I

am always perplexed at this time of the year when we mourn the passing of Rabi Akiva’s students for the somewhat cryptic reason of “lo nahagu kavod zeh lazeh — they didn’t treat each other with proper respect.”

What exactly does that mean? They failed to say good morning to each other?

I was taught by my rebbeim that, whatever the infraction was, it would be unnoticeable by any standard of propriety we have today, imperceptible to us because of our low moral caliber.

I accepted my rebbis’ explanation; however, I also wondered what it means to treat someone with full honor. Knowing that would allow me to properly gauge where Rabi Akiva’s students might possibly have been deficient.

This Pesach I was able to comprehend what it really means to treat your friend with true honor and respect.

A colleague of mine was visiting after Pesach. He brought up the subject of kimcha d’Pischa, the collection and proper distribution of tzedakah funds before Pesach, and related to me the following:

A young married man with many children came to him before Pesach with his annual kimcha d’Pischa contribution.

He handed the money to the rav and then stood there for a moment as if contemplating a difficult sh’eilah. He then took more money from a different pocket and said, “Please also accept this. Perhaps someone needs a new suit for Yom Tov.”

The rav was somewhat perplexed and decided to keep this second donation apart from the regular funds.

Fast-forward to a week later.

The rav has distributed the kimcha d’Pischa funds. Surprisingly, one of the women in the kehillah calls him that night and says, “Thank you for your help in making Pesach. Baruch Hashem, our pantry is full. However, there is just one thing. My husband, who learns diligently throughout the year, doesn’t have a proper suit for Pesach. I would love for him to have a new suit for Yom Tov.”

The rav was about to tell her that he had nothing to give when suddenly he recalled the money he had placed aside.

It was exactly the amount of money needed to purchase a new suit.

On Yom Tov the rav felt joy at seeing the kollelman in his brand-new suit. And as the rav was scanning the shul, he also noticed the fellow who had given him the money. The rav couldn’t help noticing that the donor’s suit was at least four sizes too large for him and hung on him with the look of a ten-year-old boy wearing his father’s suit.

After davening, the rav approached the donor’s wife. “You know, your husband could use a new suit for Yom Tov.”

The wife said to the rav, who was also a friend of the family, “I gave him money to purchase a new suit. In fact, he was supposed to go directly to the suit store from the rav’s house after giving kimcha d’Pischa. I even made him place that money in a different pocket!”

Suddenly, the rav realized what had happened.

The woman’s husband thought more about the kavod of his friend than he thought of his own. He gave up the money for his new suit so that someone whose wife would be embarrassed should have the honor of wearing new suit.

He was truly “noheg kavod,” showing total and complete honor to his friend.

All was good. Hashem’s mitzvos are truly wonderful. A kollelman had a new suit. And I realized what true respect and honor for your friend means.

I am even tempted to reveal the identity of the secret benefactor; however, my son would be highly embarrassed if I disclosed his name.

All I can say is that there are five potential heroes; and in my mind each of them is a qualified candidate.

 Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 707)