Building on our “Law of Attraction” theme and the importance blessing rather than complaining I thought I’d share a popular Rosh Hashanah children’s story. We are never too old for a good story and an even better lesson.
“Max The Kvetch”
In the small village of Hemer lived Max, who was considered by everyone to be the village kvetch. Now kvetch is a Yiddish word for “complainer,” and that’s what Max did. Complain. From morning till night, nothing was right and . . .
When his friend the baker would ask him how he was feeling, Max would say, “Oy vey. My back, it feels as if I’ve carried the wall of Jericho itself. And my feet: Let me tell you they are swollen to the size of watermelons!”
Then the baker would shake his head from side to side and away he’d walk.
Then he would visit his friend the carpenter who would ask how his children were, and Max would say, “Oh vey! ” My son, he does nothing but read and sit around the house like a bump on a kosher pickle. And my daughter! She only visits me once a month, if I’m lucky!”
Then the carpenter would shake his head from side to side and away he’d go. And when the Rabbi would ask Max how his home was, Max would say, “Oh vey! If only it were a real home, but it’s more like a box. Why we didn’t build a bigger house, I’ll never know!”
Then the Rabbi would shake his head from side to side and off he’d be.
And so each day would go. No matter who was listening, Max always had something to complain about, and he’d always say . . . “Oy vey!”
Now on one particular morning, Max woke up and looked and looked outside and said, “If only I can have the strength to bear another miserable day!” And as he spoke, his tongue itched. Not an ordinary itch, but a weird, tingly itch. “What is this itch,” said Max, crossing his eyes and trying to look at his tongue. He could see nothing unusual, so he went into the kitchen and prepared breakfast. Then he called his son, but he did not come.
“Such a lazy boy!” said Max. “Like a bump on a kosher pickle.” Max went to his son’s room. He was nowhere to be seen But there on his bed was, you’ll never believe it . . . a huge, green pickle with one big bump on it! Max couldn’t believe his eyes. Then he searched his house for his son, but he could not find him.
“Where could he be in this little box of a house?” Max wondered aloud. And at that his whole house groaned and creaked and began to shrink. Soon it was so small that Max’s head was poking out the front door and his legs were sticking out the windows.
Max was frantic, but he screamed and kicked until he had wiggled free.
He ran to his daughter’s house a few blocks away to tell her of all the strange things that kept happening. “I’ve got to see my daughter, if she remembers me!” When he reached his daughter’s door, he knocked on the door.
“Yes, what is it sir? Are you selling something? Well, whatever it is, I’m not interested!”
“But, but I’m your Dad,” Max said with a tear in his eye.
“You’re not my father,” said his daughter. And she slammed the door!
Max was dumbfounded. “What is happening?” he shouted, clutching at his heart. “Isn’t it enough that I am not well, that my back ached as if I were carrying the wall of Jericho itself, that my feet are swollen like watermelons?”
He lost his balance and rolled to the ground; and as he fell, a huge stone wall appeared and crashed! The top of the wall fell, pinning Max underneath.
There he laid for an hour! Moaning and complaining.
Suddenly, Max heard a voice, “And how is your home?” Max looked up and saw the Rabbi. “Oh Rabbi, let me tell you what has happened! You won’t believe it.”
The Rabbi listened to Max’s troubles. You see, Rabbis do that sort of thing. When he had finished, the Rabbi shook his head from side to side. “I’ve heard of such cases,” he said. “Did your tongue itch a strange itch this morning?”
“Yes, yes,” Max shouted. The Rabbi shook his head again. “I’m afraid you have the kvetch’s itch!”
“The what?” asked Max.
“The kvetch’s itch. It happens rarely, and only to a kvetch, and it causes everything the kvetch complains about to come true.”
“Oy vey,” cried Max. “I have caused these things to happen with my own words? How can it be cured?”
“It cannot be,” said the Rabbi. “You will have it the rest of your life.” At hearing this, Max let out a huge cry!
“However,” said the Rabbi, raising a finger, “if you praise the good in your life, say nice things instead of always complaining, these problems you mention will stop.”
Max frowned, thinking about what the Rabbi had said. He didn’t quite know how to praise because he had never done it before. “Very well, Rabbi,” said Max, “I will try.” He cleared his throat and began. “My son who is lazy – ”
“No, no,” said the Rabbi quickly. “Praise your son. Say something nice!” So Max started again. “My son, who is really a very nice person . . . -” “Yes, yes,” cried the Rabbi. “Go on.”
“He reads books all the time. And, my house is snug and really well built. I am lucky that my daughter, who is busy with her own family, visits me once a month. I am thrilled that I am living and very healthy.”
And, at these words, the wall disappeared! Max’s feet became feet again. And Max’s daughter opened the door of her house. “Dad,” she said, “I was just coming to visit you!”
When Max returned to his home, he found it just as his wife had straightened it. And when he went into his son’s room, there he was reading a book and smelling a bit like a pickle!
And from that day on, whenever Max would start to complain and say, “Oy vey…” he quickly said instead, “You know, things really are good, very good, and I really am happy!”
. . . And he was.
Adapted from a Children’s Rosh Hashanah Story by Rabbi David J. Gelfand
Live Well and Prosper,
Sandi
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