When The Heart Knows No Reasons

In times of frustrations,

The mind leads.

What the mind teaches,

The heart feels.

In times of depression,

The mind finds the means.

What the mind gives,

The heart receives.

In times of prosperity,

The mind rules.

What the mind dictates,

The heart follows.

In times of loving,

The mind asks.

What the mind questions,

The heart answers.

When the mind resist,

The heart insists.

It is this time

When the mind loses

And the hearts wins. 

A Brother's Love

I was born in a secluded village on a mountain. Day by day, my parents plowed the yellow dry soil with their backs towards the sky. I have a brother who is 3 years younger than me. I wanted to buy a handkerchief, which all girls around me seemed to have. So, one day I stole 50 cents from my father's drawer. Father had discovered about the stolen money right away. He made me and my younger brother kneel against the wall as he held a bamboo stick in his hand.


"Who stole the money?" he asked.

I was stunned, too afraid to talk. Neither of us admitted to the fault, so he said,

"Fine, if nobody wants to admit, you two should be beaten!" He lifted up the bamboo stick.

Suddenly, my younger brother gripped father's hand and said," Dad, I was the one who did it!"

The long stick smacked my brother's back repeatedly. Father was so angry that he kept on whipping my brother until he lost his breath. After that, he sat down on our stone bed and scolded my brother, "You have learned to steal from your own house now. What other embarrassing things will you be possibly doing in the future? You should be beaten to death, you shameless thief!"

That night, my mother and I hugged my brother. His body was full of wounds from the beating but he never shed a single tear. In the middle of the night, all of sudden, I cried out loudly. My brother covered my mouth with his little hand and said, " Sis, now don't cry anymore. Everything has happened." I still hate myself for not having enough courage to admit what I did.

Years gone by, but the incident still seemed like it just happened yesterday. I will never forget my brother's expression when he protected me. That year, my brother was 8 years old and I was 11 years old. When my brother was in his last year of secondary school, he was accepted in an upper secondary school in the central. At the same time, I was accepted into a university in the province.

That night, father squatted in the yard, smoking, packet by packet. I could hear him ask my mother, "Both of our children, they have good results? very good results?" Mother wiped off her tears and sighed," What is the use? How can we possibly finance both of them?"

At that time, my brother walked out, he stood in front of father and said," Dad, I don't want to continue my study anymore, I have read enough books." Father swung his hand and slapped my brother on his face.

"Why do you have a spirit so damn weak? Even if it means I have to beg for money on the streets, I will send you two to school until you have both finished your study!"

And then, he started to knock on every house in the village to borrow money. I stuck out my hand as gently as I can to my brother's swollen face, and told him, "A boy has to continue his study; If not, he will not be able to overcome this poverty we are experiencing." I, on the other hand, had decided not to further my study at the university.

Nobody knew that on the next day, before dawn, my brother left the house with a few pieces of worn-out clothes and a few dry beans. He sneaked to my side of the bed and left a note on my pillow; "Sis, getting into a university is not easy. I will go find a job and I will send money to you."

I held the note while sitting on my bed, and cried until I lost my voice.

That year, my brother was 17 years old; I was 20 years old.

With the money father borrowed from the whole village, and the money my brother earned from carrying cement on his back at a construction site, finally, I managed to get to the third year of my study in the university.

One day, while I was studying in my room, my roommate came in and told me, "There's a villager waiting for you outside!"

Why would there be a villager looking for me? I walked out, and I saw my brother from afar. His whole body was covered with dirt, dust, cement and sand. I asked him, "Why did you not tell my roommate that you are my brother?"

He replied with a smile," Look at my appearance. What will they think if they would know that I am your brother? Won't they laugh at you?"

I felt so touched, and tears filled my eyes. I swept away dirt and dust from my brother's body. And told him with a lump in my throat, " I don't care what people would say! You are my brother no matter what your appearance is?"

From his pocket, he took out a butterfly hair clip. He put it on my hair and said, "I saw all the girls in town are wearing it. So, I think you should also have one."

I could not hold back myself anymore. I pulled my brother into my arms and cried.

That year, my brother was 20 years old; I was 23 years old.

I noticed that the broken window was repaired the first time I brought my boyfriend home. The house was scrubbed cleaned.

After my boyfriend left, I danced like a little girl in front of my mother, "Mom, you didn't have to spend so much time cleaning the house!" But she told me with a smile," It was your brother who went home early to clean the house. Didn't you see the wound on his hand? He hurt his hand while he was replacing the window."

I went into my brother's bedroom. Looking at his thin face, I felt like there are hundreds of needle pricked in my heart. I applied some ointment on his wound and put a bandage on it, "Does it hurt? " I asked him.

"No, it doesn't hurt. You know, when at the construction site, stones keep falling on my feet. Even that could not stop me from working."

In the middle of the sentence, he stopped. I turned my back on him and tears rolled down my face.

That year, my brother was 23 years old; I was 26 years old.

After I got married, I lived in the city. Many times my husband invited my parents to come and live with us, but they didn't want. They said, once they left the village, they wouldn't know what to do.

