“What’s in this bag?” I pointed to a securely-tied black shopping bag that had been perched on my son’s shelf for too long to escape my notice.
Eli grinned self-consciously. “I found a baby hat and I am trying to track down the owner.” Judging by the various items my son picked up the last few months I was convinced that his shmiras einayim had reached impressive proportions. He drew in a breath and hesitated. “Actually, I am a bit stuck here because the number on the label is out of service.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“I will look for the address by the names (based on the phone number) and I will deliver it personally.” Impressive. Eli was committed to fulfilling the mitzvah of hashavas aveidah in spite of this technical hurdle.
Well. It turned out that the item’s owner lived in an apartment building and there was no family ‘Green’ on any of the bells.
The hat sat patiently in the bag on Eli’s shelf for weeks. Uh, did I mention that it was dirty and had a smell?
As a yeshiva bochur the only spare time he has is on Fridays and an hour each evening; somehow, he wasn’t getting around to it, I presumed.
The next time the subject was broached it was Eli to request my partnership in his noble efforts. “Would you be able to call some neighbors for me to get their new number?”
“Sure.” I answered. “Please look them up and write them down for me.” I made some calls and nothing. One call unanswered. Another said she had moved three years prior and did not have her former neighbor’s phone number. Another week or so went by. I cajoled my son to ask a shaila on his requirement to expend sleuthing efforts to track down the owner. “Look, you called the number; it has been changed. We called neighbors and got nowhere. We live in a densely populated city. Who knows if the owner ever expects to get this back?”
My son looked horrified at the implication that I was ruling for him absolving him of his obligation in the mitzvah.
“This bag has got to go. Please ask a clear shaila, explaining what efforts you’ve already done and what the requirement is now.” Eli cleared some time of his super busy schedule and made the call. He took a deep breath and reported, “ The dayan said if it’s possible to find the owner, I am still obligated to try.” I am ashamed to admit that my level of submission to Daas Torah was not as firm as Eli’s initially.
All the arguments that we already made calls, went down to the building to find a neighbor who would share the hat owner’s current phone number and we live in an area in particular with apartment buildings people are moving all the time, is this really feasible?
Eli stood up straight and said, “I will try to call a few more neighbors in the building.” In a flash, the phone book was in his hands and he flipped through the pages running his fingers down the small print.
Wait! I remembered a positive thought. We need siyata d’shmaya with all that we do. All we have to do is to have the desire and do our part. As I am processing this thought, Eli bounds into the kitchen, beaming.
“I got the number and I reached the owner!” Breathless with emotion, I told Eli what I had just recalled that if you really want to do something you don’t make calculations and Hashem will help you succeed.
“The lady sounds like she was really missing the hat.” Eli’s smile was one of contentment. “She said that she lives nearby and will call you when she passes by.” I looked forward to being the messenger of carrying out the mitzvah to its completion.
As I handed the bag to Mrs. Green the next day, she asked me to pass her sincere thank you to my son. I replied,” You, know my son worked really hard to track you down. I briefly summarized what his finding her entailed. She smiled and said, “Yes, I know exactly what you mean. I, too, once found something and also worked really hard at finding the owner.”
I smiled broadly at the women as a light bulb flashed. Hashavas aveidah had come full circle. No good deed is ever lost.
