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| Parshah |

Tied to Time

The zechus of consistency: “They are those who seek Me daily”

 

“This is the fire offering you shall offer to Hashem: two unblemished lambs in their first year, each day, as a continual burnt offering.” (Bamidbar 28:3)

 

The Midrash says the word keves, lamb, shares the same root as l’kaves, to launder. The power of the Korban Tamid lay in its ability to make us as clean of sins as a one-year-old baby. What distinguished the Korban Tamid from other korbanos? (Rav Shalom Meir Wallach, Maayan Hashavua)

Tali was a character. The minute she entered my classroom, a mane of golden curls, pert freckled nose, dancing eyes, and cheeky grin, I grinned inwardly myself. This one was going to be a challenge. She didn’t disappoint.

I quickly discovered she was brilliant, talented, and fifed only to her own tune. She didn’t take a stitch of notes, but aced every test.

With the school performance, she was part of drama, scenery, costumes, and props, and was never where she was supposed to be.

During drama practice I found her elbow-deep in finger-painting scenery, totally ignoring the sketched lines. An hour later she was busily sewing a pirate’s costume. Keeping up with Tali was like chasing a tornado.

The Korban Tamid’s power lies in its name: tamid, always. Frequently and continually, morning and evening, without fail. Skipping even one day would destroy the power of its consistency.

Over the next few years, Tali bounced in and out of my classroom, her sunny spirit and interminable energy always a source of enjoyment. Yet I also saw maturity developing. We’d often sit, long after class was over, discussing hashkafah. She was brutally honest about herself and blunt in her assessments.

“The one thing I can’t do is be tied down to time.” She flung her hand, decorated with several rings, in a large arc to encompass the whole universe in that sphere of detestable time. “I need to do things how, where, and when I want to. Otherwise I’m suffocated.”

“You have tremendous talents, Tali, and Yiddishkeit’s all for developing talents. But at the same time, there’s a huge element of time within avodas Hashem. Being out-of-the-box is generally a wonderful thing as long as you realize that halachah is a constant box around us, and we need to stay within its parameters.”

She listened intently. I wondered if she’d be able to accept what she viewed as a curtailment of her creativity.

Rabi Preida lived 400 years. They asked him (Eiruvin 54b), “How did you merit long life?” He answered, “All my days, no one ever came before me to the beis medrash.”

They asked Rabi Nechunya ben Hakana the same question and he answered, “All my days, I never went to sleep without forgiving everyone.”

Rabi Akiva asked Rabi Nechunya Hagadol, who answered, “All my days, I never accepted presents.”

Rabi Yochanan ben Zakah said, “All my days, I never spoke worthless speech.”

When they asked Kimchis why she merited seven sons, all Kohanim Gedolim, she answered (Yoma 47a), “All my days, the walls of my house never saw my hair.”

What’s the common denominator among their answers? All my days!

To be able to say with conviction that not a day passed without fulfillment of a particular mitzvah, that’s the zechus of consistency! About such people Yeshayah Hanavi says (58:2): “They are those who seek Me daily.”

After I got married, I lost track of Tali. But at a recent Jewish publishing convention, I bumped into a colleague who ran a frum marketing business. We schmoozed over coffee and croissants and played catch-up on various contemporaries.

“You know who works for me? Tali Schechter. Apparently you taught her years ago.”

“Tali? What’s she doing for you?” I pictured her elbow-deep in finger-paint in the midst of a streamlined corporate office.

“She’s manager of our graphics team. That girl’s amazing!”

“She always was creative,” I agreed.

“I’m not just talking about creativity. Plenty of creative people in our line of business. But Tali, she’s a straight-shooter, handling people, details, and never missing deadlines, daily. Plus, she’s married to a huge masmid!”

Tali? My out-of-the-polygon Tali?

“Do you know, in the years she’s worked for me, she’s never been late or taken a personal day off? Now that’s someone I can count on.”

I beamed with nachas, remembering a younger Tali, her eyes brimming with potential. Apparently she learned how to dance within the lines.

Now that’s a timeless talent.

 (Originally featured in Family First, Issue 652)

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