by Ruchi
Conversation between me and my son, Nosson:
N: Mommy, can I play with my friend Reuvi?
Me: Sure. Want to call him to come over?
N: No, I want to play at HIS house.
Me: Well, when we call people to play, we invite them to our house.
N: So he should call me and invite me to his house!
Me: Right, only he didn't.
N: (Shriveled face and tears beginning to form) But I want to play at Reuvi's house!
Me: Maybe he can come over and then one time he'll invite you over!
N: Today?
Me: No, not today.
(More tears).
Fast-forward.
Reuvi came over. And they played. And N asked me at least five times if he is going to Reuvi's house today after they play here. And I said no. And they had so much fun, he forgot about it.
Both in my mussar class this week and in Sunday school, we discussed the concept of "Gam Zu L'tovah" - that everything that happens is for the best. That there is a Plan, that we are not necessarily aware of, in the universe, that is much larger than ourselves. It's a concept that has the power to bring much serenity and peace into a person's life.
A friend of mine said this week: "I kinda want to be kid again, maybe middle school age, no pressure, no responsibilities ...blaaa."
It's easy to look at other people's "petty" worries, especially those of a child, and say "Gam Zu L'tovah!" Chin up! Everything happens for a reason! Until it's your own anguish - your own frustration or pain.
When Nosson had to play here instead of Reuvi's house, that was tragic for him! Earth-shattering! Easy for me to say, well, they had a great time here anyway. That's like saying "Gam Zu L'tovah" for someone else's tzaros (troubles).
Question is, can I develop the equanimity to say it to my own thwarted plans?
