Three instances of appreciating the others’ point of view

Rabbi Baruch Lederman
By Rabbi Baruch Lederman

SAN DIEGO — Hashem revealed to Avraham that He planned to destroy the wicked city of Sodom. Avrahom did not merely take this as intellectual information that was removed from him. Avraham thought about the actual people in the city. As such he pleaded with Hashem that there must surely be some righteous
individuals there, in whose collective merit, the city could be spared. Appreciating the other person’s point of view with compassion and understanding,
is a fundamental Torah concept which will enhance our lives and the lives of those around us, as the following true story illustrates:

A woman was walking with her friend. They witnessed a mother berating her young daughter in a brutal manner. The little girl was cringing and you could
see the terror on her face. The woman approached the mother. She said with sincere concern and respect, “I can see that you care about your child, and
it’s obvious that she has done things to get you angry. I also have children and sometimes lose my temper. I have some ideas that have helped me.
You know your child better than I do, but perhaps my experiences can be helpful for you also.”

Amazingly, the mother, who seemed just moments ago to be a terrible, evil person, calmed down right before their eyes. “I thank you for your offer. I feel
at a total loss. I hate losing my temper. But I do it over and over again. I would love it if you could give me some tips.” Indeed, the frustrated mother, with a little help from her friends, went on to make great strides, becoming a more fair and effective parent.

The friend, who had observed this whole scene, later asked privately, “All I wanted to do was tell off that horrible mother. I was fuming. No child should
ever be treated like that. But if I did tell her off, it probably would have accomplished nothing — maybe even made things worse. You on the other hand
treated her with kindness and compassion, and brought about such an incredible turn-around. How did you know to do what you did?”

“I never would have had a clue what to do or to think,” replied the woman, “But some time ago, I heard a story about Rabbi Yisrael Meir Kagan, ztz”l,
[known as the Chofetz Chaim] that changed my entire perspective. This amazing story has guided and inspired me ever since:”

Once, a burly, gruff looking, man who had served in the Russian army, entered a Jewish Inn and ordered a meal. When Jewish boys were drafted, it was
usually the end of Yiddishkeit, religious observance, for them. The army brainwashed them to worship Mother Russia rather than G-d. He plopped
himself down and ate in a most disgusting manner — stuffing an entire chicken down his mouth. It was revolting that this man, a Jew, could conduct
himself in so repulsive a manner, not to mention the fact that he did not recite a bracha (blessing) or wear a yarmulke (ritual skullcap) while he ate.

The innkeeper and the others present were sickened and embarrassed by this display; though none dared say anything. The Chofetz Chaim happened
to be a guest at that Inn. He saw the young man and slowly approached him. Everyone wondered, what would the Chofetz Chaim possibly say to this
man. What could he say? Surely this oaf would not listen to any rebuke, even from such a holy man.

The Chofetz Chaim asked the man, “Is it true that you served in the Russian army?” “Yes,” snorted the man, bracing his defenses for the oncoming
tongue-lashing he was fully expecting.

“Tell me,” began the Chofetz Chaim, “How did you manage to keep your Jewish identity in those circumstances? So many Jewish boys entered the
army, only to eventually give up their Judaism. They are forced to serve for 25 years without any kosher food, Jewish holidays, or any other vestige of
Judaism. Yet, when you could have easily gone to any Inn, you chose a Jewish one. You still identify as a Jew. I don’t know if I could have done what you
did. You are an inspiration. Where did you find the strength?”

The soldier, caught off guard and clearly moved, looked straight at the Chofetz Chaim, “It was so hard, they did everything to pound it out of us — to
make us denounce and forget that we were Jews.”

“It is a miracle that you made it through. Now you can begin to learn the Torah and observe mitzvos (religious duties) that you were deprived of all these
years.”

“But Rebbi, how can I possibly do that,” the soldier, now sobbing bitterly, responded. He continued through his tears, “I want to return to my heritage, but I
am so far removed. Surely it isn’t possible for someone like me to learn.”

“No,” said the Chofetz Chaim, “It is still possible. It is always possible. I can show you how.” As the soldier spoke to the Chofetz Chaim, the stones on his
heart began to melt. Had the Chofetz Chaim not understood and appreciated this man’s perspective, this amazing episode never would have occurred.
What did happen was: from that day on, the former soldier began a path to repentance and as the years went by, developed into an observant, well
learned Jew.

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Dedicated by Linda & Ron Holman in honor of their twin grandchildren Gavriel and Yonah Mordechai Saida on the occasion of their third birthday.