What's Growing On?

The following is taken from www.asimplejew.blogspot.com:

The son of a certain Rebbe that I was close to, once read in Noam Elimelech (by Rebbe Elimelech of Lizensk) that one is forbidden to look out of his 4 amos (one's immediate radius). After that, this young man started walking with his head bent down, so that he could be sure not to look out of his immediate space.

His father, the Rebbe, saw this, and asked him what he was doing.

When the son explained how he was following the directive of the Noam Elimelech, his father was visibly upset and explained:

"Chassidus does not want you to walk into trees. The meaning of this directive is to teach us that we should never judge or look askance at another individual! Rebbe Elimelech means that you should be busy with your own 4 amos - your own space - not worrying about someone else's shortcomings. If you have a problem with what you see, work on yourself - tricks are not for chassidim."

What is the essence of happiness? According to the Talmud, it's doing something that will bring happiness to others.

No less a figure than Rebbi, known also as Yehuda Hanassi or Judah the Prince, celebrated Purim, the holiday of quintessential happiness, by planting a tree (Megila 5b). Rebbi, whom we don't normally think of as a gardener, edited the Mishna during the second century. He was one of the greatest scholars, as well as one of the wealthiest men, of his era.

The Gemara continues (Megila 6a) with a description of the horticultural paradise of Tiberias, where Rebbi lived, and its surroundings. Tosafot, the medieval commentary on the Gemara, explains that Tveriya (Hebrew for Tiberias) consists of the words tova and re'eya, meaning "good appearance," and refers to the gardens and orchards that were planted there. We also learn that the Kinneret was named for the fruits grown in that locale which were "as sweet as the sounds of a harp (kinor)."

You cannot help but wonder why Rebbi, even if he did reside in the garden capital of ancient Israel, was planting a tree on Purim. He could have been learning Torah. He was rich and had many servants. He could easily have given orders to one of them to plant a tree instead of doing the work himself. He also had many students, any one of whom would have considered it a great honor to plant a tree for the most esteemed scholar of that generation.

Indeed, as the Gemara relates, astonishment was expressed at the sight of Rebbi planting a tree, but not because a person of his stature was engaged in manual labor. During Rebbi's time, in many cities it was a custom to abstain from work on Purim. Thus, someone who thought Tiberias was such a non-working city was shocked to see Rebbi planting there. Ultimately, the Gemara provides the following explanation for Rebbi's activity: "He was planting for a simha (joyful occasion)."

Here, it is useful to remember that Purim, the holiday of supreme happiness, is celebrated by bringing happiness to others. The two major mitzvot of Purim - celebrated last week - involve giving. One, mishloah manot, prescribes sending gifts of food and drink to friends and acquaintances, and the second, matanot l'evyonim, demands providing financial or other assistance to the poor. Unlike any other holiday. we are also instructed to have a feast, which presents an additional opportunity for giving joy to others by providing them with a lavish repast.

Perhaps now we can understand why Rebbi himself was planting a tree on Purim, instead of delegating the job to someone else. He wanted to do something that embodied the essence of the holiday. Planting a tree, by definition, is an act that eventually brings happiness to others. If you plant a tree for its fruit, you will invariably share the harvest with your neighbors. An apricot, plum or fig tree produces so much ripe fruit at once that, if you don't give most of it away, it will spoil before you have a chance to consume it. If you plant a slow-growing tree - an oak or a carob, let's say - for its shade, you may not live long enough to see it get large and may not personally derive benefit from it. Yet generations that come after you will sit below its massive canopy and appreciate its cooling presence.

The Gemara specifies "planting a royal arbor" as one type of labor that was permissible on Purim, even where local custom forbade other forms of work. A royal arbor, Rashi explains, consisted of a fruit tree trained on an arching frame that provided shade and sweet refreshment on hot days.

