Ki Tavo – Rav Avraham Pam and The Gift of Time

 Ki Tavo – Rav Avraham Pam and The Gift of Time     This week’s parashah, Ki Tavo, begins with the mitzvah ofbikkurim—bringing the first fruits to Yerushalayim. The farmer didn’t justdeliver the fruits. He made a declaration, retelling the story of our people:“Arami oved avi”—from Lavan chasing Ya‘akov, to the slavery in Mitzrayim, toHashem redeeming us with a mighty hand.     Why? Because gratitude is not just giving—it’sremembering. We don’t only thank Hashem for the fruit; we thank Him for ourhistory, for those who came before us, for the gift of time itself.     And that brings me to a story.     Rabbi Yaakov Moskowitz once shared a remarkable story heheard directly from Rabbi Ya’akov Mills, the rabbi of Young Israel of Memphis.Rabbi Mills had learned in Yeshivat Chofetz Chaim in Queens before hismarriage. Every Shabbat, he and a few fellow students would travel to Brooklynto staff a group home for men with special needs. During the week they hadnurses and aides; on Shabbat, these bochurim became their companions—bringingthem to shul, singing zemirot, and sharing meals.     In that home was a man named Baruch. He was about seventyyears old, with developmental disabilities, but very much part of the Shabbattable. One Friday night, Baruch asked if he could share a devar Torah. Ofcourse, they encouraged him. He stood up, spoke some words about theparashah—not very coherent, but heartfelt. Everyone applauded: “Yasher koach,Baruch!”     And Baruch smiled and said, “I’m so glad you liked it.You know… Rav Pam also liked my devar Torah.”     At first, they thought it was just his imagination. Weekafter week he would repeat the pattern—say a few words, get cheered, theninsist, “Rav Pam also liked it.” They assumed he had once seen Rav Avraham Pam,the Rosh Yeshiva of Torah Vodaas, maybe even shook his hand, and in his mind,Rav Pam “liked” his Torah.     But Rabbi Mills was curious. One week he arrived early onFriday afternoon. And to his shock, he saw Baruch holding the phone, deliveringhis devar Torah. Rabbi Mills tiptoed upstairs, picked up the extension, andlistened. He heard Baruch conclude—and then he heard a warm, gentle voicerespond:     “Baruch, that was such a beautiful devar Torah. Thank youso much for sharing it with me.”     It was the unmistakable voice of the gadol hador, RavAvraham Pam, zikhrono livrakhah.     Rabbi Mills later investigated. He discovered thatBaruch’s family had once davened in Rav Pam’s shul. And for thirty years—everysingle Friday afternoon—Rav Pam had picked up the phone, listened to Baruch’sdevar Torah, and encouraged him.     Think about that. Thirty years. On Erev Shabbat, when theRosh Yeshiva of Torah Vodaas—shouldering the worries of the Jewish people—had athousand demands on his time. He still made time for one lonely Jew.     That is bikkurim. Hashem gives us the gift of time, andthe question is: what do we give back?     Sometimes we say, “I’m too busy.” But if Rav Pam couldcarry the burdens of Klal Yisrael and still make time, can we not give a fewminutes to lift someone’s spirits, to call a friend, to listen to a child, tobe present for another Jew?     And when we do, we fulfill the blessing in this week’sparashah:     “וְשָׂמַחְתָּ בְּכָל־הַטּוֹב אֲשֶׁר נָתַן לְךָ ה׳ אֱלֹקֶיךָוּלְבֵיתֶךָ”  —“Then you will rejoice in all the good that Hashem yourGod has given you and your household.”     .