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By: Chaya Sora Jungreis-Gertzulin
Let’s travel back in time to the days the Beis HaMikdash stood in Yerushalayim. It’s harvest time, and the farmers are in the field. They’re busy collecting bikurim, the first fruits of the Shivas Haminim, the Seven Species that Eretz Yisroel is known for – wheat, barley, grapes, figs, pomegranates, olives and dates.
The farmers of each community would join together and make the trek to Yerushalayim. What a sight it must have been! An ox would walk before them, its horns adorned with gold, and a wreath of olive leaves resting upon its head. Melodious tunes from a chalil, a flute would accompany them until they approached Yerushalayim.
Upon nearing the city, they would send word ahead about their imminent arrival. The farmers would then decorate their bikurim baskets with flowers. Important officials would come out to greet them. The tradesmen of Yerushalayim would stand before them, and in a display of unity call out “Acheinu, our brothers, men of such and such a place, we welcome you in peace.” (As described in the Mishna Bikurim)
This week’s parsha, Ki Savo, tells of the mitzva of bikurim, the giving of the first fruits to the kohein.
“Ki savo el ha’aretz…, When you enter the land that HaShem, your G-d, gives you for an inheritance… You shall take the first of all the fruit… and you shall put it in a basket, and go to the place that HaShem, your G-d, will choose to have His name dwell there.” (Devarim 26:1-2)
Rabbi Moshe Alshich, known as The Alshich HaKodosh (1508-1593), teaches that the mitzva of bikurim is a lesson in hakoras hatov, recognizing the good, gratitude and appreciation. A lesson that not only applies to the generations that merited to see the Bais HaMikdash, but a life lesson for all generations, for all time. By giving bikurim, the farmer is saying, even though I worked the field, I planted, I fertilized, and I harvested, I acknowledge that it is HaShem who makes the rain fall and the crops grow. No matter man’s effort, we need HaShem’s brachos.
Memories. As a girl in a sleepaway upstate, I went on a camp trip to a country fair. There were displays of animals and homemade crafts, shows and rides. There were also farmers who exhibited their best fruits in baskets, competing for the blue ribbons, the best in fair.
I think of the farmers who took their baskets to the kohein in a display of gratitude to HaShem, and appreciation of HaShem’s gift of the land. I then think of the farmers at the fair, vying for the prized ribbon. Whatever we do, wherever we go, we are Yehuddim, first. Yehuddim, from the Hebrew word hoda-ah, to thank, to praise, to acknowledge. To live every moment of our lives as a “Thank you HaShem” moment.
It’s not just the farmer who should live with a connection to HaShem, but all of us. No matter where life takes us, no matter what profession or pursuit we choose, we must acknowledge HaShem being with us, guiding us along the way.
Just recently, I spoke with a friend whose mother underwent a serious surgery, that Boruch HaShem had a successful outcome. When she thanked the doctor, he told her that it wasn’t his skills, but “G-d and His angels were resting on my shoulders”. A humble thought that is the spirit and meaning of bikurim. A spirit that each of us can and should bring into our lives. Our Torah is a living Torah. Its holy words are timeless. It’s up to us to internalize them so that they penetrate our mind, our heart, our soul.
When the farmer would offer his bikurim, he would do so with a tefilla – Mikra Bikurim, Declaration of the First Fruit. He would recall the miraculous Exodus from Egypt, and HaShem’s giving us “Eretz zavas chalav u’devash, A land flowing with milk and honey.” (Devarim 26:5-10)
The Sifri commentary on Devarim learns from here the importance of actually voicing words of thanks. It’s not enough to think it, but one must say it. HaShem gave man a special gift, the power of speech. We must choose our words carefully. And always remember to say thank you. Two small, yet powerful words.
One is never too young, or too old to say thank you. My mother a”h would share a story of when she and her immigrant family arrived to the United States and settled in a one room basement apartment. It didn’t take long before my mother developed a fever. Not having a doctor, or even the funds to go to one, my grandmother didn’t know what to do. A kind neighbor provided aspirin and helped my grandparents find a doctor.
Of course, my mother, just a child then, thanked the neighbor, but for years after, whenever my grandparents saw the neighbor, they would repeat the story and thank the kind woman. And, if my mother would be with them, she too would say thank you.
Through my grandparents’ example, hakoras hatov became a value that was part of my mother’s life.
Never too old. It was a few days before my dear father, HaRav Meshulem HaLevi zt”l, left this world. From the time he entered the hospital, he was confined to his room, unable to be outdoors, to breathe in fresh air.
It was winter. A cold, grey day. My father made a request. To go outside. The doctors agreed. My father was bundled up and wheeled outdoors.
Abba was weak, frail, and in great pain, but he had a message. As he sat in the wheelchair surrounded by family, he looked up to the sky above and thanked HaShem for the world He created. For giving us His Torah. For giving him life, and the merit of being a rov and leader to so many. For the gift of an eishes chayil, a wife who stood by his side. For the gift of family, children and grandchildren. My father then said some Tehillim, and it was time to go back inside.
We are in Chodesh Elul, our prep time for Rosh Hashanah. A time to realize all the good in our life and thank HaShem. It is also a time to look at those around us, our family, friends and neighbors, and thank them for all they do for us. In that merit may we all have a K’siva V’Chasima Tova.
Shabbat Shalom!
Chaya Sora
Chaya Sora can be reached at [email protected]
This article was written L’zecher Nishmas/In Memory Of HaRav Meshulem ben HaRav Osher Anshil HaLevi, zt”l and Rebbetzin Esther bas HaRav Avraham HaLevi, zt”l
