Long Spoons

This is a parable that Sam told me years ago. He learned at day camp, though it is officially attributed to Rabbi Haim of Romshishok. It has stayed with me, and of late, has circled back with urgency.

An old woman is approaching death. One night, after she closes her eyes, she is transported to another realm. At dawn, she returns to the living world to find her family gathered at her bedside. She smiles and whispers to her children, “I have seen both heaven and hell.”

“Tell us about them,” they say.

“First, I saw hell. Inside there were no pits of fire or devices of torture, only an enormous banquet hall with a table set with a beautiful feast. The people at the table were writhing with hunger pangs, emaciated. I didn’t understand the abundance of food surrounded by starving people, but then I saw each person had a very long spoon strapped to their arms, so they could not bend their elbows. The spoons were long enough to reach the feast, but they could not bring the food to their mouths. They were eternally starving, despite the plentiful food right in front of them.

Then, I was shown heaven.  It looked exactly like hell, the banquet hall, the table set with an abundant feast, but the people gathered around were laughing with each other, happy and satiated. They also had the long spoons strapped up their arms, but instead of trying to feed themselves, they took turns feeding each other, and all were thriving.”

This election could go either way. But I am comforted to know that many of us live the lesson of this parable, and no election outcome alters our conviction that the only way we rise is together.