When Kindness Reshapes History?

In the Chabad school of Kharkov, Ukraine, there was once a brilliant teacher who remained a devout Communist long after the fall of the Soviet Union. She revered Marx, Lenin, Trotsky, and Stalin, and had no love for Judaism. Still, because she taught Russian history exceptionally well, the school hired her on the condition that she stay away from religion.

One day, she quizzed her students on Russian history from the late 18th to the 19th century. “What was the most important event of 1799?” she asked. A student replied, “That was the year Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi was released from prison.” The teacher exploded. “Religion is dead! Who cares about your rabbi? The real event of 1799 was the birth of Alexander Pushkin.” She lectured passionately about Pushkin, Russia’s greatest poet.

Then she continued: “What happened in 1812?” The same student raised his hand and answered: “Pushkin’s bar mitzvah!”

Why Jacob Arrived Empty-Handed

In this week’s portion,  Vayetze, Jacob travels to find a wife—yet he arrives with nothing. Unlike Abraham’s servant, who went with ten camels and lavish gifts, Jacob declares later, “With my staff I crossed this Jordan.”

Why did Isaac—an extremely wealthy man—send Jacob off with nothing?

The Midrash explains: Isaac did send him with wealth. But Esau, intent on killing Jacob, sent his son Eliphaz to ambush him. Eliphaz caught Jacob but, having grown up in Isaac’s home and on his lap, could not bring himself to kill him. Torn between obeying his father and betraying the grandfather who raised him, Eliphaz took Jacob’s possessions instead. “A poor man is considered dead,” Jacob told him, and Eliphaz spared his life.

Thus, Jacob arrived in Charan empty-handed—but alive.

Eliphaz: Raised on Isaac’s Lap

Eliphaz was no saint. He was the son of Esau and the father of Amalek. The Torah suggests deeply immoral behavior: he lived with his father’s wife, fathered Timna with another man’s wife, later married his own daughter, and produced Amalek. His legacy was depravity and cruelty.

Yet the sages say: Eliphaz grew up on the lap of Isaac.
Isaac embraced him, loved him, and raised him with tenderness—despite knowing who he was and who he would become. Isaac, the embodiment of awe and holiness, a prophet who saw the future, still kept Eliphaz close.

This wasn’t naïveté. It was unconditional, unbreakable devotion—a model of a parent’s love.

A Lesson in Unconditional Love

The sages debate the verse, “You are children of the Lord your God.” Rabbi Judah says this applies only when Jews behave like God’s children. Rabbi Meir says it is unconditional: even in failure, a child is still a child. Jewish law follows Rabbi Meir.

Rabbi Meir lived this principle. He continued to learn Torah from his teacher Elisha ben Abuya even after he became a heretic, insisting he eventually repented.

A parent can criticize—but must never disown. Isaac’s love for Eliphaz was steadfast even when Eliphaz’s life went astray.

The Result of Isaac’s Love

One might argue: Isaac’s love was wasted. Eliphaz still lived a corrupt life.

But Isaac’s kindness saved Jacob—and the entire future Jewish people. When Eliphaz confronted Jacob, the memory of Isaac’s love restrained him. Had Jacob been killed, the Jewish nation would never have existed.

Isaac’s embrace of a troubled grandchild saved eternity.

Putin and Chabad

Jewish history in Russia is filled with persecution under both Czars and Communists. Many feared that Vladimir Putin would also be hostile. Yet he became one of the most supportive Russian leaders toward Jews and helped rebuild Jewish life across the former Soviet Union.

Why?

At the 2007 Chabad conference, Chief Rabbi Berel Lazar shared a story Putin told him. As a poor child with absent parents, his next-door neighbors were a Chassidic family who treated him with warmth. They welcomed him into their home, fed him, and showed him kindness—even though he was not Jewish and despite the dangers of showing such friendliness.

Decades later, moved by gratitude,  Putin—then deputy mayor of Leningrad—granted permission to open the city’s first Jewish school. The family belonged to Anatoly Rakhlin, Putin’s beloved wrestling coach, whom he viewed as a father figure.

Kindness leaves a lifelong imprint.

Civility

In 1966, an eleven-year-old African American boy moved into a white Washington, D.C. neighborhood. No one greeted him. He felt unwanted and alone. Then a Jewish woman across the street smiled warmly and said, “Welcome.” Moments later, she brought out a tray of drinks and cream cheese and jelly sandwiches for the children.

That single act changed his life.

The boy, Stephen Carter, later became a Yale law professor and wrote a book titled Civility, crediting that moment—and that Jewish woman, Sara Kestenbaum—for teaching him the power of kindness. In Judaism, he writes, this is called chesed, the recognition that all humans are created in the image of God.

The Message

If a stranger’s kindness can change someone forever, how much more so the love we show our own children and grandchildren. Never allow distance or estrangement to grow. Keep every child close. Even when they struggle, even when they fail—love them fiercely.

You never know whose life you may save.

And you never know which child will one day save the world.

Shabbat Shalom,

Rabbi Yoseph Geisinsky