My brother agreed with them. He said, "Sis, you just take care of your parents-in-law. I will take care of mom and dad here."

My husband became the director of his factory. We asked my brother to accept the offer of being the manager in the maintenance department. But my brother rejected the offer. He insisted on working as a repairman instead for a start.

One day, my brother was on the top of a ladder repairing a cable, when he got electrocuted, and was sent to the hospital.

My husband and I visited him at the hospital. Looking at the white gypsum on his leg, I grumbled, "Why did you reject the offer of being a manager? Managers won't do something dangerous like that. Now look at you, You are suffering a serious injury. Why didn't you just listen to us?"

With a serious ____expression on his face, he defended his decision, "Think of brother-in-law. He just became the director, and I being uneducated, and would become a manager, what kind of rumors would fly around?"

My husband's eyes filled up with tears, and then I said, "But you lack in education only because of me!"

"Why do you talk about the past?" he said and then he held my hand.

That year, he was 26 years old and I was 29 years old.

My brother was 30 years old when he married a farmer girl from the village. During the wedding reception, the master of ceremonies asked him, "Who is the one person you respect and love the most?"

Without even taking a time to think, he answered," My sister." He continued by telling a story I could not even remember.

"When I was in primary school, the school was in a different village. Everyday, my sister and I would walk for 2 hours to school and back home. One day, I lost the other pair of my gloves. My sister gave me one of hers. She wore only one glove and she had to walk far. When we got home, her hands were trembling because of the cold weather that she could not even hold her chopsticks. From that day on, I swore that as long as I live, I would take care of my sister and will always be good to her."

Applause filled up the room. All guests turned their attention to me.

I found it hard to speak, "In my whole life, the one I would like to thank most is my brother," And in this happy occasion, in front of the crowd, tears were rolling down my face again. Love and care for the one you love every single days of your life. You may think what you did is just a small deed, but to that someone, it may mean a lot.

Have a nice day everyone! May this story inspire you in any way!

Standing by His Word

By Rabbi Roy D. Tanenbaum

In a used furniture business, unlike new, you cannot order stock from a catalogue. People call in, and you have to go out and make an offer. "You can't sell what you don't have," my father would say. So making his calls was crucial for him.

When I was age thirteen, my father lost his store manager, a one-armed guy who could do more with his one arm than many will do with two. With his one arm, he used to hook a chair on a long pole, then arc it upwards in the air where he would slide it onto ceiling hooks until someone wanted to purchase it. With his manager gone, my father came to me. Until he found the right person, would I come in while he went out to answer the day's calls?

The store has tens of thousands of items. "People like to bargain," he told me, "so I don't mark prices. You just have to know a range."

He took me around. "A quarter-horse motor you can sell for four dollars. For a refrigerator, depending on the condition, you can sell for thirty-five dollars to sixty dollars. However, if it has a freezer all the way across, sell it for eighty dollars, in excellent condition, maybe one hundred dollars. If a gasket's loose, it's garbage. Otherwise, I don't charge for scratches. Dishes come in with a houseful of furniture, and I don't even figure them in when I give a price. You can sell them for a nickel to a quarter. Something really nice."

Every day after school, I would pedal down to the store. Soon after, I was writing up a sales slip for an attractive plate when my father walked in. I had asked a dollar and the guy did not hesitate. I was very pleased. My father glanced down at what I was doing, turned to the customer and said, "You sure got a bargain today. My employee gave you the price and that's the price."

Afterward, I asked my father, "What was that all about?"

It turned out it was an antique plate, worth a few hundred dollars. I was devastated. Here I was trying to help my father in the business and instead I was losing money for him.

He said, "I could've stopped the sale if I'd wanted to. You were just writing up the slip and hadn't yet taken the money. Besides, by civil law, you're under age. But, a Jew stands by his word and the word of his agent."

Cost my father a small amount of money to teach me a lifelong lesson in integrity.

The event has a sequel. Years later, my wife and I needed to wire a large sum of money to our daughter in Israel. A bank teller advised my wife Loretta that a VISA check carried no service charge or interest unless late. When the bank statement showed considerable charges, I went in and tried to explain to the branch manager that we acted on their advice to avoid charges. To everything I said, all she could reply was, "We're sorry, but the teller made a mistake."

I then told her the story of my father standing behind the word of his employees. I finished by saying, "This was even when it didn't cause a loss to the customer, and when my father caught the error before the transaction. How much the more so afterward! I expect my bank to behave with at least as much integrity as my father."

The branch manager had not said a word during all of this, and her silence continued as I sat back in my chair. I had no idea of how she was going to react.

When she began to speak, her voice had softened, and she said in a dignified manner: "The Canadian Imperial Bank of Commerce will not be less than your father."

Then she promised that all the charges made to my account for that VISA check would be reversed.

As I thanked her and stood to leave, I was grateful that even in today's impersonal business world, a tale of integrity still had power to touch the heart and sway the conscience.

