Who’s the Parent?

Dov and Sara were excellent parents and wonderful hosts.

Their Shabbos table was always crowded with guests, from elderly couples who enjoyed their company to singles who needed a meal.

Ephraim was one of their regulars.

He would frequent Dov and Sara’s home for the Shabbos day seudah every few weeks.

He knew all the children’s names, their favorite foods, and even those dishes they didn’t particularly like.

He even knew the names of some of the children’s playmates, as Moishele, the rambunctious eight-year-old, often said, “I’m going to Shmuli’s house, can anyone walk me?”

One Shabbos afternoon, Moishele once again announced, “Time for my Shabbos playdate with Shmuli, who can walk me?”

But this time, his request was met with silence.

Dov and Sara were exhausted after spending the night with a colicky newborn, and both of Moishele’s older sisters were away on their school Shabbos.

The tired parents looked at Moishele and told him calmly yet firmly, “We’re sorry, Moishele, however, this Shabbos you’ll have to stay home as there is no one to walk you.”

Moishele pleaded with his parents to walk him, but when he saw that he was not getting any response, he switched tactics and declared, “I don’t need anyone to walk me. I’m eight years old and I can walk there myself.”

Sara looked at her husband as they silently communicated.

They then both said, almost in unison, “We understand you’re upset. However, you’re not old enough to walk by yourself yet.”

With that, everyone at the table considered the topic closed and proceeded to bentsh. Everyone, that is, except Ephraim.

Without hesitation — and apparently clueless that he was out of line — Ephraim announced, “You know, I think Moishele is old enough to cross Passaic Avenue. I think you can let him go himself.”

A stunned silence ensued, as if a glass goblet had suddenly shattered.

In fact, Moishele himself looked up from his half-eaten bowl of cholent with a look of disbelief on his face.

Unbelievably, Ephraim himself kept devouring his potato kugel, oblivious to the enormity of his faux pas.

In between bites of kugel, he seconded his own recommendation, “I really do think you should let Moishlele walk to Shmuli by himself.”

Needless to say, Moishele did not go to Shmuli on his own, and both Dov and Sara were left shaking their heads at what was hopefully a one-time, innocent intrusion into their parenting skills.

We can only hope that Ephraim somehow realized how inappropriate his comments were.

Lesson Learned: Don’t Interfere

A guest should never, ever, interfere with the host’s parenting of their children.

Guest Speaker

This incident occurred at my house almost 25 years ago, and I’m sure the “culprit” will not recognize himself, so here comes the story of “The guest whose devar Torah never ended.”

My children were younger, and my wife and I had our hands full as we tried to be the perfect rabbi and rebbetzin, hosting guests while also making the Shabbos table enjoyable for our own children.

Many guests feel they must prepare a solid devar Torah for the rabbi’s table.

This is untrue, and no one should ever feel that they have to perform at my table or prepare a mini-sermon to deliver.

Of course, everyone appreciates a nice short vort on the parshah; however, nothing could have prepared our family for what I will call “rambling with Reuven.”

Reuven Stillberger was no doubt a frustrated public speaker.

Or perhaps in a different gilgul, he had not shared his Torah as publicly as he would have liked to.

Whatever the reason, “rambling Reuven” always came prepared with a page-long devar Torah whenever he was a guest at our table.

Often, his prepared words were a tad too long and somewhat taxing on the listeners, but for the most part, they were bearable.

That was until the famous Shabbos of parshas Korach, the Shabbos that will go down in my family annals as Shabbos Devar Torah — which never ended.

It was Friday night, and my wife had just served the soup.

Everyone was vying for the Osem soup nuts when Reuven announced, “I have a special devar Torah in honor of parshas Korach, which I wrote myself.”

We all politely paused as Reuven began to speak.

However, he continued speaking and speaking even as the soup grew cold, the soup nuts became soggy, and everyone grew antsy.

Reuven was not even deterred when the elderly George Finkelberg, another one of our guests, began to snore.

He kept speaking about Korach — more about Korach, and so much about Korach that, to this day, even the mention of Korach at my Shabbos table evokes a smirk, if not an outright chuckle.

Reuven was oblivious to the fact that by the time he finished, 30 minutes later, I was the only one left at the table.

Everyone else was either reading or playing a game, or in the kitchen.

Yet, as Reuven finished his 30-minute monologue, he sat down triumphantly.

I gave him a hearty yasher koach and thanked him for his devar Torah.

I never let on that his devar Torah was too long or that he had lost most of his audience.

However, after that, I began to run my Shabbos table a bit more strictly, ensuring that the children were always allowed to take center stage.

