But they needed the income, so they rented out the mansion and moved into a far more modest home.
One day, disaster struck: a fire broke out in the city. The flames spread quickly, threatening to engulf the building where the brothers now lived. They rushed to save the apartment they rented, battling the inferno with everything they had.
Amid the chaos, a wise man appeared, surveying the scene. After watching the brothers toil, he called out to them with a mixture of concern and mild exasperation.
“Why are you working so hard to save someone else’s house?” he shouted over the crackle of the flames. “Focus on saving your own! The house you’ve inherited—the one your father left you. If it burns, what will you have left?”
Reclaiming Our Home
The lesson is simple, yet profound. So often, we find ourselves consumed by the urgent tasks at hand—protecting what is valuable in the moment, like the communities we've built in the Diaspora. These are worthy, these are important, but they are not permanent.
Our true inheritance—the Land of Israel—calls for our attention. We must turn our efforts toward regaining it, rebuilding it, and ensuring it is not lost amid the distractions of the temporary.
Our work is not just to preserve the present but to lay the foundations for the future.
(Adapted from Mishlei Yaakov, pp. 342-343)
