It is good to be a banged up car.
Just heard an inspirational story told to us because my husband used a cane till recently and now he is free from it but still a little bit lame. A man of a rabbinical caliber commented - non-intrusively - about my husband being patient while waiting for me to settle down - and wisen up - and realize that he the quiet one - he speaks softly and uses a big fancy stick. Funny, huh!?
So Mr. Rabbinical Caliber told us about two other men whose patience in their lameness got rewarded. The first case was a prominent Rabbi in USA who survived the Holocaust by not covering up his limping. He disguised it during the first selection at a death camp he had to go through. Before the second he announced to all that he never cheated anyone before and he will not cheat again - therefore he will be natural lame himself. His fellow inmates yelled at him and called him names for being fanatical and insane.
Nevertheless he was selected and put in the group of other unfit men. After so many hours of waiting, his group was trucked to a hospital, treated, washed, and put up in nice comfortable beds. Soon they were used as a show for a visit by Red Cross. The lucky future Rabbi gathered his strength, became relatively healthy, and was directed to work at a steady job which he labored till the end of the war.
The second case of lameness having its rewards happened here in Israel. A simple family man struggled with feeding his family and not being able to work most menial jobs due to his lameness. He had an old car that barely worked, being the only and most indispensable work horse. Once he drove to a job interview, and after not getting the job, walking out he realized that his car got stolen. The weather was sweltering, and he could not limp home along the roads in the summer heat. Someone suggested that he might as well call police to file the report. He had little faith that police would do much. Police did come, took down the information and almost laughed at the futility of recovering the jalopy.
The poor lame man trudged on through life. Rosh Hashono approached - and unexpectedly he got a call from the police, almost yelling at him: "when are you going to come and take back the car?! Tomorrow is the last day you can do that before the High Holidays!" The lame man limped again - to the police compound, to be hustled and hassled by the cops to get moving with his car. The lame man was shocked: the car was in top shape, fenders repainted, headlights replaced, the seats, the dashboard, and the steering wheel re-upholstered and decorated to the latest standard of Arab auto esthetics. The lame man used his keys to start the car, the engine purred in perfect tuned condition, and he drove away.
As an afterthought, I felt like I was my husband's banged-up car! Embarrassed to say so!