The Neighbor Who Liked to Borrow
One fine afternoon, Benny found himself scratching his head. His neighbor, Sid, had just returned a plate he had borrowed—but not alone. Resting atop the plate was a small saucer.Benny frowned. "Sid, what’s this?"
"Oh," Sid said airily, "the plate gave birth while it was at my house."
Benny blinked. He was no fool—at least, not in his own estimation—but the saucer did look useful. So, with a shrug, he accepted both without further inquiry.
A few weeks later, Sid came knocking again. This time, he borrowed a pitcher. And sure enough, when he returned it, there was a miniature pitcher tagging along.
"Mazal tov," Sid explained, straight-faced. "Your pitcher had a baby."
Benny scratched his head, then pocketed the little pitcher. A man would be crazy to argue with free household goods.
Months passed, and Sid came once more—this time with a special request. "Benny, my family’s having a big occasion," he said, voice full of sincerity. "Could I borrow your silver candlesticks? Just for the night."
By now, Benny saw Sid as a highly responsible borrower—perhaps even an asset to have as a neighbor. So, without hesitation, he lent Sid the candlesticks.
Days passed. No candlesticks. A week. Two. Finally, Benny rapped on Sid’s door.
"Sid, my friend, what happened to my candlesticks?"
Sid sighed, his face the picture of sorrow. "Benny, I hate to be the one to tell you this—but your candlesticks died."
Benny turned red. "What nonsense! Candlesticks don’t die!"
Sid spread his hands, perfectly calm. "Benny, Benny.... When I told you your plate and pitcher had babies, you accepted it without question. If plates and pitchers can reproduce, well—then candlesticks can die."
God's Torah
We understand why one must not diminish the Torah, setting aside its laws for convenience or comfort. But why the prohibition against adding to it? Surely, extra devotion is praiseworthy?
The answer lies in a simple truth: the Torah is not our creation. It is divine. If we begin to add our own laws, however well-intentioned, we risk blurring the boundary between what is commanded and what is invented. And once that line is blurred, what follows is all too predictable. The same authority that felt entitled to add will feel entitled to subtract. And the difficult laws, the inconvenient ones—those will be the first to go.
(Adapted from Mishlei Yaakov, p. 394)