Outstretched Alms

Currently in Yerushalayim, I decided to head to the Kotel after Shabbos. The Western Wall is a magnet for Jews from every corner of the Diaspora, as well as for visitors from countries around the world. I always take a pocketful of dollars with me, having learned over the decades that being at the Kotel includes the opportunity to give some charity to the poor, the needy, the impaired, and others who ask. I have noticed over the last many years at the Kotel that fewer people approach with hands outstretched as they tell their story. This decrease in requests makes davening easier, especially when one wants to maximize those moments at the Wall with quiet, intense, uninterrupted prayer.

Last night was no different. As I made my way to the Kotel and then to the tunnel, and offered my prayers and my supplications, no one asked for tzedakah. Men and boys sat or stood immersed in their siddur or seferand I was free to engage in my own prayers and do some learning without reaching into my pocket for money.

As I left the Kotel and headed out to the exit, I asked my wife if she had the opportunity to give her money to anyone. Her experience was the same as mine, and she had retained her pocketful of dollars. As we neared the gate leading out to the buses and taxis, I noticed an elderly bearded man hunched over, sitting on a chair by himself. He had a cup in his hand and shook it so that we could hear the coins rattling. He had an intelligent look about him and seemed sincere as he sat hunched over, nearly broken by whatever ailment wracked his frame.

The jingling coins caught my ear and the sad look caught my eye. I approached him and he said, “For fifty years I was a gabbai tzedakah (a fundraiser for a Torah institution). I worked long and hard to support Torah. Now I am too old to travel and have no energy left. No one will hire me and for the first time in my life, I am forced to collect for myself. I am a gabbai tzedakah for myself now.”

We both gave him from our respective collection of dollars.

Last summer when I visited Africa and went on some safaris, I learned several facts. One is about the Cape buffalo, whose range stretches from southeastern Senegal through West and Central Africa to South Africa. My guide pointed out how these massive herds traveled for miles, sticking together in a formidable column. He then pointed to an area where there were a few lone bulls, pasturing alone. He explained that when a bull can no longer keep the pace and can no longer protect the other buffalo, he is effectively abandoned by the rest of the herd. They move on without him. They cannot slow down for him since he has lost his role of protector and caretaker of the migrating herd. He is forced to fend for himself. He may become the prey of predatory beasts or he may collapse with age.

Right now, this aged man has a means to fend for himself and like in Tehillim 23, I pray that our Shepherd and our people do not abandon him. 

Rabbi Dr. Dovid Fox is a forensic and clinical psychologist, and director of Chai Lifeline Crisis Services. To contact Chai Lifeline’s 24-hour crisis helpline, call 855-3-CRISIS or email [email protected]. Learn more at ChaiLifeline.org/crisis.