Hashem wanted us to realize that there’s value in the flowers and buds, not only in the fruit that follows it

“And the next morning… the staff of Aharon, of Beis Levi, had blossomed. It produced a blossom, sprouted a bud, and had grown almonds.”

(Bamidbar 17:23)

After Korach’s rebellion, Hashem told Moshe to prove to Klal Yisrael that He had singled out Shevet Levi to serve Him. Every shevet put a staff in the Ohel Moed. The next morning, they saw that only the staff of Levi had blossomed.

Normally, first a plant buds, then flowers, and then the flowers fall off as it produces fruit. Yet Levi’s staff had buds, flowers, and fully developed fruit all at once, compounding the incredible miracle (Rabbi Eliyahu Hoffmann, Olas Shabbos).

I dream of an almond tree — the first fruit trees to bud, their pink flowers herald spring’s arrival. My garden is brown and boggy after the rainy season, and I want an almond tree there, whispering its promise of the color soon to come.

I picked the perfect spot in the garden, but that’s as far as I got. Every year, Tu B’Shevat time, I’d remember that I really want to plant an almond tree!

Rav Moshe Feinstein teaches that Hashem wanted us to realize that there’s value in the flowers and buds, not only in the fruit that follows it. Normally, we judge the success of our work by the fruit it bears, not the process. Not so, however, with Torah and mitzvos.

The buds and flowers — the effort we put into the mitzvah, the time, preparation, energy, and enthusiasm — are just as important as the final fruit, the mitzvah itself. At times, one may expend great effort to learn Torah or do a mitzvah, and in the end fail to achieve one’s goal.

But while we may think our efforts were for naught, it’s imperative that we remember that it’s not so. Our attempts to perform a mitzvah bring Hashem great pleasure.

I was so proud of myself when I remembered my almond tree before Tu B’Shevat this year. But when I went to our local nursery, they didn’t have any.

Undeterred, a few days later, I went to a larger nursery that stocks hundreds of trees. No luck.

Disappointed, I resigned myself to waiting another year.

Next year… I promised the empty spot in the ground. Next year, I comforted myself, I would surely see my dream flower.

Why did the Torah choose to teach us the value of the “flowers and buds” specifically here, in the aftermath of Korach’s rebellion?

Perhaps part of Korach’s fatal miscalculation was that he was too focused on the end result. He claimed: “The entire assembly — all of them — are holy; so why do you elevate yourselves over the congregation of Hashem?” (ibid. 16:3).

Rashi explains that Korach’s objection was that we all witnessed Maamad Har Sinai.

Strictly speaking, Korach was right; there was no essential difference between Moshe’s experience at Har Sinai and that of the rest of the nation. They all heard Hashem’s word directly, without any intermediary. The end result — the fruit — was the same for all.

Yet Moshe had essentially been working up to this moment his entire life. His fruits at Sinai were budded, flowered, and blossomed — the results of hard work. Those of the Klal were a gift, fully developed without the preceding efforts.

Contemporary culture idealizes instant results and minimal effort, but we must remember the inestimable value of effort, the “buds and flowers” of our mitzvos, and not be seduced by the lure of flowerless-fruits.

Yitzi shares my love for the garden and he often putters about there. One evening I noticed him digging in my almond tree’s designated spot.

“What are you doing there, Yitzi?”

“Planting tomatoes,” he answered.

“Tomatoes?” I was thrown. I don’t grow veggies in my garden. That’s what the store is for. I want color on my land.

“But that’s the spot for my almond tree!” I said, wincing at how possessive I sounded. “Besides, where’d you buy tomato seeds?”

“I didn’t,” he reassured me. “I’m planting a whole tomato.”

I relaxed. A whole tomato would never sprout, and the spot would still be waiting for my almond tree next year.

I was wrong. I should’ve figured that regular rules don’t apply to Yitzi.

We’re enjoying his huge harvest of tomatoes, the product of much loving care on his part. And I’m shelving my dream of an almond tree for now. Because I can watch Yitzi blossoming all year round.

 (Originally featured in Family First, Issue 848)