“Thank you so much, Yitzy,” said Mr. Greenbaum. “By helping me now, you are doing a big chesed. I am happy to see that you are growing into a fine young ben Torah.”

“Oh… thank you,” Yitzy stammered.

Just then, the door to Levinson apartment opened.

Rabbi Levinson was leaving. He immediately noticed Yitzy walking with a limping Mr. Greenbaum.

“Oy,” he said. “What happened? Are you okay, Mr. Greenbaum?”

Mr. Greenbaum smiled. “Baruch Hashem, everything is fine,” answered Mr. Greenbaum. “I tripped over my shoelace, and Hashem sent your Yitzy to help me get up and walk me home.”

“Do you want me to call Hatzolah?” asked a concerned Rabbi Levinson.

“No, no,” answered Mr. Greenbaum, “I’m fine, baruch Hashem. I just bruised my knee a little, but I’ll be okay.”

“You’re probably going to need to put ice on that knee,” said Rabbi Levinson. “I’ll run into my apartment and get an ice pack.”

Rabbi Levinson ran back into his apartment and quickly returned, holding an ice pack. He noticed that Mr. Greenbaum was struggling to get his apartment key out of his pocket while keeping his balance.

Rabbi Levinson ran over to the old man. “Mr. Greenbaum,” he said, while holding out his hand. “Please give me your key and let me open the door for you.”

Mr. Greenbaum hesitated. It looked like he really didn’t want anyone to come into his apartment.

“No, no,” he stammered. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I can do it by myself.” Mr. Greenbaum stuck his hand deep into his coat pocket. He pulled out a key and began lifting his hand toward the lock on the door. “Oooh,” he moaned.

The old man looked down at his knee. It was really hurting badly now, and as he lifted his hand toward the lock, he put more weight on his knee. “Okay,” he sighed, “I guess I do need a little help. Here’s my key, Rabbi Levinson. Please open the door for me.”

Rabbi Levinson took the key and turned it in the lock.

Yitzy was very curious. He had passed this apartment thousands of times in his life and had often wondered what Mr. Greenbaum’s home looked like. He had imagined it to be very dusty, full of old, broken furniture. Now he would be going inside.

With a loud creak the door swung open.

The apartment was dark.

While leaning against Yitzy for support, Mr. Greenbaum reached inside and flipped on the light switch. Yitzy had been right. The apartment was full of old furniture. He was happy to see that the furniture was not dusty at all. The apartment was surprisingly neat and clean. The walls were covered with black and white pictures. Yitzy guessed the pictures showed members of Mr. Greenbaum’s family.

“Hurry, Yitzy,” urged Rabbi Levinson. “Help Mr. Greenbaum over to the couch. He needs to rest his leg and get this ice pack on his knee.”

As carefully as he could, Yitzy helped the old man maneuver over to the couch and gently sit down.

Rabbi Levinson looked at Mr. Greenbaum’s knee.

“You’d better keep that leg raised, so it doesn’t get swollen,” he said. He found an old stool and brought it over to the couch. Mr. Greenbaum gently lifted his leg and rested his foot on the stool. Then Rabbi Levinson handed him the ice pack, which he placed on his knee.

Rabbi Levinson turned to his son.

“Yitzy,” he said, “It looks to me like Mr. Greenbaum could use a bowl of your mother’s chicken soup.”

“I’ll go get it,” Yitzy volunteered.

Rabbi Levinson thought about that. “No, Yitzy,” he said. “Your mother’s chicken soup is very hot. You’re too young to be running around with it. You stay here with Mr. Greenbaum and I’ll go get the soup.”

Mr. Greenbaum’s face turned red.

“No! No! No!” he cried angrily. “I do not want chicken soup, and I do not want company. Rabbi Levinson and Yitzy, I want you to leave my apartment right now. If you don’t leave my apartment immediately,” he roared, “I will call the police to make you leave!”

“Uh oh!” cried Yitzy.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha Jr., Issue 740)