Rabbi Benayahu Shmueli, Head of the Yeshiva: Chizuk for the 7th of Elul

Significant Dates, Heavenly Secrets, and the Power of Kindness

Historical and Heavenly Significance of the 7th of Elul

The fifth day toward Shabbat, the 7th of Elul, is a day packed with heavenly significance and historic wonders. As recorded in Seder Olam (page 38), Moshe Rabbeinu was born on the 7th of Adar. A woman who gives birth after seven months gives birth in an incomplete seventh month—meaning after six months and one day. Since Moshe was born in Adar I, during a leap year, it was on this exact day—the 7th of Elul—that Amram took Yocheved back as his wife, bringing down the holy soul of Moshe Rabbeinu. Six months later, on the 7th of Adar in a leap year, Moshe Rabbeinu was born.

Furthermore, as noted in the Beit Yosef (Siman 500), the 7th of Elul marks the day when the spies who brought forth an evil report of the Land of Israel passed away, though some opinions place this on the 17th of Elul. This date also marks the dedication of the placing of the gates along the walls of Jerusalem. Additionally, the 7th of Elul is the yahrzeit of Rabbi Eliyahu Chaim, father of the Ben Ish Chai (Rabbi Yosef Chaim)—a great tzaddik and an incomparable Torah scholar whose merit protects us.

The Secret of Sending Away the Mother Bird

In our Torah portion, we encounter a commandment of profound depth: "If a bird’s nest happens to be before you on the road, in any tree or on the ground, with fledglings or eggs, and the mother is sitting on the fledglings or on the eggs, you shall surely send away the mother and take the young for yourself."

The Zohar explains the deep spiritual mechanics behind this act. An angel is appointed over all birds. When a Jew sends away the mother bird and her chicks cry out, that appointed advocate approaches the Almighty and argues: "Holy One, blessed be He, isn't it written that 'His mercies are over all His works'? Why did You decree upon this bird to be banished from its nest?"

When Israel performs this commandment, the Holy One, blessed be He, gathers all the heavenly hosts where each angel advocates for the creatures under his charge. Hashem then addresses them: "You each advocate for the birds over which you are appointed, asking why I did not have mercy on them. But what about My children? What about the Holy Shechinah (Divine Presence) in exile, whose nest in Jerusalem lies destroyed? Her children are dispersed under harsh foreign masters, and is there no one requesting mercy and advocating merit for them?" At that moment, Hashem cries out and commands the salvation of the Jewish nation for the sake of His holy Name, awakening divine mercy for the Shechinah and Her children in exile.

Before Israel went into exile, fulfilling this commandment served to arouse mercy for holy souls in exile that undergo reincarnations.

Rabbi Ezra Attiya and the Indian Fakir

A remarkable story illustrates the absolute truth of our Sages' teachings. During wartime, Rabbi Ezra Attiya, the Rosh Yeshiva of Porat Yosef, fled to Egypt to save lives—a clear mandate of pikuach nefesh—where he taught extensive Torah.

While studying Tractate Chullin (page 139a) regarding the commandment of Shiluch HaKen (sending away the nest), the Talmud poses a theoretical question: If a person finds a bird's nest on top of a human being's head, does the commandment apply? Upon hearing this, a student in the class began to mock the idea, laughing and questioning how a bird could ever build a nest on a man's head. Rabbi Ezra Attiya responded pleasantly, refusing to argue aggressively, knowing that every word of our Sages is the word of the Living G-d.

Through divine providence, a man walked into the room at that very moment wearing a large hat, with an actual bird's nest resting right on top of his head! When asked where he had come from and how this had happened, the man explained that he had just arrived from India. There, he had encountered a fakir—someone who sits cross-legged like a scarecrow for days without moving or bathing. A bird had built a nest on the man's head, and he hadn't even raised a hand to shoo it away. Rabbi Ezra Attiya turned to the student and said, "Do you see? Moses is true and his Torah is true."

The Path to Redemption and the Debt of Kindness

The Zohar reveals that the place from which the Messiah will be revealed is called Kan Tzippor ("Bird's Nest"). The verse says "If a bird's nest happens to be before you... on the road" (ba'derech). Redemption coming "on the road" depends on returning to the proper path through teshuvah (repentance) and engaging with the Torah, which is the "Tree of Life."

As we prepare ourselves, one of the most vital tools we have is charity (tzedakah) and acts of lovingkindness.

A powerful story from the Holocaust illustrates how a single act of mercy echoes through time. When the Nazis invaded, a Jewish mother sought to save her young son. She gave a non-Jewish neighbor a bag filled with gold jewelry and diamonds, begging her to watch over the child and promising another bag after the war if she survived. By Hashem's mercy, the mother survived, reclaimed her son, and moved to the United States.

Living in severe poverty, the mother struggled every day just to feed her boy. One morning, unable to provide even a single slice of bread, she placed a note in his bag explaining her poverty, urging him to remain strong until noon, and sharing her shame at having to beg from neighbors. By mid-day, fainting from starvation, the boy left school and searched for a house with a mezuzah, knowing Jews are compassionate people. He knocked on a door and asked a young girl for a glass of water. She returned instead with a large cup of rich milk and four large slices of cake. Restored, the boy privately wrote down the family's name and address, promising himself that if Hashem ever blessed him in the future, he would repay them.

