The Ticket to Reverence
After my parents emigrated from Morocco to Eretz Yisrael, I was learning in a yeshiva in France. I would come occasionally to visit my parents and family in the Holy Land. Father would always hold on to my passport and ticket for safekeeping. On one visit, I asked my father to give me back my documents, as I had to confirm my date of departure in the travel agency in Tel Aviv. Father placed these precious items in a bag and asked that I should not remove them, so that they would not get lost.
As soon as I stepped out of the house, the first thing I did was find a garbage pail to throw the bag into. I placed the passport and ticket in my inside pocket. Why does Father worry so?” I thought. “Am I a still a little boy who loses his things?”
I arrived at the office in Tel Aviv. Imagine my chagrin when I stuck my hand into my jacket pocket to extricate the valuable items, only to find that they were gone! My passport, ticket, and wallet were things of the past.
Suddenly, I remembered Father’s warning. I was truly remorseful and had no idea how I would face him. Since I had nothing more to do in Tel Aviv, I made my way home. As soon as I turned the key in the door, I heard my father’s rebuke, “Why didn’t you listen to me and keep everything in the bag?!”
With lowered head, I apologized. But Father did not give me much time to confess. “Hurry downstairs,” he ordered, “and look by the gas balloons. There you will find your lost items.” But I stood rooted to my spot. “Is Father playing a joke on me? Many people pass by our house throughout the day. It is now past 10:00 p.m. Do you really think my things sat still and simply waited for me to come and collect them?”
Father remained silent. I went to do as I was told, in spite of my doubts. I retraced my steps, and there, exactly where Father had told me to look, I found my passport, ticket, and wallet, strewn about. I ran back up with my treasures in hand. I could barely contain myself and asked Father how he knew exactly where these items were.
“I am not a prophet, but I had a feeling you would remove the things from the bag. Therefore, I prayed to Hashem that your things should remain intact.”
I learned a tremendous lesson. My items went lost as a punishment for not obeying my father. I thought I was smarter than he. And my virtuous father, in spite of his knowledge that I would disobey, did not hold it against me, but prayed that I find my items and not be harmed by my rash behavior.