Lesson Learned: Maintain Priorities

• For the host: Every family has the right to run its Shabbos table as it sees fit. The priority should be the family.
• A lesson for the guest: A short, less than five-minute devar Torah is often appreciated. However, be mindful of your host and never attempt to be the MC at someone else’s Shabbos table.

Healthy Choices

GCP (Granola Crunchy Person) is a term for someone with a lifestyle characterized by environmental awareness and a preference for natural and alternative products.

As Passaic is a community with so many beautiful and sincere people from so many diverse backgrounds, it’s not uncommon to find a person who is extremely careful about the processing and healthfulness of their food.

With that introduction, we begin our tale (with identities so carefully camouflaged that even the protagonist herself would not recognize herself).

Our GCP is Fruma-Sorah, and she is eating this Shabbos at the home of Shloimy and Baila Greinsteiner, both originally from Boro Park.

Both were also raised on real, genuine schmaltz.

For those who don’t know, schmaltz is rendered chicken fat, used like any cooking oil.

Their respective Shabbos tables in their parents’ homes were laden with both potato and lukshen kugel, cholent, kishke, plenty of gribenes, and a healthy serving of p’tcha, chopped eggs, and liver.

And although Baila has made some changes to her recipes (she began using a bit of whole wheat flour in her challah dough), the meal was heavy on cholent, kugel, and kishke.

Fruma-Sorah was doing her best to manage with the semi-whole wheat challah and the cut-up vegetables that Baila had prepared especially for her guest.

However, what happened when the drinks were served was something Shloimy and Baila could never have predicted in their wildest imagination.

As soon as the cholent was brought out, Menachem Mendel, their oldest son, quickly went to get the drinks, as he did every week. He happily delivered bottles of regular and diet Coke, along with Fanta and orange soda, which was his personal favorite.

At the first sight of the Coke, Fruma-Sora stood up and announced in a Trumpian style of self-assurance, How can you serve that poisonous drink called Coke? Don’t you know that Coke provides empty calories, lacks nutritional value, and can contribute to fat accumulation, high blood pressure, unhealthy cholesterol levels, and inflammation?”

As the family sat in stunned silence, six-year-old Baruch broke the uncomfortable stillness, saying, “Can I still please have my Shabbos soda now?”

Thankfully, the table erupted into laughter at Baruch’s unintended yet perfectly timed rejoinder as Fruma-Sorah relaxed back into her seat and Baruch had his Shabbos Coke.

Lesson Learned: Keep It to Yourself

While many of us can certainly sympathize with Fruma Sorah’s concern about the beverages served (water is still the best), we can agree that publicly critiquing the families’ beverage choice was certainly ill-timed and inappropriate. Needless to say, that Shabbos meal was a one-and-done event for both the host and the guest.

The Guest Who Never Left

When Leibel G. first called me and asked if I could set him up with Shabbos meals, I was initially thrilled.

After all, I am always worried about those people in the community who “fall through the cracks.”

Often, these are single men who are embarrassed to ask for invitations. Most men don’t usually pick up on cues as quickly as women, leaving these singles without a Shabbos meal.

Many families ask me to call them if I ever need someone to host a guest.

Therefore, when Leibel informed me that he was having a hard time finding meals, I sprang into action and called some of the most reliable last-minute hosts in the neighborhood.

I was just a little worried about why Leibel was having a hard time, as he was certainly not a quiet fellow and made no secret of his desire to be invited out.

I called the Goldsteins, and Leibel went there for two Shabbos meals two weeks in a row.

However, when he came back to me before week three and said he needed an invite again, I wondered if there was more to Leibel than met the eye.

I called the Goldsteins, who were hesitant to say anything more than, “It just won’t work for us to host him this week.”

However, the next morning in shul, Dovid Goldstein asked to speak with me privately.

Haltingly, he told me why they could no longer host Leibel.

Basically, Dovid explained, Leibel was the guest who never left.

I asked him to elaborate, as I needed to understand the situation.

Dovid recounted how the last two weeks with Leibel had gone.

The meals were fine. Leibel made appropriate conversation and was very pleasant to be with.

The problem began after the meal ended. When I asked for more details, Dovid explained, “Well, we finished bentshing, my wife and I cleared the table, and we were planning to go upstairs and take a nap. The children had gone off to the playroom, and it looked like we would have a quiet Shabbos afternoon. But that’s not what happened. After the meal, Leibel plopped down on the couch, picked up a magazine, and began reading. When I asked if he needed anything, he replied, ‘Oh, no, I’m fine. If you’re already asking though, a cold seltzer and some chips would be great. And if you have another couple of those chocolate rugelach, that would be perfect.’

