The Fruits of our Labor

The Fruits of our Labor

By Nechama Dina Smith

As finish the month of Shvat, I wanted to internalize the lessons of Tu B’Shvat and carry it into my life before it’s time for the new month of Adar to teach us its lessons.

So… people are compared to a tree-- a fruit-bearing tree.

It happens to be that the first thing Adam and Eve are commanded is to be fruitful and multiply, and to fill up the world.

And while not every person is fortunate to bear actual children, it seems every single person is capable of being productive. It is so basic, so crucial, so necessary for our essence as human beings.

I remember once discussing with my brother the pros and cons of living in a bustling city as opposed to a more out-of-town place. He told me he found that in the city everyone, including himself, was always busy, always rushing. But it felt like he was running around in circles, not accomplishing a lot, kind of getting lost in the rush. Now, I know for a fact that millions of people accomplish a lot in big cities, and it was probably dizzying for my brother coming from out of town to get past the buzz. But still the fact remains that it is possible to be busy, busy, and busier still, yet not be productive and successful.

I think being a success (and there are so many kinds of success) relates to man’s first commandment of being fruitful. Being a success is what makes us happy and fulfilled. All a tree wants is for its fruit to bear seeds and grow itself into more trees with fruit of their own.

In our supplication in Hallel we ask, Please, Hashem, save us. And right after that, we add, please Hashem, make us successful. Don’t just save our lives, make us succeed.

In our home the night of Tu B’Shvat I give up on serving a regular supper. My husband hauls out the exotic fruit, and I add all the regular fruit we like, along with anything Ho’Etz in the house--almonds, pecans, olives, dates, avocados. We add some carob that the store carries now, and we make a little Tu B’Shvat party. We set up the fruit in the right order (for example olives before grapes), and the magic begins. Tangy and sweet passion fruit, bold and breathtaking dragon fruit, dripping blood oranges, fragrant guavas, soft and sweet sugar fruit, delightfully chewy carob, the incomparable jackfruit, taste-bud altering miracle fruit, and the regulars too--savory olives and avocados, crunchy salted nuts, and more, till the numbers reach way more than 15, which was the original goal (15 to equal the fifteenth day of the month, a custom some people have). No one has room for supper anymore, so that’s why I gave up on that. But the excitement over the fruit, the camaraderie and sharing as we make sure everyone tries everything, that fills us up too.

I read that the source of fruit is in the world of Atzilus--the highest ethereal world, the one closest to Hashem. No wonder some fruit just takes your breath away, adds joy to your moment, takes you somewhere distant, lofty, as you close your eyes and slowly enjoy the fruit of Gan Eden in this world.

If I’d compare fruits to vegetables, I’d say vegetables are our hard work and what keeps us healthy and alive. But fruit is delicious, it’s our passion, it’s what gives us meaning to our life.

The same blessing of Shehechiyanu we recite over the birth of a daughter, the purchase of new clothing (when that was a rarity--though some still say it for that), and the onset of a holiday--that same blessing we say on a new fruit. Tasting fruit is up there among the special moments of our life.

And as exotic and unique and special as fruit are, the equivalent in spirituality is also unique and special--it’s the happiness when we fulfill Hashem’s mitzvos.

Hashem makes our choices easy for us--we feel awful when we do the wrong thing, and we feel amazingly wonderful when we do the right thing. Anyone who’s gone on mivtzaim--where we share mitzvos with others--help someone shake a lulav, explain how to light Shabbos candles, wrap tefillin on someone, present them with a Chanuka menorah and teach a thought or two about that week’s parsha or that holiday’s meaning--anyone who’s been involved in that can attest to the mutual joy that is shared: of the one performing the mitzva and the one introducing it--for it is a mitzva as well, to help your fellow friend--physically or religiously.

So that can be my take-away. To let the sweetness of the Tu B’Shvat fruit remind us of our comparison to a tree, our commandment to be fruitful, and our innate desire to produce good deeds--spiritual fruit--and fulfill the will of our Creator.