This story begins many years ago, when Israel was a fledgling state. It is hard to describe the struggles and sweat of new olim who arrived on holy soil then. Conditions were primitive and miserable, at best. It was hot in the summer and bitter in the winter in the shabby homes they were assigned. Life was a far cry from what many envisioned before they embarked on their journey to the Holy Land.
Yedidya* hailed from Morocco. He and his mother, a simple widow, settled in a yishuv in the north. In time, they learned to make do with what they had, and came to call Israel their home.
One night, a pipe burst in their shabby house. Water was running everywhere. “Quick, go call David the handyman!” the widow said.
“Ima, it is two o’clock in middle of the night. Maybe we should wait for the morning.”
But the woman explained that the handyman had advertised that he was on call twenty-four/six. People were that desperate for an income those days.
Yedidya did as he was told. He knocked at David’s door.
“Who is knocking at this hour?” he heard a rough voice call.
“Our pipe burst and Ima said I should call you.”
“Come back in the morning,” the handyman shouted.
“But your ad says you are available twenty-four hours a day!”
“Tell your Abba to take care of it until I can come fix it in the morning.”
Yedidya’s voice broke. “I don’t have an Abba… he is in Shamayim…”
Within minutes, David the handyman was dressed and outside, walking with Yedidya toward their shack. When they arrived, the house was dark. It seems there had been an electrical short, too. David set out fixing the electricity and then tackled the pipe.
The job was done at 4 a.m. It was too soon for davening Shacharis and there wasn’t much of a point getting back in bed at this hour, David calculated. He decided to stay on and help the poor widow and orphan clean up the mess the plumbing job had left behind. He mopped and wiped and soon the house was sparkling clean.
“How much do I owe you?” the widow asked gratefully.
“Nothing.”
The widow was surprised, and asked again, thinking the handyman had misunderstood.
“It’s on the account of the municipality,” David replied.
The widow could hardly contain her relief. She wouldn’t have to scrape together her last few pennies to pay the man for his work! Inside, she praised the local mayor for his generosity.
***
Fifty years passed. David the handyman was a grandfather a couple of times over, and lived on pension.
One day, a pipe burst in the wall of his aging home. He took out his tools that were gathering dust and assessed the situation. This was a big job. He would need to rip out a part of the wall to fix the mess. Even if he did the work himself, the expense would be high.
He turned off the main valve, knowing that he would need to fix the problem soon for they couldn’t live long with no water. But first, he would have to figure out a way to pay.
David went to a hardware store to price out the project. He took out the list of items he would need – cement, paint, tiles, pipes and valves – and asked for the price on each one. The shopkeeper was friendly. After engaging in small talk for a few moments, they got down to business. David noticed the shopkeeper writing down each item as he quoted it.
“I’m not ready to buy yet,” David explained. “I first want to see how much it will cost me.”
“I know,” the shopkeeper replied. “This is for me.”
David went home. The following morning, a truck pulled up near David’s house. The driver began unloading sacks of cement and pipes… Then he asked David to sign that he had received the materials.
David was angry. “I never asked for this!” he yelled. “Tell your owner that I never ordered this. He turned my quote into an order – and I’m not yet ready to buy.”
The driver didn’t know what to say. He dialed the shop and spoke with the owner. Then he handed the phone to David. David heatedly repeated himself, “I don’t know why you sent these things! I never ordered it… I cannot pay for it now…”
When the shopkeeper was finally able to get a word in edgewise, he said, “Are you ready to listen to what I have to say? Look, I’m not asking for you to pay for this. It is totally not on your account.”
“On whose account is it?” David asked in surprise.
“It’s on the account of the municipality.”
David was speechless.
“Do you remember that night, some fifty years ago?” the shopkeeper – Yedidya – continued. “Ever since, I’ve been wanting to repay you for what you did for my mother and me in the middle of that night. When you walked into my store yesterday, I immediately realized that here was my chance to return your kindness…”
*Names have been changed.