In horticulture, bending fruit tree branches over arbors or gazebos or upon trellises is known as espalier. It is an art that originated in ancient Egypt and first appeared in Europe in monasteries during the Middle Ages. Espalier is especially suitable for small areas such as courtyards, side yards or narrow garden beds.

Aside from taking up less space, espalier trees produce fruit earlier and have heavier crops, per meter of branches, than free-standing trees. The reason for this is a change in hormonal balance, in favor of fruitfulness, that occurs when branches are bent to the horizontal. Anyone who has observed the large number of fruits on the lower, more horizontal branches of certain fruit trees can appreciate this effect.

Espalier trees, since they seldom exceed two to three meters in height, have the advantage of being easier to harvest and prune than conventional trees. When training an espalier tree next to a wall, allow 20 centimeters of space between tree and wall for air to circulate. South-facing walls provide an extra measure of heat to plants espaliered in front of them, an advantage if your winter is occasionally frosty but you still want to grow tropical trees.

Three types of espalier structure or design are generally seen. Branches are bent into the palmette or menora configuration, the horizontal cordon or multitiered system or the diagonal cordon or diamond-patterned Belgian lattice.

Fruit trees with flexible stems are recommended as espalier subjects. Fig, apple, pear and quince trees are most suitable, but citrus, persimmon and guava trees are also amenable to espalier planting as, of course, are grapevines. Dwarf or semi-dwarf trees are preferable to standard types. Many ornamental shrubs and trees are also readily trained up arbors or along trellises. The list includes camellia, hibiscus, pyracantha, cotoneaster, forsythia, magnolia, ginkgo and Japanese maple

'The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He makes me lie down in blossoms that come from the richness of the world-to-come." This interpretative version of the 23rd Psalm is based on Midrash Tehilim, which was compiled in the Land of Israel more than 1,300 years ago. (See The Midrash on Psalms, xxiii, 6, Yale University Press, William Braude translation).

We are used to the reassurance of lying down in "green pastures," which is how the King James translation renders deshe in verse 2. Yet, according to the Midrash, green pastures are an inadequate metaphor for the goodness God provides for us, whether in this world or the next.

As Rashi points out in his commentary to Genesis, the appearance of deshe on the third day of creation included much more than meadows or pastures. Deshe, in fact, consisted of every sort of flora, excepting trees, that covered the land. If you want to think of deshe as grass, that's fine, but you could just as well consider it a diverse collection of lush and fragrant plants.

Immediately after the psalmist proclaims that, since God is his shepherd, he lacks for nothing, deshe is mentioned. It makes sense, then, that deshe is more than pastureland.

If an ordinary shepherd provides grass for his flock of sheep, would not God bring to human beings, the pinnacle of creation, something more? Yet the experience of lacking nothing has little, if anything, to do with physical reality. It is, instead, a pervasive awareness of God's protective presence in this world.

Several commentators, including Rashi, are of the opinion that David, the author of this psalm, could not have been talking about a pasture in any case. According to them, the setting of the 23rd Psalm was not a grassy meadow but a forest to which David fled when he was running away from Saul. David found refuge in the Haret Forest, so-called because the ground beneath its trees was as dry as a piece of pottery or heres, which is cognate with haret. It was this dry forest which was miraculously transformed into a lush refuge redolent of the world to come. There is also a Mount Haret, incidentally, which is part of the expanse west of Jerusalem that has been proposed for large-scale municipal development.

Whether the 23rd Psalm is talking about a pasture or a forest may not really be that important since, in a moment of grave danger while being hunted as a fugitive, David confidently proclaims that he lacks nothing. He ends the psalm not by lamenting Saul's pursuit of him, but by taking satisfaction that "only goodness and mercy will pursue me all the days of my life." For someone imbued with faith, things may be the opposite of what they seem. While an ordinary person, being chased by a king, would feel mortally endangered, David somehow stays unruffled and feels secure.

