Weekly Chasidic Story #.948 (s5776-20 / 16 Shvat 5776)
The Junior Draftsman

"One day I applied for a job at a huge woodworking factory that produced furniture and other items for the government. Because it was wartime, the factory was open seven days a week.
Connection
: Weekly Reading--Shabbat is the 4th of the 10 Commandments.

The Junior Draftsman

I [Rafael Ben-Zichri of Beersheba, Israel,] was born in Safro, Morocco, where I attended yeshiva until I was 16 years old. By then it was time to learn a profession, so I went to the city of Fez where there were more options. I decided to become a draftsman and enrolled in a special vocational school.

When the Second World War broke out it became very hard to find work - especially in my profession, and especially as a Jew. People were grateful to have any job at all.

One day I applied for a job at a huge woodworking factory that produced furniture and other items for the government. The plant was French-owned, and the workers were Arabs and Jews.

Because it was wartime, the factory was open seven days a week. As soon as I walked through the doors I vowed to myself that I would never desecrate the Sabbath, no matter what happened. I presented myself to the supervisor, and after a short interview I was hired.
For a whole week I worked very diligently, so much so that I received several commendations. But I could not stop worrying about the coming Shabbat. No matter how hard I tried, I could not come up with any solution to the problem.

On Shabbat morning I found my feet taking me in the direction of the factory. But I was determined not to do any actual prohibited work, even if it meant being fired. I thanked G-d for every moment that went by without the supervisor noticing me. When eventually he came over, I made believe I was busy solving an equation, but I could tell that he knew I was faking. I said nothing, and he continued on his rounds. I breathed a deep sigh of relief. My first Shabbat had passed without incident.

I continued to be very industrious. The second week passed as the first. My hands worked diligently, but my mind was elsewhere. All I could think about was the coming Shabbat.

Again I found myself in the same situation as before. I stood at my usual workplace, but did not touch any of the wood or machinery. Unfortunately, that day the supervisor showed up early in the morning. I don't know if it was a coincidence or he was checking up on me.

My heart started to pound as he walked over. "Why aren't you working?" he demanded. I didn't answer, and he repeated the question. When I still said nothing he told me, "If you do not start working you will have to leave. You'll have to find a job among the Jews..."

A few minutes later the supervisor returned, but this time he wasn't alone. Walking alongside him was the manager of the factory! My whole body started trembling.

The manager looked a little familiar to me, but I wasn't really sure and I couldn't remember where I might have seen him. The manager gave me the once-over from head to toe before whispering something in the supervisor's ear. The only word I could make out was "draftsman."

It was common knowledge that the plant's draftsman had quit several weeks before. Since then the factory was lacking a full-time draftsman, and the work supervisor, who had been formally trained as a draftsman, was trying to fill two jobs at once. It had never occurred to me to apply for the senior position, as I was too shy.

Suddenly, I found myself being addressed by the manager. "If I'm not mistaken, I signed your diploma from draftsmanship school," he said. At that moment I realized why he looked so familiar. "Yes," I answered.

"Report to my office first thing tomorrow morning," he said, and went back to his other duties.

The next day I began my career as the plant's official draftsman. I was delighted by the unexpected promotion, but still worried about keeping Shabbat. I had a feeling that the whole happy adventure would be coming to an end that Saturday...

Shabbat came. This time I decided to take the initiative. I went to the manager's office and announced, "I don't work on Saturdays." His faced paled, and for a whole minute he was dumbstruck. In the end he didn't say anything and just nodded his head slightly in agreement.
I worked in that plant for many years. And never again did my feet cross its threshold on Shabbat.

One time, in a rare moment of candor, the manager confided, "You should know that never in my life has anyone won an argument with me. You are the first person who ever succeeded, and got me to back down. Can you believe it? A little Jew, barely an adult, got the best of me...."


Source: Reprinted with permission from L'Chaim #654 (5761/Jan. 2001).

Connection: Weekly Reading--Shabbat is the 4th of the 10 Commandments.


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