Transcript
Auto-generated transcript. Not time-synced to the video.
There was a special needs boy named Rafi
who loved being in Schul and helping out
in Schol and coming early to Davening
and staying to put the sidurum away. And
he couldn't say the words. He wasn't
sure which way to hold the sitter. But
he was there day in and day out like a
soldier. And being that this took place
many, many years ago when there weren't
many school options for special needs
kids, he had to go to public school
sadly. So that's where he went and he
made do with it. One year as the
non-Jewish holiday season approached,
the public school that Rafi went to
announced that they were having an
exmiss holiday song recital where every
one of the students would get up on a
stage in front of the whole school and
all the teachers and all the parents and
they would perform a holiday song. So
Rafi excitedly came home and told his
parents about the recital and asked them
if they could come, but they both looked
at these their calendar and they said
they were busy that day and they
wouldn't be able to make it. So Rafi
later that night in Shaw he marches over
to the RV of the show Rabbi Shapiro and
he said Rabbi my school is having a
holiday recital and my parents can't
come to watch me can you come now the RV
wasn't exactly sitting around twiddling
his thumbs all day he had speeches to
prepare and she to give he said Rafia
I'll see what I can do I I hope to be
there the day of the recital came and
Rabbi Shapiro raced to the school and he
got there late and he's running in and
the security passes by a security guard
and the security guard says Rabbi
Shapiro Reb Shapiro. Yes. Oh, okay.
Good. I'm glad you're here because Rafi
has been asking me if you came. And then
Rabbi Shapiro walks into the office to
see where he should go. And the
secretary says, "Are you Rabbi Shapiro?
Rafi's been telling us the whole week
that you're coming. He's very excited."
Rabbi Shapiro walks into a packed
auditorium. Hundreds of students and
teachers and parents came to watch this
X-Mus recital. Rab Shapiro took a seat
in the back and he watched as each and
every kid got up to sing some Ex-miss
song. And after each kid, the entire
audience applauded. Kid after kid after
kid after kid. Then it was Rafy's turn.
Rafie couldn't walk properly. Rafie
couldn't talk properly. He couldn't sing
properly. He had to be helped onto the
stage by some teachers. He was holding a
guitar that he didn't know how to play.
And he began strumming it. And he
started singing. I had a little drrele.
I made it out of clay. And when it's dry
and ready, oh dre, I shall play. Oh,
Dre, Dre, Dre, I made it out of clay
when it's dry and ready. Oh, Dre, I
shall play. And he sang it with
enthusiasm and he sang with a smile and
he sang with pride and he sang with
emotion. And then he finished and there
was silence. People just sat there. They
never heard that song before. They just
sat there. But there was one man in the
back who shot up like a rocket and Rever
Shapiro. And he screamed out in the top
of his lungs, "Way to go, Rafie! Way to
go! Hooray! Great job, Rafie! Amazing."
ing and he stood up and he began
clapping as the recital came to its
conclusion. Let me ask you something.
Did anyone else in the room realize the
intricacies of a Jewish soul? No. Did
Rafi realize or know what a drrele truly
stands for? No. Did anyone in the crowd
realize that Exmus is a celebration of
Jews no longer being the chosen people
and the drreel is the symbol of refus of
us refusing to give in no matter what?
No. Did anyone in that room truly
understand Rafy's pain and fear and
anxieties and confusion and self-doubts
and hardships and troubles and
challenges in life? No. You know who
did? Each and every one of the heavenly
angels who were listening to every one
of Rob's words, who were shedding tears
at the courage he displayed, who were
broadcasting his performance on
billboards in heaven for the entire gun
to watch. Some people make the mistake
in life in saying, "Who am I? I have
dyslexia. I have ADHD. I don't have a
great upbringing. My parents were
divorced. I take 15 pills a day. I got
kicked out of six high schools. I can
barely sit down and learn. I have a hard
time connecting to file. I haven't
opened the sitter in 10 years. I'm a
nothing. This is a mistake. Every single
person in Kro has their song that they
sing that the angels in heaven gather
around to listen to and to cry to.
Because at the end of one's life, the
only question Hashem will ask us is, did
we climb our mountain? I don't care
about your neighbor's mountain. I don't
care about your friend's mountain. I
don't care about your RV's mountain. I
don't care about your brother's
mountain. I don't care about anyone
else's mountain but yours. Did you climb
your mountain? The one I gave you. The
challenges, the issues, the problems I
gave you. Did you climb that mountain?
Because at the end of one's life, the
litmus test in determining if your life
was successful or not is not how high
you climbed up your neighbor's mountain.
It's how high you climbed up yours. That
is the only thing that matters. Each and
every member of Clyrail is a soldier in
Hashem's army tasked with a mission only
he can carry out. He is a star that the
entire universe relies on. Every moa,
every shaness checker, every mikvah
attendant, every av checker, every suka
builder, every matzah baker, every
gamba,
every rabbi, every congregant, every
bodkin, every fundraiser, every beggar,
every rich man, every man, woman, and
child, every single one of us combine
with the rest of Israel to form the
rainbow that is the Jewish people. Every
single one of us has a special place in
the star-filled night Aram saw so many
years ago. Every one of us has to live
life as if we are Hashem's only child
because in his eyes we