Friend

I cannot ease your aching heart,

Nor take your pain away,

But let me stay and take your hand

And walk with you today!

I'll listen when you need to talk;

I'll wipe away your tears

I'll share your worries when they come;

I'll help you face your fears.

I'm here and I will stand by you,

Each hill you have to climb,

So take my hand, let's face the world;

Live one day at a time!

You're not alone, for I'm still here.

I'll go that extra mile,

And when your grief is easier,

I'll help you learn to smile!

A Little Child Shall Lead Them

Pulling into the parking lot at Albertson's, I went over the grocery list in my head: chicken, lettuce, rolls, apples, milk, cereal for the kids, a premium ice cream. The last seemed like an extravagance, but we had friends coming for dinner. I still had some cleaning to do, and I needed time to shower and dress.

“Come on, guys,” I said to the kids as I shifted into park and turned off the ignition. “Let’s see how fast we can do this.”

I scrambled out, and lifted my two-year-old daughter, Andrea, from her car seat, holding her against my hip.

Seven-year-old Max, my oldest, volunteered, “Let me help.” “Okay,” I responded, “you close the door when everybody’s out.” With three kids, I always felt like I was forgetting something. Daniel...Where was Daniel? I felt a tug at my sleeve and turned around.

There he was, my four-year-old. He wasn’t one to say much. Even when we said our prayers at night, Daniel kept his thoughts to himself. I put my hand out and he grabbed it as we headed to the store.

We were halfway there when Daniel dropped my hand and walked over to the cart return area. He stopped, peering at something by his feet. “Daniel, leave it, whatever it is,” I said. “We need to go.” He reached down and picked up his prize, a grimy square of greenish paper. I glanced at it. A dollar bill. “I’ll take care of it till we’re home.” I shoved it into my pocket.

“Whose is it?” Daniel asked. “Won’t the people who lost it be sad?”

“Yeah, Mom,” Max agreed. “That’s a lot of money to lose.”

There wasn’t time to explain how little money a dollar actually was, not even enough to buy the dinner rolls. “No one will miss it, guys. Trust me.”

I put Andrea in the safety seat of the shopping cart while Max walked beside me, grabbing cereal boxes and putting fruit in plastic bags. Daniel trailed behind. We had almost made it to the cashier when Daniel said, “What about the money, Mom?”

“We need to go,” I said.

I coaxed a bag of M&M’s out of Andrea’s hand while I set our food on the conveyor belt. I wrote a check, wincing at the amount, and we left the store. As we passed the spot where Daniel had found his dollar, he lagged behind. “Mom, maybe someone really needs that money,” Daniel said.

“Look, it’s only a dollar,” I said impatiently, fishing the crumpled bill out of my pocket and unfolding it. I did a double take. “Daniel,” I exclaimed, “you found a hundred-dollar bill!”

“See, Mom,” Max said.

We sure could use that money, I thought as I pushed the grocery cart to our van. And someone out there surely needed it too. But how would we ever be able to track down the owner?

“Can you buy a lot of toys with a hundred dollars?” Daniel asked.

“Yeah!” Max said. “It’s so much money.”

Daniel stopped in his tracks, and looked up at me. “Then let’s give it back.”

“But how?” I asked.

“We wait here, and they come get it.”

The rocky road ice cream was melting, the milk was getting warm, Andrea was due for a nap. And I had to finish the vacuuming before our guests arrived.

“We don’t have much time to stand here waiting,” I said, though I hated to think of someone losing so much. But then Daniel looked up at me from beneath his dark eyelashes and said quietly, “Mom, you never have time when it’s important.”

I took a deep breath and glanced at my watch. If I took a really quick shower and skipped vacuuming upstairs...

“Okay, we’ll wait ten minutes.” We put the groceries in the van and sat inside. I looked around the parking lot to keep from staring at my watch. All I saw were other people like me, distracted, hurrying to fit in all they needed to get done. If I had passed that hundred-dollar bill, I wouldn’t have noticed it at all. Lord, I asked, what else have I been missing?

Just then a battered white car pulled into the parking space opposite us, and a tired-looking couple emerged.

We watched as they walked toward the store, their heads down. To my amazement, they stopped by the cart return where Daniel had found the bill. Carefully, the couple searched the area, the man’s shoulders slumped, the woman near tears. “Wait here a minute,” I said to the kids. I jumped out of the van and walked over to the couple.

“Did you lose something?” I asked the man.

“Yes,” he replied. “A hundred-dollar bill.”

I pulled the bill out of my pocket. I watched the man’s eyes widen in disbelief, and he almost crushed me in a bear hug. “It’s a miracle!” he exclaimed. “Thank God.”

“Could you thank my son too? He was the one who found it.”

The couple hurried over to our van. The man thrust out his hand for Daniel to shake, and the woman patted his head, tousling his hair. “I knew someone needed it,” Daniel said.

I watched the relieved couple walk back to their car. Then I shifted the van into reverse, and looked over my shoulder at Daniel, whose deeds spoke louder than his words. Dinner might have been a little late that night, but Daniel’s lesson had come right on time.