New Year Decisions

Igor, a Russian peasant, worked in a large apple orchard. One day he came home very late, looking very disturbed and exhausted.  His wife, Mary, asked him "Igor, what has happened today?  Why do you look so tired and angry?

"Decisions.  All day I must make decisions.  You see, we have three kinds of apples in our orchard. The large apples we send to the big city market; we call that apple A.  If the apple is a little bruised or it does not look as pretty we call that apple B and we sell those to smaller markets.  The rest we call apple C, third quality, and those we turn into apple sauce.  Can you imagine how it feels:  All day I look at each apple and I have to make a decision - are you an A, B or C apple?" 

Yes, indeed, decision making can be tiring. And how qualified are we to make a decision and how do we know when we are really judging things correctly?  These questions come to mind as I prepare for the Jewish New Year. What am I going to resolve to do this year?  What needs to be put into its proper place? 

This year I am resolving to work on decision-making.

A few years ago, a young widow came to me with her problems.  She was at the end of her rope.  "I've had it." she said.  "My husband died and left me with bills and more bills.  The children are out of control.  They are doing badly in school and they have no friends.  As a mother I try to make them happy.  I take them to their clubs, to the library, to the park, to any place where they can meet other children  but for some reason they won't play with anybody. I've tried everything and have lost.  I have decided that it doesn't pay to live.  I am going to commit suicide."  After listening to her problems I too felt overwhelmed, not knowing where to turn. 

I turned to G‑d.   I prayed "Dear G‑d, give me the right thing to say".  Turning to the woman I told her, "I agree with you, young lady.  There is no hope for you.  Suicide may be the answer, but let's wait three years.  By then the children will be old enough to care for each other.  Why should you leave them doubly orphaned at this tender age?" this made sense to her.  Ten years have passed and she is doing wonderful things.  She is going strong, she has had the joy of seeing her children grow up, some of them married and now has grandchildren. In this case I was lucky to make the right decision for a person who was about to make the wrong decision.    

Every one of us must learn how to make the right decision.  We have to learn how to judge things correctly and this, indeed, is a very hard thing to accomplish.  We delude ourselves when we believe that we are always right and the others are wrong.  If we do something that may not be correct we always justify it by saying that in this special situation we should be permitted to continue.  Blindy thinking, some of us call for a white lie, while others call for a little bit of an indiscretion but in truth we are making bad decisions.

There once was a tailor who lived in a small town and was totally unobservant, never attending synagogue. The only time the tailor would come to the synagogue would be on the Jewish New Year and only for a couple of minutes. Every year, like clockwork, before the end of the holiday the tailor ran from his home to the synagogue, up to the ark where the holy Torah was kept.  There he mumbled something and after a few minutes went home happy.

The rabbi was very interested to know what prayer the tailor was saying that gave him the great confidence.  Finally, after many years he called the tailor and asked him to please explain his Rosh Hashanah prayer.  The tailor explained it this way.  "I come from a non-practicing home.  I was orphaned as a child so I never learned how to read or write.  All I learned was how to be a good tailor.  Unfortunately my teacher, the tailor, taught me some of the tricks of the trade.  How to steal by ordering extra material when making a garment and keep the extra part for yourself.  Also, to take an extra few sets of buttons.  Slowly but surely I learned how to make the garment with other people's merchandise and sell it.  I figured it wasn't such a terrible thing. 

"Now, when the Jewish New Year comes around I go to the synagogue and I speak to G‑d.  I say, look what you have done!  This year there have been so many innocent people killed, there have been all kinds of catastrophes, floods, earthquakes, rain storms.  So many children have been orphaned.  So many wives have been widowed.  So many businesses destroyed.  There is so much misery in the world.  Look here, G‑d, what have I done wrong?  All I do is steal a little material here, a little material there, an extra charge here, some extra buttons there.  So, dear G‑d, I will forgive you if you will forgive me."  In all sincerity the tailor felt that this was a good way to pray.  He made his own judgment call and was now off to start another year.  The rabbi was flabbergasted.  Imagine, a simple tailor feeling that personally close to G‑d.  How is it possible for a person to talk to G‑d, demand an explanation, and upon finding none, forgive G‑d!  It must be that the tailor is on a higher spiritual level that a learned rabbi.  "Why can't I feel that close to G‑d? lamented the rabbi.  "If only I could reach that level of pureness I, too, would ask for forgiveness."  The sincerity of the tailor's prayer caused the rabbi to reevaluate his relationship with G‑d.

This year, Rosh Hashanah, when I go to synagogue with my family I am going to make a firm resolution to think about my decisions. and my judgments.  I will pray asking G‑d  to clearly show me the difference between a correct decision and a wrong decision.  Maybe then I will have a better year.

This year, Rosh Hashanah begins on Wednesday night, Oct. 1.  I hope you will be in the synagogue with your families and friends celebrating the year of making good decisions.