Wishful Thinking

    Just the other day, a genie approached me and granted me three wishes. It was my chance to ask for unlimited money and Kochos to help all poor people and Yeshivos in Klal Yisroel. A third wish to be used for all Tinokos Shel Bais Rabban to go B’derech Hayashar and become true Ovdei Hashem. So many wonderful possibilities to help my fellow Yidden. But he caught me in a bad time. I was feeling fully enraged and revengeful. I was in a really foul mood.

Before I publicize my wishes, I want to make a disclaimer. Anyone who doesn’t want to Chas V’shalom read anything that comes from a place of bad Middos (Lo Aleinu) should stop reading right here and pick up on this blog next week for a new post. This article is not for you.
   

 Almost automatically, I was transported to the place I just can’t seem to get out of, no matter how hard I try. My mind was flooded again with the thoughts of what that guy did when he used me. Suddenly I was fed up. I had enough of this. I decided this is what I was going to act upon and use my wishes for.

   I believe were I to ask a Shailah, I would have been advised that in the grand scheme of things of what can be accomplished with this wonderful opportunity, wouldn’t this be a waste? Besides, wouldn't the Schar of being Maaver Al Midosai, of putting my own stance aside to help others, be a more genuine feeling of accomplishment? One that would not be fleeting? I’m sure I would have agreed, but at the moment I was feeling too selfish to care.
   

 The genie told me to take my time to think it over. This was a rare, one time occurrence and should definitely be used in a wise and thought out manner. I’m sure subconsciously I agreed with him, but my impulsivity took over. (Another bad Middah that Yiddishkeit-sensitive people shouldn’t be reading about.) I so desperately wanted to do something to end the misery I was feeling. And even if it meant to blow a lifetime opportunity, so be it.

    I quickly told him I was ready when he was. Okay, he said. Shoot. 

“Well” I cleared my throat, “here is the list.

1. Anytime Oisoi Ha’Ish gets called up to an Aliya L’Torah, it should be with his full title.” I could sense the confusion, so I hurried to clarify. “Y’know, the Gabbai will call him up as ‘Yaamod Harav Hamenuval… ben….’
2. Whenever he leaves his house, he will be obligated to wear a patch on his outermost garment. Bold readable letters should be printed on it stating: I MOLESTED A CHILD.
3. I want to steal from him. To take revenge from what he robbed from me. It’s not his money that I want. I won’t take a cent from that immoral, depraved, filthy, and selfish being. But I want everyone to see who he really is, because I know. I saw him in his true essence one time too many. And even one time would be too many, yet he still didn’t stop there. So I want to
confiscate every single pair of pants and underwear that he owns. This way he can’t cover up what his real animalistic desires are and fool everyone with his devout looking, (and absolutely superfluous) Hasidic garb.”

    The genie scribbled down the rest of my words and told me that it can take up to 24 hours to process my request and he was on his way. It was a big shame that my alarm clock rang before he had a chance to even come back…

So that’s it, folks. My dream of exposing him was over. Gone in the way of so many other crumbled dreams in the past. Now all I am left with is the unjustified responsibility of protecting a guy that doesn’t deserve protection. Not from his family, not from his community and certainly not from me.

What a bummer.