Have You Only One Blessing?
One Shabbat morning, many years ago, I was walking to shul when I heard someone calling my name.
I turned and recognised an old schoolfriend I hadn’t seen for years.
“Hey, Michael! Where have you been all my life?”
He was standing near the front of a bus queue and beckoned me over.
There I was, wearing a large blue-and-white yarmulke and my Shabbat suit, tallis bag in hand. The last thing I wanted was to give the impression that I, too, was waiting for a bus on Shabbat. So I beckoned him towards me instead.
But Michael wouldn’t budge. He wasn’t about to lose his place in the queue.
We eyed each other, waiting to see who would blink first.
I blinked.
I walked over. We exchanged a high five and burst out laughing, as though the years since our schooldays had never passed. He had recently moved into the neighbourhood and was on his way to work.
A few people from shul passed by, offering curious glances, half-smiles and the occasional nod.
“You know, Sam, I envy you.”
“Envy me? Why?”
“You’ve found the light through becoming religious. I’ve tried. I’ve attended classes, even been on an Aish Discovery programme. But somehow, it never clicked.”
Just then, his bus pulled up. As he prepared to board, he turned to me.
“Sam, give me just one blessing. That one day I’ll find that light too.”
“May you find that light, Michael. Don’t stop looking.”
We gave each other a bear hug, and he boarded the bus.
I continued on my way to shul, his request still on my mind.
A longing for just one blessing lies at the heart of Parashat Toldot.
Esav, the hunter who sold his birthright for a meal, would one day find himself pleading desperately with his father.
Yet the sages reveal another side of Esav through his devotion to his father, Yitzchak. Rabban Shimon ben Gamliel declared that although he had spent his life honouring his own father, he had never approached Esav’s standard. While he served his father in ordinary clothing, Esav would dress in royal garments before attending to Yitzchak (Bereishit Rabbah 65:16).
The Torah tells us:
וַיֶּאֱהַב יִצְחָק אֶת־עֵשָׂו כִּי־צַיִד בְּפִיו וְרִבְקָה אֹהֶבֶת אֶת־יַעֲקֹב
Yitzchak loved Esav because game was in his mouth, while Rivka loved Yaakov.
Bereishit 25:28
In his father’s presence, Esav presented himself as the son Yitzchak wished him to be. Yet, as Rashi explains, the impression he created did not always reflect the life he led.
Despite this, Yitzchak saw the possibility of change in his son. Rabbi Eliyahu Eliezer Dessler explains that he wished to bless Esav with favourable circumstances that might help him overcome his weaknesses. But a blessing could only create the opportunity; the choice remained Esav’s own.
When Yaakov receives the blessing intended for Esav, the Torah records a cry of extraordinary anguish:
וַיִּצְעַק צְעָקָה גְּדֹלָה וּמָרָה עַד־מְאֹד
He cried out an exceedingly great and bitter cry.
Bereishit 27:34
And then comes his heartbreaking plea:
הַבְרָכָה אַחַת הִוא־לְךָ אָבִי
Have you only one blessing, my father?
Bereishit 27:38
Whatever lay behind his tears, his anguish was real.
Yitzchak could not undo what had happened. The principal blessing had already gone to Yaakov. Yet he listened to Esav’s plea and gave him another blessing, though not the one he had hoped for.
A blessing may open a door, but it cannot determine the path someone chooses.
Sometimes, a single blessing is enough to give someone the courage to keep looking.
שבת שלום
שמואל
