amazing story about sensitivity

Pearl

Wed, Nov 16 2005, 7:01 am

I received this via email, don't know if it's true, but wanted to share:

"The whole of Yerushalayim was in an uproar! A
> well-known man, a Belzer Chasid, and his wife had just
> given birth to their first child - a boy - after being
> childless for twenty-eight years! The sholom zachor
> that Friday night was the event of the year. Well over
> a thousand people came by to wish Mazel
> Tov to the proud and exhausted father. The food supply
> ran out in short order as did the drinks, but no one
> seemed to mind. At the height of the celebration, the
> crowd quieted down as the father indicated that he
> would like to say a few words.
> "Moreh V'Rabbosai," he began in a loud voice, "thank
> you all for coming and sharing in the simcha. Although
> I have no more food to offer, let me at least tell
> over a story which I'm sure you'll appreciate."
> The ecstatic new father composed himself and
> continued. "When I was a bochur learning in the Belzer
> Yeshiva, there was a cleaning lady who would come by
> every day to tidy up and scrub the Beis Medrash and
> adjoining rooms. She was a fixture in the yeshiva and
> devoted her life to maintaining the yeshiva building.
> She was, however, not a wealthy person by any stretch
> and as her own family grew, she was at a loss of
> options as far as taking care of her children. She
> decided to bring her kids with her to work, and as she
> cleaned and mopped in one area of the building, the
> young children would run amuck, screaming, crying and
> generally causing quite a commotion, in the rest of
> the yeshiva. At first, we put up with it; we even
> thought it was cute for a time. But after a while, the
> kids really began to 'shter' us in our learning and
> davening. Try as we might to control them, they
> wouldn't listen and continued on in their childish
> games and noise. A number of younger bochurim asked
> me, as one of the oldest in the chaburah, to ask her
> not to bring her children anymore to the yeshiva.
> "I agreed to talk to her and I brazenly walked up to
> her and told her that her kids were disturbing
> Everyone in yeshiva and she should find some sort of
> alternative method of child-care for them. I'll never
> forget how she looked at me with tired eyes and said,
> 'Bochur, you should never have öòø âéãåì áðåí (the
> pain and anguish that one goes through when raising
> children.) The crowd gasped.
> "As many of you know," continued the father, "my wife
> and I have been to countless doctors who've
> recommended every sort of treatment. We moved abroad
> for awhile to be near an 'expert' which proved to be
> fruitless. One last, extreme treatment was offered and
> after trying that, it too, turned out to be just a
> fantasy; we felt doomed to a life without the pleasure
> of raising a yiddishe family.
> "After that last attempt, as we walked back into the
> apartment that we lived in for the past twenty-eight
> years, our entire sad situation hit us full force,
> like a ton of bricks. Together, we broke down crying
> and ask for forgiveness. I spent hours on the phone
> until I came up with an address, which I ran over to
> immediately. She did not recognize me obviously, but
> when I told her over the story, a spark flickered in
> her eyes. I tearfully apologized for my harsh words
> and she graciously forgave me with her whole heart."
> Beaming from ear to ear, the father announced,
> "Rabbosai, that took place exactly nine months ago!""