It is told about the Tzaddik of Jerusalem, Rabbe Aryeh Levine (1885-1969), that people would come to him, crying about their problems and tribulations – and would exit his house not only in a good mood, but with a sense that their problems had been solved.

A famous psychiatrist was so impressed with these stories of Reb Aryeh that he once asked him, "What is it that you do with these people? How do they end up leaving you in such a better mood?"

Reb Aryeh answered simply: "I just listen to them."

The psychiatrist nodded: "Yes, listening is a great thing."

Another story was told by the writer Yaakov David Abramsky about himself. He said that after his son fell in the War of Independence in 1948, he found himself one night walking aimlessly around the streets of Jerusalem, and at one point just sat down somewhere and started crying bitterly. No one heard him, no one came to comfort him – until suddenly, from across broad Jaffa St. came Reb Aryeh Levine, who warmly placed the writer's hands in his and stroked them to comfort him. Reb Aryeh was the only one in the world who noticed him and his sadness. "Yes, I was still alone," concluded Abramsky, "but I was no longer all by myself." [These stories are recounted in the work by Simcha Raz about Rabbi Levine.]

In truth, there is a great secret here; would it be that we could walk even a bit in the path of R. Aryeh. People simply have a need for someone to listen to them, and primarily – someone who will give them "space."

I've noticed that little toddlers, when beginning to speak, point to something and call it by its name (in baby-talk) – and then wait for the adult to repeat what they said. Even at this young age, they need approval, affirmation, and even respect.

And of course, this does not change much as they grow older. Every person, no matter how old or even strong, needs attention and to be given their space by others.

This can explain an important point in this week's Torah portion of Vayeshev (B'reshit 37-40). We read that Yosef HaTzaddik has two dreams that are not received very happily by his brothers – but there is a big difference as to how he relates them.

He tells the first dream to his brothers (37,5-6), and they rebuke him for seemingly wanting to rule over them. But regarding the second dream, we see that he first tells it to his brothers (verse 9) – but then, surprisingly, he tells it once again (verse 10) to both his father and his brothers!

The questions are clear: Why does he tell the second dream to his father, after he told the first one only to his brothers? And why did he apparently plan at first to tell the second dream only to his brothers, and then decide to tell it to his father as well?

The Response is the Key

It would seem that the explanation lies in how, and if, his brothers react to what Yosef told them. After the first dream, they reacted with rebuke – but at least they heard him and responded to him! It is important to be heard, even if negatively! (And of course, we remember that Yosef HaTzaddik was on an exalted level, as is seen later in his behavior in Egypt, and his needs are not only psychological but also spiritual.)

However, when he recounted to them his second dream, they did not respond at all! He therefore tells it again to his father, so that it will have its place in the world. Again, he is met with a rebuke (verse 10) – but at least he, and the dream, are heard. When the brothers ignored him, this was harder than their anger and resentment.

** This also adds further depth to Yaakov's reaction: "His father guarded the matter" (verse 11) – it was his reaction that preserved it and gave it space.

What Saved Yosef From Sin?

In general, Yaakov gave space to all his sons – and we see that for Yosef, this was exactly what saved him later from a great sin. The Talmud (Sotah 36b) tells us that when Potiphar's wife tried to seduce Yosef, this was a great temptation for him, and according to some opinions, he nearly caved in. For he was only a slave servant, sold by his own brothers – and here she was, the only one who gave him attention, respect and space. But then, as the Talmud relates, this happened: "He suddenly remembered his father, whose likeness appeared to him in a vision and said to him, 'Yosef, the names of you and your brothers will one day be written on the stones of the Ephod [in the Tabernacle] – do you want your name to be erased and instead be remembered as one who frequents harlots?'… He immediately desisted."

That is, at the moment of truth he remembered his father, our Patriarch Yaakov, who knew how to give him his own place among all the other brothers. His name among theirs had its own precious stone, and it was this that enabled him to overcome and be saved from sin. For this incident emphasizes that Yaakov told Yosef, "Let not your name be erased from among your brothers' names! Stay with them and be part of them" – and that is what did the trick." (And again, we emphasize that the specific lesson for Yosef must be upgraded, in that what was important for him was not only superficial respect from others, but the framework of spiritual continuity.)

May we also merit to feel the needs of the people around us, give them space and respect, and thus uplift them!

Translated by Hillel Fendel

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