Welcome to the Daily Dose of Bitachon.
We are continuing our discussion on the topic of Hakarat Hatov (gratitude). Rav Wolbe, in the previously mentioned va'ad in Alei Shur (Volume 2), explains that one of the primary accomplishments of Hakarat Hatov is that it generates love.
The Gemara in Masechet Beitzah (16a) teaches that if someone gives bread to a child, they have an obligation to let the mother know. What does this mean in practice? Rashi explains that one should place a mark or indicator on the child. For example, if you give a child a jelly doughnut, leave a little jelly on their forehead. Why? When the child returns home, the mother will ask, "Who gave this to you?" The child will reply, "So-and-so gave it to me." This allows the parents to realize that this person cares for their child, fostering endearment, friendship, and unity. We see a fundamental principle here: when a favor is recognized and acknowledged, it actively deepens love and connection.
Therefore, when doing a personal favor for someone, giving anonymously does not always achieve the ideal result—unlike charity (tzedakah) for the poor, where anonymity is virtuous. If you are sending a friend a gift, such as a bottle of wine, leaving it on the doorstep without a name misses the point of fostering connection.
We see a similar concept regarding Mishloach Manot. According to the view that the primary purpose of Mishloach Manot is to foster friendship and close bonds, delivering them anonymously fails to fulfill that objective. An anonymous gift cannot generate mutual affection, recognition, and endearment between two people. (Of course, if the purpose is strictly to provide food for the Purim seudah, the physical need is met; however, to build love, personal recognition is essential.)
When it comes to Hakarat Hatov, there are three distinct dimensions:
Bein adam la-Makom (between man and God)
Bein adam la-chavero (between man and his fellow)
Bein adam le-atzmo (between man and himself)
This third dimension is the profound insight (chiddush) of Rav Wolbe. Normally, we assume gratitude is purely an obligation toward the giver. Rav Wolbe explains that it is fundamentally about the recipient. It means developing an internal sensitivity: recognizing that you have received something and feeling the innate urge to reciprocate. It is not merely an external social nicety or polite etiquette; it is an internal refinement of character. Even if the giver is no longer around to receive your thanks, the obligation to express gratitude remains because it shapes who you are.
A powerful example of this involves Mr. Ralph Tawil, a philanthropist and community leader in the Syrian Jewish community who was a passionate advocate for giving ma'aser (tithes). I once heard him share his life story at a dinner. Having lost his mother at a young age after emigrating from a Spanish-speaking country, he and his brother grew up in a Brooklyn orphanage. Decades later, as a successful businessman in his eighties, he reflected: "I lived in that orphanage for years. Someone paid for my room, my board, and my food. Who were those people?"
He sought out the organization, but it had long since closed and been absorbed by another entity. Even if it were still running, the original benefactors were no longer alive. Nevertheless, feeling an overwhelming urge to repay that debt, he called the president of the successor organization and said, "I want to sponsor a dinner, serve as the guest of honor, and raise substantial funds for your cause." Surprised, the director asked where this sudden generosity came from. Mr. Tawil replied, "I benefited from this institution. I may not know who paid for me, but I have a duty to give back." The original givers were not there to receive the honor, but the act was about fulfilling his own internal need for gratitude.
Similarly, I heard of a man who attended yeshiva on full scholarship because his parents could not afford tuition. Years later, after achieving financial success, he asked himself, "Who funded my education?" He called the Rosh Yeshiva and asked for the full cost of tuition from pre-1A through twelfth grade. Calculating thirteen years at roughly $10,000 per year, he wrote a check for $130,000, explaining, "I need to pay back what I was given."
Rav Wolbe points out that this idea is embedded in the Pesach Haggadah: we say that we are obligated "le-hallel, le-shabe'ach, u-lefa'er le-mi she-asa..." ("to praise, laud, and glorify the One Who performed miracles for our ancestors and for us"). Why use the phrase "to the One Who performed," rather than simply addressing Hashem directly? It teaches us that gratitude begins with the awareness of having received; the urge to thank arises from our identity as recipients, directed toward whoever provided the benefit.
This explains why our tradition contains many examples of showing gratitude even to inanimate objects or entities unaware of the gesture:
- Moshe Rabbeinu refused to strike the Nile River to initiate the plagues of Blood (Dam) and Frogs (Tzefardeia) because the water had protected his basket when he was an infant. Likewise, he did not strike the earth to bring the plague of Lice (Kinim) because the sand had concealed the Egyptian he had slain. The sand and water have no feelings, but the act refined Moshe's own character.
- The Rif (Rabbeinu Yitzchak Alfasi), cited in the Shita Mekubetzet (Bava Kamma 92b), once refused to judge a case involving a bathhouse because he had derived personal benefit from it. Even in a scenario where an impartial judge could guarantee complete objectivity (such as through absolute verification), he maintained that one should not act against a party from whom they have benefited, as doing so runs counter to the trait of Hakarat Hatov.
- Rav Wolbe demonstrated this deeply. I once had the privilege of sharing a Friday night meal with Rav Wolbe and his wife. During our conversation about clothing, I mentioned wanting to buy a new pair of pants and discussed the costs. Rav Wolbe pointed to his frock coat and said, "I had this made for my daughter's wedding eighteen years ago. The longer I wear it, the more I appreciate it. It has kept me warm for nearly two decades. I don't want to discard it—we have a relationship." While modern culture embraces a disposable mindset of constantly replacing goods, previous generations mended and valued what served them. Rav Wolbe viewed his belongings through the lens of gratitude.
- Rav Gustman was known to personally water the plants in his garden, explaining that the forest foliage had provided him cover and saved his life while hiding from the Nazis.
- Rav Eliyahu Lopian made a point of feeding the stray cats around the yeshiva to show appreciation for keeping the premises free of mice and pests.
Returning to our opening theme: Hakarat Hatov creates and sustains love. Rav Wolbe emphasizes that relationships lacking continuous gratitude cannot endure. When a couple marries, there is natural affection at the start. However, as time passes, if husband and wife do not consistently acknowledge each other's daily contributions, that initial affection can fade into indifference or resentment. The same principle applies to relationships between parents and children, business partners, or coworkers.
Living or working closely with others inevitably reveals their flaws, weaknesses, and irritating habits. How do we preserve harmony and warmth in the face of natural friction? The answer is to actively focus on the good they do for us.
The Gemara relates that a certain Sage whose wife treated him difficultly still made a point of bringing her gifts. When asked why he treated her with such devotion, he answered: "It is sufficient for us that our wives raise our children and save us from sin." That baseline awareness of gratitude sustained the marriage.
As the verse states: "Al kol pesha'im techaseh ahavah"—"Love covers all transgressions" (Mishlei 10:12). Where does this enduring love come from? It is built on the foundation of Hakarat Hatov. Just as the mark on the child's forehead prompts recognition and builds affection among neighbors, consistent gratitude serves as the vital bedrock for all lasting, loving relationships.