P arshas Tazria-Metzora

“And the person to be cleansed shall take two live clean birds a cedar stick a strip of crimson [wool] and hyssop.” (Vayikra 14:4)

Rashi says he takes cedar wood to symbolize his arrogance and hyssop to humble himself.

However why should cedar wood — symbolizing his arrogance — be part of his penance?

It’s essential that his humility come about by recognizing that he was arrogant. He thought he was “something” and had what to be proud of but this shows him that he was actually “nothing” — he was low like a worm [based on the literal translation of “tolaas-strip of crimson”]. A person must realize that everything’s from Hashem and if he’s missing this essential knowledge then all is worthless. (Sfas Emes al HaTorah)

“Try drawing an apple.” Chaya and I were lazing around the bunkhouse enjoying a quiet hour before night activity.

“You know I can’t!” I shoved the pencil away.

“C’mon anyone can draw!” She wasn’t giving in so easily. “You’re creative. Just draw an apple.”

“Creativity has nothing to do with it!” But I picked up the pencil she stuck in my face. Clenching my teeth I concentrated on sketching an apple. “There!” Staring down at my sketch I was pretty proud of myself. “How do you like them apples?”

Glancing over my shoulder Chaya frowned. “I told you to draw an apple! What’s that?”

So I can’t draw. And I’m not embarrassed to admit it. It’s just one of those things.

My friend Esti is super-talented the type who can whip up miniatures for a kiddush organize and lay out a lavish Chanukah party and create mishloach manos that look as heavenly as they taste.

One evening we were at a simchah together and I asked her to jot down a recipe for me. Immediately she started rattling off ingredients. “I’m never going to remember that. Just scribble it down for me on a napkin ” I said and pushed a pen across the table.

“Write it down?” She sounded so shocked I was sure I’d offended her. “I can’t write these things in words!”

To each his own.

We say in davening: “He lowers those elevated and raises those low .” Rav Simcha Bunim of Peshis’cha asked: Since Hashem uplifts the downtrodden why make them low in the first place? Furthermore why lower those who are elevated?

He explained that even when a person is elevated he needs to realize that in reality he’s low. Success is only from Hashem and it’s through this recognition that Hashem allows him to rise.

Similarly Yirmiyahu Hanavi says (9:22): “Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom nor the strong man boast of his strength nor the rich man boast of his riches.” (ibid.)

I distinctly remember getting back a Chumash test in junior high. “Omigosh!” I was thrilled as my teacher handed me my test and I saw my mark. “And I didn’t even study!”

“So what are you proud of?” she asked.

Got me there. If I naturally have a good memory am naturally creative naturally serve seven course dinners (I don’t!) and it all comes naturally then what exactly do I have to be proud of?

The Zohar tells us that a big person is really small. Whoever knows that everything is from Hashem and lives according to this principle is truly great.

A person must beware of false humility. We see that Moshe Rabbeinu was extremely humble but he certainly knew that he was the source of the knowledge of all Yisrael. Yet because he knew it all came from Hashem he excelled in humility.

Still there’s obviously part of every person’s lifework that’s his own. That part is his will to work — the efforts he puts into each action. Beyond that success comes from Above. (ibid.)

This past Motzaei Shabbos was one of those nights. The after-Pesach mode still lingered. Everyone was cranky and facing the first full week of school after Pesach vacation wasn’t an incentive for bedtime for any of the kiddies.

By the time everything was quiet I looked around my messy kitchen and decided that no one would care if I took care of it tomorrow. After all there were only a few more hours till tomorrow.

On second thought would absolutely no one care? It’s not too appetizing to eat breakfast with the dried-out cholent pot in the background. And it’s no fun to make lunches when you’re searching for bread among leftover challah while the school bus is honking.

So… I guess somebody does care if I do it tonight.

An hour later the kitchen gleamed. Gotta admit — I was pretty proud of myself. (Originally featured in Family First Issue 539)