Later that night, the phone rang. It was a parent of one of the children from the school. Thinking to myself that I will most certainly be told, “How could you have said such a story? My child cannot go to sleep at night! I was also a rascal when I was a kid and I still ended up alright!” I prepared myself to hear a long-winded speech. But it was nothing of that nature. The father said, “I want to thank you very much.” I wasn’t sure if I heard him correctly, until he explained what he meant: I also have a similar situation at home with a child who is not well. All my other children are taking it very hard, forcing them to go to therapy and express their feelings. I have one son, however, who does not talk at all. He doesn’t say a word. He is the most depressed about the situation of all the siblings. Today, however, when he came home, he said to me, “I want to tell you a story.” He proceeded to tell me the story you related today, and then asked me, “Does Hashem love our sister?” I assured him that Hashem loves her dearly, putting him at ease. It was the first time we had a healthy conversation in a long while. Rabbi, I cannot thank you enough. You have helped my son and our family immensely.” As I listened to this father speak, I knew there was a reason my first story did not go over well. Hashem wished for me to tell this other story and change the life of a young child. The father concluded by asking me, “How did you know by looking at the kids which story to tell? You did a great job!” “Experience,” I said as I let out a smile; “it’s all experience.” Sometimes we will be thrown a challenge in life which seems overwhelming and impossible to handle. It may be a child misbehaving or difficulties at home. But we would be wise to realize that at that very moment Hashem is speaking to us. He is telling us, “You can do this! You can overcome this situation!” And believe it or not, when we muster the strength to deal with whatever faces us, the results we produce may be more than ever expected. Instead of just telling another great story, we tell a life-changing story.