The Short Vort by Rabbi Eisenman

The war has taken a terrible toll on the Jewish people.

The loss of the precious Neshomos of those killed on Simchas Torah and the brave soldiers who give their lives Al Kiddush Hashem are the most painful of the sacrifices made by the people of Israel.

Yet, during these more than six months of the war, there have been many difficulties faced by simple people in Israel in their daily quest to support their families.

Shlomo Tal* is one of those.

Shlomo is a local caterer in Yerushalayim.

He was able to carve out a niche specializing in providing delicious home-cooked meals for Chareidi Jews visiting Eretz Yisroel.

He caters Shabbos meals and Sheva Brochus for families from the United States who are spending Shabbos in a rented villa and do not want to be bothered with cooking.

Unfortunately, his business has been almost nonexistent since the war began, as tourism has dried up and few families are visiting.

(If you have not finalized your summer plans, why not go to Israel? It's a lot safer than NYC or LA)

You can imagine his joy and feeling of Hashgach Protis when, one recent Thursday, he received a call from a well-to-do Askan from America who offered him to cater Shabbos for forty people in honor of a Shabbos Bris.

"I know it's last minute," the proud grandfather said. "However, I don't want you to spare any expense. I know how hard it has been for you, and this is my first grandson, so I want everything to be at the top of the line."

Shlomo could not believe his good Mazel.

He kept thinking, I can't believe this gift from Hashem. I am asked to cater three full meals for forty people, and everything must be the best. This would cover many of the unpaid bills piling up by the day.

He thanked Hashem profusely.

.Although he only had twenty-four hours to put it all together, he was confident that by working through Thursday night and all day Friday, he could accomplish the task with a great deal of Siyata D'Shemaya.

It was seven in the evening when he told his wife the good news.

She told him to say good night to the kids and get to work in his kitchen.

As he said good night to his twelve-year-old son Meir, the boy smiled and said, "Good Night, Abba. I can't wait to go with you to Kever Rochel tomorrow. I am so happy that I asked for that for my Afikomen present. Just me and you, Abba, just the two of us getting a chance to daven at Kever Rochel without distractions!"

Shlomo's face paled.

How had he forgotten his promise on Seder night to take Meir on Friday Rosh Chodesh Sivan- a special day for davening- to Kever Rochel?

As he was about to tell Meir his plans had changed, he noticed the white shirt and clean pants Meir had set aside for the grand excursion. He looked into his son's eyes and saw the anticipation, joy, and yearning the boy possessed for the much-expected outing.

"Abba, this will be the best Afikomen present I ever had. Spending four hours alone with you! I can't wait until tomorrow!"

Shlomo kissed his son good night, left the room, and knew what he had to do.

He opened his flip phone and called his now-about-to-be-former-client.

Yet, all did not go smoothly. The man was very persuasive and forceful. "Reb Shlomo, I know it was last minute, so I will pay you double whatever your price would have been. What's the issue? I am not asking you to work on Shabbos; I just need you to supply the food. You do need the parnossah, don't you? I will add a $1000 tip if you can do this catering event for me."

Shlomo stammered yet did not hesitate. He knew what his answer would be.

He knew you can not put a dollar amount on some things in life.

"Yes, I do need the money… however….I gave my son my word, and I cannot accommodate you. I will gladly recommend another caterer who can do the job."

And so it was that Shlomo turned down the lucrative offer.

Shlomo and his son enjoyed a wonderful father-and-son outing and bonding trip to Kever Rochel the next day.

As  Shlomo and his family sat down that Friday night to make Kiddush, his son Meir announced in their cramped two-bedroom apartment, "Hashem gave us the best Abba in the world. I davened for the entire family today at Kever Rochel. It was the best day of my life."

At that moment, Shlomo realized he was privileged to have been the beneficiary of an even greater sense of joy and happiness than all the money in the world could have provided.

As Shlomo kissed his son good night that night, Meir looked up and, as he was drifting away in blissful sleep, he whispered those words that are more precious than any material reward: "Abba, I love you."