UNITY WITHOUT UNIFORMITY There is a question in this week’s parashah that belongsat every family’s Shabbat table. According to one teaching of our Sages, Adam and Ḥavawere originally created joined together. Hashem then separated them into twoindividuals. But why? If He wanted them separate, why create them together? Andif He wanted them together, why separate them? Let me share a little parable that can help us thinkabout the answer. Imagine a couple who have been married for fifty years.Every morning, the husband prepares breakfast. He takes a fresh roll, cuts it,and places the soft middle portion on his wife’s plate. He keeps the crusty endfor himself. For fifty years, that is their routine. On their anniversary, as he prepares breakfast, his wifesays gently, “Can I ask you something?” “Of course.” “Today, would you mind giving me the crusty end?” He looks at her in surprise. “The crusty end? You want that?” “Yes,” she says. “It has always been my favorite part.” “Your favorite part? But the soft middle is the bestpart! I have been giving it to you all these years because I wanted you to havethe best.” She smiles. “And I never said anything because I thought you lovedthe crust. I didn’t want to take away the part you enjoyed.” For fifty years, each had been trying to be kind. Eachhad been willing to sacrifice. But neither had asked the other a simplequestion: “Which part do you like?” That is the whole parable. But there is a great dealinside it. Sometimes we love people according to our ownpreferences. We give them what we would want. We comfort them with the wordsthat would comfort us. We plan the evening that we would enjoy. Our intentions may be wonderful. But the person we loveis a different person. One wants advice; another wants us to listen. One enjoysa surprise; another wants to know the plan. One needs company after a difficultday; another needs a few quiet minutes. We cannot discover those things by assuming. We have toask, and then listen to the answer. Perhaps this helps us understand the creation of Adam andḤava. Their original unity teaches us connection. The otherperson matters to us. Their happiness, their pain, and their needs belongwithin our concern. Their separation teaches us that the other person has alife and a perspective of their own. The Torah calls Ḥava an ezer kenegdo—a helpercorresponding to Adam, standing opposite him. Someone standing opposite us can see what we cannot see.They can bring something to our lives that we do not already possess. But that requires humility. We have to make room for ananswer we did not expect—even something as simple as, “Actually, I like thecrust.” Rabbi Abittan, alav hashalom, often taught us that theTorah trains us in self-control. That lesson belongs especially in our homes. Sometimes self-control means holding back a sharp reply.Sometimes it means allowing someone to finish speaking. And sometimes it meansresisting the urge to say, “I know what you want,” long enough to ask what theyactually want. Love needs generosity. It also needs attention. So here is a question to bring to the table tonight: When we try to make someone happy, how do we know whatwill make them happy? Let the children answer too. Ask them for an example ofsomething they enjoy that another person in the family does not. We may learnsomething. And perhaps ask a second question: What is one small thing we could do this week thatsomeone in our family would appreciate? Hashem gave Adam and Ḥava a shared beginning. He leftthem the work of building a shared life. We carry on that work through patience, kindness, and thewillingness to discover the person beside us. Sometimes, after fifty years, that discovery begins witha piece of bread. Shabbat Shalom.
