DEC. 14, ‘25 // The third one was a nudnik. Sitting down on comfortable chairs at a round table, they studied the menu. The schlimazel, his taste simple, his style unsophisticated, ordered a plate of plain chicken soup. The schlemiel, trying to be helpful, pushed it a bit closer to his schlimazel friend, and managed to spill it all over him. There was a small ruckus as the waiter, schlemiel and schlimazel tried to clean up the mess. The nudnik stood next to them, asking again and again: “What type of soup was it?” I picked up my little nudnik and hugged him tight. As always, he somehow managed to turn my frustration into laughter, my bad mood into a sunny side up. For in truth, I cannot say I was unmoved, I was as moved as could be. A morning of hard work in a dirty kitchen, followed by rumbling, tumbling cans coming from my trusty pantry, will do that to me. My little boy however, managed to change my perspective. It might have been his innocent sweetness. Perhaps it was the laughter he inspired. In any case, I suddenly looked at those UFO’s with totally different eyes. That bag of beans that bumped my head? It makes a mean Cholent. The lemon juice that was now oozing green – yellow liquid all over the floor? It plays a major role in that spongy lemon cake – wait’ll you hear the recipe! Those cans of tuna that roughed up my ceramic tiles? They turn into an awesome tuna salad – lets lunch! As I bent down to make order of the mess, I found myself looking up. Someone had given me all this plenty, but I hadn’t taken much notice. Day after day, week after week, I enjoyed it, yet still grumbled. Deep within me was an ever-present feeling that life wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Ever heard of the man that was invited to a shiur titled “The roller coaster of Life?” He refused to go. “It’s not for me!” he declared. His friend could not understand. “Why not?!” “My life is not a roller coaster. It does not go up and down. It only goes down!” While my outlook was not that gloomy, it came in as a close second. I somehow managed to pinpoint the negative in many situations. It robbed me of the joy that my Creator had given me in every part of my life. Enter the avalanche. I suddenly saw blessings, instead of nuisances raining down upon me. Why did I think that a pessimistic point of view is more realistic than the optimistic one? False angle. Wrong turn. The opposite is true. * Walter Lantz needed a vacation. He worked long hours in his job as a manager of a warehouse, and felt the constant pressures slowly sapping him of his physical and emotional health. His boss noticed it too, and sent him and his coworker away for the weekend to relax, refresh, and rejuvenate. “Just come back your ambitious old self!” he warned, shaking a thick, bejeweled finger at him. Walter and his pal drove out in high spirits. The sky was a clear deep blue with an occasional cloud floating by, like a whimsical dream. As soon as the city was behind them, the scenery turned post– card like, with little houses dotting a landscape boasting lush grass and green trees.
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