If it was a forest to which David fled, it probably consisted primarily of the Palestine oak (Quercus coccifera calliprinos), the dominant native forest species in the Land of Israel. It is a subspecies of the kermes oak, which gets its name from a scale insect (Kermes ilicis), called tola'at hashani in the Torah, that lives on its foliage. Until recently, the dye made from this insect was thought to be crimson (the English equivalent of kermes) or scarlet in color. A few years ago, however, Zohar Amar of Bar-Ilan University, utilizing ancient dye extraction techniques, proved that the dye extracted from the Israeli oak scale insect is actually orange in color. Josephus had said the dye resembled the color of fire, and this has been mistakenly interpreted as red instead of orange.

The Palestine oak is evergreen and reaches a stature commensurate with available growing conditions. In poor soils, it does not grow to more than one meter tall. Typically, though, it reaches a height of around five meters and, occasionally, exceeds 10 meters in height. Its canopy is round and its leaves are spiny. It is a striking ornamental tree and grows slowly so that it is appropriate for balcony planters, patio containers and small garden spaces. It can take full sun or partial shade.

Acorns of Palestine oak ripen during their second year on the tree. In order to germinate acorns, it is essential that they not be allowed to dry out. Either plant them in the fall or early winter immediately after picking or, if picked later, store them in the refrigerator in moist sand or peat moss for spring planting. They require at least four weeks of moist stratification (cold exposure), whether in the ground or the refrigerator, to germinate.

Rabbi Aharon Levine, in his Hadrash VehaIyun, links Tu Bishvat and Purim by reminding us that the former comes 30 days before the latter. Since we are enjoined to study the laws of each holiday 30 days before it arrives, we can derive the meaning of Purim by learning about Tu Bishvat. What we learn is that the most powerful forces in the world are unseen. Tu Bishvat is the new year of the trees. It may seem strange to celebrate the renewal of trees when they do not yet show visible signs of life, yet now is when their life-giving sap begins to flow. Tzadikim, who are compared to trees, are also known for their humility and do great things although we may not know their names. Similarly, when we read the Megilla on Purim, we notice that God's name is not mentioned even once, even though He is clearly behind the remarkable sequence of events that take place.

According to the Kabbala, we are all destined to live up to the legacy revealed in our names. This truth was made clear in the life of Erez Levanon, of blessed memory. In Psalm 104, arzei Levanon (cedars of Lebanon) are described as "trees of the Lord that drink their fill." According to the commentaries, this refers to the extraordinary attention God lavishes on cedars of Lebanon because of the special mission to which they have been assigned. Erez Levanon, too, was given such a mission.

In the Torah, the word erez does not only mean cedar, as it is usually translated, but also has a more generic meaning that includes every type of shade and forest tree (see page 156 of Etzei Besamim, Ya'ar Venoi, a meticulously researched volume on biblical trees, by Yehuda Feliks).

Erez Levanon may have stood out as a humble, musical mystic from Bat Ayin, who strummed his guitar and sang to children as they walked to school, but he was really no different from the many Jews he touched who, underneath, shared his yearning for God. Erez had the rare ability to connect with every Jew, whether black hat and bearded, clean-shaven or tattooed. Each year, Erez made a trip to India, where he mingled with the thousands of young Israelis who, in search of escape, adventure or God, travel east. Erez brought many of them back into the fold.

Erez Levanon was the elusive, pure and holy Jew we all long to meet, the kind of Jew described in a story told by the Sokolover Rebbe when he was asked to describe "the most real Jew" he had ever known. The Sokolover's grandfather was the famous Kotzker Rebbe, who never tired of proclaiming that God only loves what's real. So, as a young man, the Sokolover went up and down the aisles of his shul looking for a real Jew. He checked among the rich, the poor, the old scholars and the young students, but could not find a real Jew among them. Finally, he saw someone who was just standing and reading psalms, but with the greatest sincerity, his face aglow - a real Jew.

Erez Levanon's final act was communing with God in a forest in Bat Ayin, where he was murdered. When his lifeless body was found, it glowed with ethereal light.