“After supplying Leibel with his afternoon snack, he announced, ‘Hey, anyone up for a game of Rummikub?’ And even after we indulged him in a few rounds of the game, and my wife excused herself to go upstairs, and I announced, ‘that’s a great idea,’ Leibel stayed put on the couch. He confidently said, ‘Please take a rest, I am just going to finish this article, and soon I’ll be on my way.’

“Well, two hours later, when my wife and I came down and I had to head out for the Daf, Leibel was stretched out on our couch, snoring away! This didn’t only happen the first Shabbos. He did an encore performance the second Shabbos he was here. I’m sorry, Rabbi, but we can’t host a guest who doesn’t know when to leave.”

In this case, I was able to speak with Leibel and explain proper host/guest boundaries.

Lesson Learned: Respect your host’s privacy

Be careful never to overstay your welcome.

How to Be a Good Host

There are a number of pointers that a host should know about as well.

Unfortunately, I learned most of these the hard way, usually because I did exactly what I’m telling you not to do.

Let’s call them the Ten Habits of Highly Effective Hosts:

1. You are the host, and you offer your guests food; however, never attempt to force-feed anyone. Comments like, “Oh, you must try my broccoli quiche — I’m sure you’ll love it!” are to be avoided. Offer your guests food but never demand that they eat it.
2. Never look at the guest’s plate and comment on what they are eating or not eating. No one appreciates a comment such as, “Is there something the matter with my p’tcha? I see you barely touched it.” So too, comments like, “I can see you’re really a cholent lover, you finished your entire serving already,” are guaranteed to make your guest feel quite uncomfortable.
3. Never place food on a guest’s plate. What is a guest who is limiting their carb intake to do if they are served a large slice of Yerushalmi kugel? Let the guest take what they want.
4. Regarding conversation, remember that you invited your guest to enjoy their meal; they are not at your house to give a deposition. No guest wants to be put on the witness stand. Repeated and invasive questions only make your guest feel uncomfortable and defensive.
5. If you ask your guest, “What do you do?” And they reply, “I am between jobs,” don’t make the mistake I did and ask, “Oh, how long have you been between jobs?” The guest looked down, and thoroughly embarrassed, answered, “About eleven years.” Be interested in the guest; however, never make them feel like they are under cross-examination.
6. When you ask a person, “Where are you from?” and they reply “South Dakota,” maybe drop the subject. Follow-up questions such as, “Oh, I didn’t know there were frum Jews in South Dakota” may force your guests to reveal their past, which is most often either a non-observant or non-Jewish life. This is a subject that many guests may not feel comfortable discussing at the Shabbos table.
7. Better to avoid topics that are not only not Shabbosdig, but can also elicit strong emotional reactions. Politics and the like certainly do not help hosts and guests feel at ease and at peace. You did not invite your guest to help solve all the world’s problems.
8. Avoid asking your guest, “What’s your favorite version of Kah Ribbon? How about you begin the niggun?” Unless you know your guest is a zemiros singer, don’t have them audition at your Shabbos table.
9. Never ask the guest, “Nu, what did you think of the rabbi’s derashah today?” That’s surely a topic that can lead to answers you may not want to hear.
10. Remember, you were once a guest, too. Do you remember how you felt having every move was scrutinized and digested along with the food? Be sensitive to your guest.

The Best Guest

I was once privileged to share a meal with Rav Shmuel Kamenetsky.

There was the host, Rav Shmuel, and me.

It was an unplanned event, as Rav Shmuel was in New York unexpectedly, and a very quick meal was arranged for him.

Besides the fact that Rav Shmuel engaged all of us in regular, normal conversation, what I most remember about the meal (this was in 1993) was not the divrei Torah.

Rather, what has stayed with me for the last 32 years is not just how Rav Shmuel clearly enjoyed all the food, but the way he thanked and praised the host’s wife, who had hastily prepared the meal.

The fact that Rav Shmuel was effusive in his praise of the food was a lesson in itself.

Yet I would not have expected any less.

However, he did much more than just compliment the hostess.

He inquired, in a most inquisitive and genuinely interested manner, about how she had prepared the fish, which was the main course.

I can recall him saying, “The sauce you baked the fish in, I tasted a bit of mustard in it. Was there some mustard mixed in it? It was so delicious, I must have my wife call you for the recipe.”

The glow on the hostess’s face lit up the entire room.

The memory of that special meal and my hands-on lesson in being a good guest has remained with me for over three decades.

May we all be privileged to make our guests feel at home — and may our guests be privileged to allow their hosts to equally feel at home.

All names and identifying details have been changed.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1086)