“And Sarai said to Avram ‘My theft is on you.’” (Bereishis 16:5)

R

ashi explains Sarah’s grievance: “When you prayed to Hashem to be blessed with children you prayed only for yourself. You should have prayed for both of us; then I would have been blessed together with you.” Sarah’s words require explanation. Indeed even if her grievance was justified it would seem inappropriate to call Avraham Avinu’s lack of prayer a “theft.”

Moreover the Midrash Rabbah explains that at the time of the Mabul not only were thieves punished in the flood but also those who were robbed — since “they screamed too much.” If so it’s quite shocking that Sarah called Avraham Avinu a thief for not including her in his prayers for children.”

Sarah Imeinu was our matriarch a prophetess. Her words are accurate and precise. Hence the question must be asked: Why did she call Avraham’s Avinu’s failure to daven for his wife a robbery and a crime?

We are incapable of appreciating how lack of tefillah can be considered “theft.” Yet Sarah whose level of prophecy surpassed that of Avraham Avinu’s recognized that preventing a good thing from happening to another is indeed theft. (Rav Shach Rosh Amana)

It was one of those hectic mornings. Everyone had already left and I was late for work. Suddenly I spied on the corner of the counter a small bag filled with a sandwich and snack. Oh no! I lifted it sadly. In just three hours my first-grader was going to discover that she had forgotten her lunch. She’d be hungry!

Compassion wheedled its way into my heart as I imagined my little girl sadly rummaging through her knapsack to find the wayward bag. She’ll have to shamefully approach her teacher and whisper that she has nothing to eat today.

I know the outcome. Her teacher and friends will be happy to provide her with food. She’ll manage. She ate breakfast this morning and she’ll eat an early supper as soon as she comes home. But still that lonely sandwich makes my heart ache. There were so many loving thoughts and prayers that accompanied this carefully packed lunch. Now those wishes will remain unrealized.

If one is supposed to pray for another and does not do so it is considered as terrible as stealing! This is the perspective of the Torah so different from the perspective of the world at large. (ibid.)

As you iron your yeshivah bochur’s white shirt you mentally tick off everything that’s already neatly packed inside his suitcase. Suddenly you remember! You forgot to pick up his watch from the jeweler. You frantically look at your own watch to judge if you have time to dash across town to accomplish this errand. It’ll take your whole morning and then he’ll leave rushed and disorganized.

Wait. Think! You can probably find a way to send him his watch in another day or two. But only you can send him off with your tefillos. Only you can find the time to whisper a few heartfelt prayers as you loving pack his clothes. No one else can accomplish this “errand.” The tefillos that you whisper as you iron out those creases in his white Shabbos shirt are imbued with your most profound aspirations dreams and love. They’re lovingly stored in an invisible bag that your son takes along with him to yeshivah. It’s these tefillos that endow him with the strength of character and spiritual fortitude to face the many challenges in his life.

There’s no other woman in the world davening for your son today. There’s no replacement in the world for your prayer on behalf of your child.

Since the Torah revealed to us the magnitude of this concept we are obliged to recognize and internalize its power. For if we have the potential to assist another and do not do so we are guilty not only for withholding assistance but as if we actually stole this from him. (ibid.)

We can return any object. We can always replace tangible items. But those soft loving words that endow self-confidence those supplications for spiritual growth are irreplaceable. It’s those tefillos that only a mother can whisper for her child. No one else can accomplish this.

And what about the compliments that we tell ourselves? Our tefillos for ourselves the well-deserved praise for that bit of chesed that only we know we did?

Who can give that to us?

No one but ourselves.

Don’t steal those precious diamonds from others or from yourself. These words will cause your entire world to glitter with a dazzling radiance. Use them liberally.