Converting Fire Into Blessing | Rabbi Fischel Schachter

So when I was at a camp, I was about 15 years old, a strange phenomenon, normally unheard of with young Bochurim, We actually liked the cook. We loved him. He was a special person, he was a survivor of Bergen-Belsen, and he just cooked with so much love, and he came out and he’d shmooz with us. And then it happened. One year, first there were rumors, then it turned out that he’s not happy. There was a new kitchen manager, a quarter of his age, and the kitchen manager was putting a lot of pressure on him. And he wanted to know why are you buying this and why are you buying that and why are you releasing so much and why is there so much extra food? And it was really getting to him. And we even heard that he wanted to quit and they took him to a Rabbi, they took him to a Rav, and the Rav said: You can't leave in the middle of the season. But he was very uptight, and we could tell he was uptight. We felt so bad about it because we really loved this cook. So one morning we came into breakfast and what was for breakfast? Spaghetti. So we realized this was the cook saying: Okay, you want me to stay, so I'll do it my way. You don't like the way I was doing it till now? How about spaghetti for breakfast? No ketchup, nothing else, no meatballs, just spaghetti. And we were with him. Came back for lunch. Spaghetti. We were still more or less with him. Came back for supper. Spaghetti. By now, you know, the Olam was a little agitated, more or less, but there was more less than more. And everyone is screaming and everyone is yelling. Talk about a low carb diet. I mean, spaghetti for breakfast, lunch and supper. And in walks the cook, and he gets up on a chair and he's holding a fork in one hand and a spoon in the other hand, and he's wearing his chef’s hat, and we never saw him so upset. There always was a smile on his face. And he just laid it all out. He said: I want to tell you something, okay? I'm here 15 years. 15 years I gave my heart out. And all of a sudden, there’s a young kitchen manager, a quarter of my age, yelling at me like I'm a little child? I've had it! My bags are packed and I am... ...announcing color war. And the place was quiet for a moment, because the curve ball was so good. We were in shock, and everyone just exploded. They picked him up, and they carried him around, and they were cheering. And I went over to him afterwards. I said: I always knew you were an amazing cook. You were even a better actor. He said: It wasn't an act. I really meant it. Whatever I said is true. When they came in this morning, and said they're going to make a joke out of this, a color war breakout, I packed my bags and I was going to get up there and say I'm going to leave, and what happened? I looked around and I said: For years I was dying, starving to death. After the war, I weighed 30 pounds, 40 pounds, and now I have the zechus to give food to Yiddishe Kinderlach, to people. The whole world is color war. Forget it! Forget it, I'm staying. But look, my van is packed. And I said to him: You just taught me a lesson of life. That I can take my pent-up emotion and convert it to Bracha. And that's what happens with Shemiras Einayim. Says R’ Tzadok HaCohen in the Sefer צדקת הצדיק, You're angry, you're furious, you have a תאווה, a burning desire to look at something, that is a tangible reality. If you take that and you convert it, it opens up a source of Bracha, of blessing. It doesn't disappear. It is converted to sheer profit, the kind that lasts in this world and builds in the world to come.