The Jew in the Sokolover's story was a water carrier who brought water to his shul before dawn, without payment, so that people could wash before the morning prayers. Erez Levanon had a practice of playing his guitar at weddings and bar mitzva parties, at no charge, for poor families.

Cedars of Lebanon, as Psalm 104 relates, are inviting, giving trees in which birds of every kind make their homes. In Midrash Tehillim on Psalm 104, we read that cedars of Lebanon did not have to be created since there were many other trees suitable for lumber. There was only one reason for which cedars of Lebanon were created and that was to glorify God when their timbers were formed into the massive beams of the Holy Temple which Solomon built. It is evident that Erez Levanon, in both life and death, was also created for the purpose of bringing glory to God's name.

There are four species of cedar trees, all native to mountainous regions. Aside from the cedar of Lebanon, which may live for more than 1,000 years, there is the Deodor cedar, a massive tree with shaggy limbs from the western Himalayas, the Atlas cedar, a handsome, stiff-neeedled specimen from the Atlas mountains of Morocco, and the Cyprus cedar, growing at high elevations on the island that bears its name.

Cedar cones may be opened by soaking them in water for 48 hours. Once seeds are removed and dried, they can be stored for three years or longer without losing their viability. When you decide to germinate the seeds, soak them in tap water at room temperature for a few hours and then partially dry them in the sun for no more than 15 minutes. Afterward, place them in a thin plastic bag. Fold over the top of the bag and put it in the refrigerator until the seeds sprout, which should occur in less than a month.

As baby roots emerge from the seeds, transfer them to a fast-draining soil mix that is equal parts sand and peat moss (kavul in Hebrew). Carefully place the roots in the soil in Styrofoam cups or other small containers, leaving the tops of the seeds exposed. Cedar seedlings are highly sensitive to damping off, a fungus disease that kills inchoate plants when seeds are completely buried.

Planting seeds too deep is a common mistake of novice gardeners. In nature, seeds drop onto the ground and, still on the soil surface, somehow manage to germinate. Often they are protected only by leaf litter. We should take our cue from nature and plant on the soil surface, or just below it, protecting our seeds with nothing more than a light covering of compost or mulch.

Although cedar trees eventually grow large, they can be confined to containers for years. Cedars are slow growing and may remain in average-sized (15-20 liter) containers for 10 years or longer without needing repotting. You can keep a tree in any size pot by root pruning, a task to be performed when roots start to circle the inside of the pot or begin growing through drainage holes. Remove no more than one third of the roots, from sides and bottom, before refilling the container with fresh soil and repotting.

What is going on in the world? What is growing wrong in the world?
Children grow up wrong. When you take God out of a child's life, a child grows up wrong.
It is not easy to write these words. Just mention God and you hear hordes of cynics laughing.
Religious wars are used as examples of the excesses of religion. 9/11 is used as an example of the excesses of religion. But religion often has little to do with God. Religion is often used to justify outrageous, rapacious, even psychopathic behaviors.
God is the still, small voice that Elijah heard. God is not some vast mystery out there. God is that quiet mystery within every human soul. Children need to make contact with the still, small voice inside of them. Everyone listens but few can actually hear the reassuring divine voice that speaks from within. It's the job of adults to teach children how to listen for and hear that voice.

The Sabbath is a time of peace.
The world stops for 25 hours. We acknowledge that God is in charge.
If you are shipwrecked, suddenly find yourself stranded on an island, and lose all track of time, you observe the sun rising and setting six times, and then celebrate the Sabbath.
A famous rabbi was once asked about this shipwreck scenario. The rabbi laughed. "When the Sabbath approaches, I can feel it coming. I don't need a calendar. I don't need a clock."
That's what being in touch with God is all about. Even the most secular person lives life in tune with the seven day cycle. And the only reason we live our lives by the seven day cycle is because the world was created in six days and God rested on the seventh. God's words, spoken in Genesis, form the most basic framework of our daily lives.