Decades passed. The boy grew up, studied medicine, and became a world-renowned professor and chief surgeon. One day, reviewing urgent medical files, he came across a highly critical, complex surgical case and took it upon himself. During the operation, the patient went into cardiac arrest, but he persevered. After a grueling procedure and a year of intensive hospital recovery, the elderly woman was finally ready to be discharged healthy.

When her family met to discuss the massive medical bill—amounting to millions of dollars—they agreed to sell their homes to cover the cost for their mother. But when they approached the hospital secretary, they were informed that the bill had already been settled in full. Stunned, they looked at the file, where the surgeon had written: "Paid in full 35 years ago with a cup of milk and four slices of cake." The elderly patient was the very same girl who had saved him from fainting decades earlier.

A person never knows the immense reach of a single good deed. Every commandment, every act of kindness, and every moment of repentance, alters the world and brings merit to all of Israel.

The Dubner Maggid on Turning Curses into Blessings

The Dubner Maggid, in his work Ohelei Yaakov, addresses the verse: "But Hashem your L-rd, refused to listen to Bilaam, and Hashem your L-rd, turned the curse into a blessing for you." He explains why the Torah strictly forbids an Ammonite or Moabite from entering the congregation because "they did not meet you with bread and water" and because they hired Bilaam to curse Israel. Why was Balak's hiring of Bilaam held so heavily against him if Hashem ultimately turned those curses into blessings?

The Dubner Maggid offers a famous parable: A merchant was traveling with a wagon full of valuable goods when he reached a dangerous mountain pass. Deciding to wait out the night, he stayed at an inn. In the morning, he discovered that thieves had stolen his horse, carriage, and all his goods. Weeping, he walked three parasangs down the road until he spotted the thief driving his very wagon. The thief, recognizing the merchant as a powerful warrior, panicked, silently handed over the reins, and returned the stolen property.

However, after handing it back, the thief had the nerve to demand payment, saying: "Look, I drove your wagon all this way for you! I did you a favor—do I not deserve to be paid?" Furious at the thief's unbelievable audacity, the merchant gave him a severe beating.

So it is with Balak. He hired Bilaam with evil intent to destroy Israel, yet when Hashem forced Bilaam to utter blessings instead, Balak felt he was owed credit for bringing blessings upon Israel! Therefore, the Torah emphasizes that despite the ultimate outcome, Balak's malicious intent remained an unpardonable hostility.

Hashem turns every curse aimed at Israel into a blessing, guarding His nation with supernatural strength and fighting our battles before us.

The Value of Bringing Joy to Others

A story is told regarding Chakham Dweck and Rabbi Yaakov Ades (the son of Rabbi Avraham Ades). They were close study partners who made a pact that whoever passed away first would return from the Upper World in a dream to reveal the truth of the Heavenly Realm.

Rabbi Ades passed away first. When he appeared to his friend, he explained that he was forbidden from revealing the inner secrets of Heaven. However, he shared one profound revelation:

"Do you remember that simple man who passed away a few years ago, who used to walk around synagogues offering people snuff tobacco just to bring a smile to their faces and cheer them up? If people on earth only knew the unimaginable, overwhelming reward given in Heaven to someone who simply brings joy and relief to another Jew, everyone would spend their entire lives handing out tobacco!"

The merit of bringing joy to another person—whether by preparing a warm meal for someone in the morning or giving them an encouraging word—is unfathomably great in the eyes of the Creator.

The Hospitality of Rabbi Shimon Shkop

Rabbi Moshe Weinberg, a renowned Torah scholar who later lived in New York, used to recount his youth before the Holocaust when he set out to apply to the prestigious yeshiva in Grodno. His family was so destitute that they could not afford train fare. Determined to learn Torah and unwilling to burden his impoverished parents, the young boy decided to walk on foot for two full weeks to reach the yeshiva.

He packed minimal food and was told to rely on the kindness of Jewish strangers along the way once his supplies ran out. He spent two weeks sleeping in synagogues, on streets, and in cold alleyways, driven entirely by his burning desire to learn Torah. Upon arriving in Grodno, he rigorously reviewed his assigned page of Talmud until he knew every single word by heart.

When he entered the office of the famed Rosh Yeshiva, Rabbi Shimon Shkop, the elderly sage received him with deep warmth and asked about his background. Rabbi Shkop then said, "Your entrance exam consists of just two questions."

His first question was: "When was the last time you ate a hot meal?"

The boy was stunned and answered softly, "Three weeks ago."

Rabbi Shimon Shkop—who was 70 years old at the time—immediately stood up. Though cooking was not his expertise, the venerable sage went to his kitchen, prepared a nutritious, hot meal, and served it to the starving boy.

After the boy finished eating, Rabbi Shkop said, "Now for the second question of your exam: When was the last time you slept in a real bed?"

The boy replied, "I honestly cannot remember."

Rabbi Shkop immediately led the boy to a room, prepared a comfortable bed, and told him to rest. Only the next morning did the young student discover that the Rosh Yeshiva had given up his very own personal bed for him.

Decades later, after surviving the horrors and unspeakable trauma of the Holocaust, Rabbi Weinberg revealed what had kept his spirit alive through the darkest depths of suffering. It was not a complex theological lecture, but the loving memory of Rabbi Shimon Shkop’s two questions: "When did you last eat a hot meal? When did you last sleep in a bed?" That pure, selfless love for a fellow human being gave him the strength to endure and survive.

Such is the power of genuine compassion, mercy, and chesed—there is simply nothing greater in the entire world.