It was a humble home appliance store in a corner of Meah Shearim. When customers walked in, they would inevitably find the owner, Reb Moshe Stern, in his white yarmulke and striped Yerushalmi vest, with his nose buried in a sefer. He’d look up, greet the customer warmly, and ask how he could assist.
It turns out, Reb Moshe knew his business well, and could advise his clients exactly which refrigerator or oven suited them best. Every purchase in his boutique shop was a personal affair, with customized recommendations that the neighbors in Meah Shearim came to trust. Besides sales, he was an experienced appliance technician, as well.
Several times, advertising agencies and newspaper representatives would stop by to discuss advertising opportunities with Reb Moshe. “Why shouldn’t the rest of Yerushalayim learn about your services? You could attract so many more customers!” They offered discounted deals for ads, yet Reb Moshe declined each one.
“Parnassah comes from Above,” he would say, conviction discernible in his tone. “I do my hishtadlus, and Hashem sends me what I need.” In his mind, sitting for the greater part of the day in his store was enough. His goal wasn’t to become Yerushalayim’s premier appliance shop, nor to make it rich. He was content just the way things were. Obviously, this is not a level for your typical storeowner, who should do his utmost to promote his business, but to Reb Moshe, it was as simple as that. The newspaper reps could not convince him otherwise.
One Friday afternoon, Reb Moshe’s phone rang. The man on the other end sounded desperate. “Can you come fix my refrigerator?”
“It’s Friday afternoon,” replied Reb Moshe. “I don’t work after chatzos. I need to get ready for Shabbos.”
“I’ll pay you double,” the man said.
“Where do you live?”
“In Rechavia.”
“And you can’t find a technician in your neighborhood to repair your fridge?” Reb Moshe asked. “Try to get someone else to come down.”
“I tried!” the man protested. “I called a few, but no one was available. Look,” he said, “I need my refrigerator for Shabbos, or my food will go bad. Please! I’ll pay you double!”
Reb Moshe was quiet for a moment. “What’s your exact address? I’ll be there soon.” He grabbed his toolbox and hailed a taxi.
When the man went to his front door several minutes later to usher in the appliance repairman, his eyes opened wide. He was surprised to see a man in full Yerushalmi garb – with his hat and traditional striped suit – here to fix his fridge. He showed him to the kitchen, and Reb Moshe immediately got down on the floor, still wearing his hat. Reb Moshe opened this and twisted that. He tinkered with the thermostat and cleaned the condenser coils. Soon, he got up and brushed himself down. “Here, your fridge is working,” he said and walked toward the door. “Enjoy your fridge in good health. Good Shabbos!”
“One minute,” the man said, “How much do I owe? I want to pay you.”
Reb Moshe waved his hand dismissively. “I don’t work on erev Shabbos.”
“But you came! And I said I would pay double.”
“I told you already – I don’t work on Fridays. That’s why I suggested you find someone else. But when you said you have no one to do the job, I realized this was a matter of chesed. Chesed one must do on Friday, too.”
And with another friendly “Good Shabbos,” Reb Moshe was out the door. He jumped into the next available taxi, on his own account, and rushed home to get ready to welcome the Shabbos Queen.
The man stood by in shock, holding the cash in his hand. He very badly wanted to pay this unusual technician who had exerted himself at this challenging hour. After Shabbos, he came up with a plan. Reb Moshe wouldn’t take his money, but he would pay him back a different way!
He called in to one of the local papers and paid for an advertisement for Reb Moshe’s little appliance store in Meah Shearim. The ad, which marketed the personal experience of a boutique shop with an owner who could be trusted, ran for several weeks.
Reb Moshe had no idea why there was a sudden influx of customers. They came from all parts of the city, and they were not disappointed.
On his elevated level, Reb Moshe did what he felt was required of him and Hashem coordinated the rest.
