There are times when we have a certain plan that we're excited to carry out. We picture exactly how things are going to unfold, and we feel that our plan is going to be the best possible outcome. But then, suddenly, something happens that throws everything off. The opportunity disappears, someone interrupts our plans, and naturally, we feel disappointed and frustrated. At those moments, we have to remember a fundamental principle of emunah. It is very possible that if we react the right way, we will gain far more than we ever could have had our original plan succeeded. What appears to be an obstacle may actually be Hashem redirecting us to something much greater. Rav Shmuel Tzvi Kovalsky made sure that every year on his father's yahrtzeit he would be the chazzan at the minyan. It was something that meant a great deal to him, and it was his way of bringing an aliyah to his father's neshamah. One year, while waiting for the next minyan, he noticed an elderly man who appeared to need help. Although he realized that if he helped that man, he might lose the opportunity to be the chazzan at the next minyan, he offered to help anyway, figuring he would wait for the following minyan. The man first asked him to help fold his tefillin. Afterwards, he asked if he could accompany him home. Rav Shmuel assumed it would take only a few minutes because he knew the man had lived nearby. However, the man explained that he had recently moved five blocks away and that the walk usually took him thirty minutes. Rav Shmuel became very concerned that he might miss every remaining minyan to be the chazzan. Nevertheless, he strengthened himself and continued doing the chesed. When they finally reached the building, the elderly man apologized and explained that the elevator was broken. He lived on the fourth floor and couldn't get up the stairs alone. Once again, Rav Shmuel strengthened himself and continued the chesed. He silently said, "Hashem, please let this chesed serve as an aliyah for my father's neshamah in case I'm not able to be the chazzan." He then helped the man all the way up the four flights of stairs. By the time he got back to shul, the final minyan had already started and someone else was the chazzan. Rav Shmuel was heartbroken, but that night his father appeared to him in a dream. "My son," he said, "every year you are the chazzan for me on my yahrtzeit, and I receive so much nachat ruach from it. But this year you gave me something much greater. The nachat ruach I received from your sacrificing something so important to help another Jew far surpassed what I would have received had you simply been the chazzan. You were willing to give up something so precious to you in order to help someone else. That brought me an immeasurably greater aliyah." Rav Shmuel thought he was losing his opportunity, but in reality, Hashem gave him something much more valuable. A woman related a similar experience. She recently attended the wedding of a close friend who had finally become engaged after many years. Everyone was dancing with tremendous joy when someone accidentally bumped into her very hard and knocked her sheitel off her head. The embarrassment was overwhelming. As she bent down to pick it up, she made a conscious decision. "I forgive the person who just did this. I have no anger toward her." She remembered what Chazal teach—that when a person experiences public embarrassment and accepts it without retaliation, it is an especially auspicious time for tefillah. Right then she prayed that her two closest friends, ages twenty-five and twenty-four, should both become engaged within the month. Amazingly, three weeks later the twenty-five-year-old became engaged, and on the very last day of that month, the twenty-four-year-old became engaged as well. This woman had gone to the wedding expecting nothing more than an enjoyable evening. Instead, Hashem placed before her an unexpected challenge. Had she become upset, the night would have ended with disappointment. Instead, she accepted the situation with emunah, transformed a painful moment into a powerful moment of tefillah, and merited to accomplish something far greater than she could have ever imagined. When our plans suddenly change, instead of asking, "Why did this happen?" we should ask, "What does Hashem want from me right now?" If we respond with emunah, we may discover that what seemed like an interruption was actually the greatest opportunity of all.
