Crumbs of Love | Rabbi Elchonon Jacobovitz

Recently, I found myself on a stopover flight from Tel Aviv to Dubai, and right in front of me, there was this secular Israeli girl, who was literally repulsive. Tattoos, body piercings. And I remember thinking to myself, Yuck... How low can a Yiddishe Neshama stoop? But then two hours into the flight, this very same girl, she turns around to me and she asks me: כבוד הרב, סליחה, אם שכחתי להתפלל מנחה, עדיין אפשר להתפלל? If I forgot to daven Mincha, can I still daven? In one instant, my whole view was transformed, from Yuck to Wow. Look at this girl making room for the Ribono shel Olam, even in her crazy, decadent world. In Shir HaShirim, Klal Yisroel is trying to send a message to the Ribono shel Olam to bring Him back, and they say, Says the Medrash, You know what that means? It means: Tell Him, אף על פי שחולה אני, even though I'm spiritually sick, living in a spiritually ill world, אהובה אני לו. Even so, look, I'm retaining my love for Him. If there's one thing that can change the whole picture, it's those words. אף על פי שחולה אני, חולת אהבה אני. Yossale was a young, poor, orphaned boy, living alone with his mother. And one day, he comes to Cheder and the Rebbe comes in, and he says: Kinderlach, I have a surprise for you. I brought a cake in honor of the Siyum that we made yesterday. The boys are ecstatic. They never see cake. The Rebbe gives out the pieces and every child devours his piece, except for Yossale. Yossale thinks to himself, My mother, she does everything for me. I have to bring this cake home for her. So he takes a napkin, he wraps up the cake, puts it in his pocket and tries to forget about it. But an hour later, he can't resist. He sticks his hand into his pocket, breaks off a little piece and eats some. A little while later, again, he's struggling, he can't resist. Takes another little piece. And by the time the end of the day comes, he sticks his hand into his pocket one last time, and there's only a few crumbs left. And he says to himself: No, I can't finish it. I have to give something to my mother. He runs home. His mother greets him. He looks at his mother in the eye and immediately bursts into tears. His mother says: Yossale, what's the matter? And he starts crying and he says: Mama, you don't understand. The Rebbe gave out cake and there was this piece and I really wanted to save it and give it to you, but I couldn't resist. And I ended up taking a little bit and then a little bit more, and now, all I have left is a crumb. And his mother says, Can I see that crumb? He takes the napkin out of his pocket. His mother opens it up. She looks at the crumb, and she kisses the crumb, and she says: Yossale, this crumb means so much to me, because it tells me the story of how hard it was for you, how you struggled, and yet you still made sure to save me a piece. So often we struggle, we fail, and we feel like we have nothing to offer the Ribono shel Olam. This crumb? But the Ribono shel Olam doesn't look at it this way. He looks at that crumb and He says: It tells the whole story. This crumb tells me that life is no piece of cake, but even so, you're saving for me the crumb that you can.