A Toast to Sanctity
Many years after my father emigrated from Morocco to Eretz Yisrael, some friends from the old country came to visit. They enjoyed walking down memory lane, as they recalled mutual experiences of Essaouira in Morocco. During the course of their conversation, one of the men suggested they drink a l’chaim from the liquor on the table. Father had a dislike for strong drink and asked that they wait for me to come home and join them in his stead. As I stepped into the house, I found Father’s friends watching me expectantly.
“Why didn’t you have a shot beforehand?” I asked in puzzlement.
“Your father asked that we wait for you to join us,” they replied.
I was taken aback by this rejoinder. Father raised us with rock-solid distaste for hard drinks. Why did he want me to join in the drinking this time? But since I was also raised to revere my parents, I kept my reservations to myself and turned to the honor of pouring the drinks.
When I lifted the bottle, my face fell. The liquor was infested with tiny ants. All of the men seated were elderly and had blurred vision. They surely would never have noticed the tiny bugs at the bottom of the bottle. Hashem miraculously saved them from ingesting defiled creatures. Baruch Hashem, Father had the foresight to prevent them from this terrible pitfall.
