3 Hellos

All stories are true, but some have never happened. Here are 3 stories about the importance of seeing another human being.

1. This is cut and pasted from Treppenwitz's blog. I've heard the story several times, but never in the exact same way. In some tellings the context is Jewish and in others not. A version of this tale appears in print in one of one of Chaim Walder's many books.


A group of about 50 ultra-religious shochtim (the plural of shochet) from all over the world were flown to Argentina to spend a couple of weeks slaughtering a large order of animals which were to be put into frozen storage for use by the community over the course of several months.

They arrived, checked into their hotel, and each day of their stay they followed the same itinerary:

Left their hotel early in the morning to take chartered buses to the slaughterhouse.

Spent the day slaughtering and checking the animals and placing the kosher meat into a locked freezer storage unit.

Took the chartered buses back to the hotel in the evening.

The last day of their work followed the same itinerary except that instead of returning to the hotel for the night, the chartered buses were only scheduled to stop at the hotel to pick up their luggage and then take them to the airport for their flights back to their various countries.

When the men were passing the gates to the slaughterhouse for the last time the security guard refused to let them board their buses, insisting that someone was missing. A quick count revealed that one of them was, in fact, unaccounted for.

A search of the slaughterhouse turned up no sign of the man and the group's leader was about to call the police when someone suggested they look in the locked freezer unit where all of the kosher meat they had slaughtered had been put.

Sure enough, the missing man was found there... extremely cold, but otherwise unhurt. However, if he had been left in there until the first shipment of meat was scheduled to be picked up, he would certainly have been long dead.

When the group's leader asked the security guard how he had realized that someone was missing, since with their long beards and almost identical clothes they probably looked alike to the non-Jew, the guard answered "the missing man was the only one of your group who ever said 'hello' and 'good-bye' to me".

2. Good Morning, Herr Mueller By Yaffa Eliach
(from Yaffa Eliach, Hasidic Tales of the Holocaust. New York: Avon Books, 1982. Pages 129-30. Used by permission of the author. Dr. Eliach writes that this story was "based on my conversation with an elderly Hasidic personality.")
(the permission was granted to this site: the site this was copied from )

Near the city of Danzig lived a well-to-do Hasidic Rabbi, scion of prominent Hasidic dynasties. Dressed in a tailored black suit, wearing a top hat, and carrying a silver walking cane, the rabbi would take his daily morning stroll, accompanied by his tall, handsome son-in-law.
During his morning walk it was the rabbi's custom to greet every man, woman, and child whom he met on his way with a warm smile and a cordial "Good morning." Over the years the rabbi became acquainted with many of his fellow townspeople this way and would always greet them by their proper title and name.

Near the outskirts of town, in the fields, he would exchange greetings with Herr Mueller, a Polish Volksdeutsche (ethnic German). "Good morning, Herr Mueller!" the rabbi would hasten to greet the man who worked in the fields. "Good morning, Herr Rabbiner!" would come the response with a good-natured smile.

Then the war began. The rabbi's strolls stopped abruptly. Herr Mueller donned an S.S. uniform and disappeared from the fields.(*) The fate of the rabbi was like that of much of the rest of Polish Jewry. He lost his family in the death camp of Treblinka, and, after great suffering, was deported to Auschwitz.

One day, during a selection at Auschwitz, the rabbi stood on line with hundreds of other Jews awaiting the moment when their fates would be decided, for life or death. Dressed in a striped camp uniform, head and beard shaven and eyes feverish from starvation and disease, the rabbi looked like a walking skeleton.

"Right! Left, left, left!" The voice in the distance drew nearer. Suddenly the rabbi had a great urge to see the face of the man with the snow-white gloves, small baton, and steely voice who played God and decide who should live and who should die. His lifted his eyes and heard his own voice speaking:

"Good morning, Herr Mueller!"

"Good morning, Herr Rabbiner!" responded a human voice beneath the S.S. cap adorned with skull and bones. "What are you doing here?" A faint smile appeared on the rabbi's lips. The baton moved to the right - to life. The following day, the rabbi was transferred to a safer camp.
The rabbi, now in his eighties, told me in his gentle voice, "This is the power of a good-morning greeting. A man must always greet his fellow man."

(*)After the German occupation of Poland, many Volksdeutschen were eager to serve the Nazi cause. They joined the Nazis and took revenge upon their Polish neighbors in reprisal for the alleged anti-Volksdeutschen pogroms that took place in Poland in the late 1930's. See Hans Schadeaaldt, comp., Polish Acts of Atrocity against the German Minority in Poland: Documenting Evidence, published for the German Foreign Office (Berlin/New York, 1940).

3. This is often passed around on email Again, there are many different versions of the same story.

Each day is a gift... and you never know how you can make the difference.

One day, when I was a freshman in high school, I saw a kid from my class was walking home from school. His name was Kyle. It looked like he was carrying all of his books. I thought to myself, "Why would anyone bring home all his books on a Friday? He must really be a nerd." I had quite a weekend planned (parties and a football game with my friends tomorrow afternoon), so I shrugged my shoulders and went on.

As I was walking, I saw a bunch of kids running toward him. They ran at him, knocking all his books out of his arms and tripping him so he landed in the dirt. His glasses went flying, and I saw them land in the grass about ten feet from him. He looked up and I saw this terrible sadness in his eyes. My heart went out to him. So, I jogged over to him and as he crawled around looking for his glasses, and I saw a tear in his eye. As I handed him his glasses, I said, "Those guys are jerks. They really should get lives."

He looked at me and said, "Hey thanks!" There was a big smile on his face. It was one of those smiles that showed real gratitude. I helped him pick up his books, and asked him where he lived. As it turned out, he lived near me, so I asked him why I had never seen him before. He said he had gone to private school before now.

I would have never hung out with a private school kid before. We talked all the way home, and I carried his books. He turned out to be a pretty cool kid. I asked him if he wanted to play football on Saturday with me and my friends. He said yes.

We hung all weekend and the more I got to know Kyle, the more I liked him. And my friends thought the same of him. Monday morning came, and there was Kyle with the huge stack of books again. I stopped him and said, "you are gonna really build some serious muscles with this pile of books everyday!"

He just laughed and handed me half the books.

Over the next four years, Kyle and I became best friends. When we were seniors, began to think about college. Kyle decided on Georgetown, and was going to Duke. I knew that we would always be friends, that the miles would never be a problem. He was going to be a doctor, and I was going for business on a football scholarship. Kyle was valedictorian of our class. I teased him all the time about being a nerd. He had to prepare a speech for graduation. I was so glad it wasn't me having to get up there and speak.

Graduation day, I saw Kyle. He looked great. He was one of those guys that really found himself during high school. He filled out and actually looked good in glasses. He had more dates than me and all the girls loved him! Boy, sometimes I was jealous. Today was one of those days. I could see that he was nervous about his speech. So, I smacked him on the back and said, "Hey, big guy, you'll be great!"

He looked at me with one of those looks (the really grateful one) and smiled. "Thanks," he said.
As he started his speech, he cleared his throat, and began "Graduation is a time to thank those who helped you make it through those tough years. Your parents, your teachers, your siblings, maybe a coach... but mostly your friends. I am here to tell all of you that being a friend to someone is the best gift you can give them. I am going to tell you a story."

I just looked at my friend with disbelief as he told the story of the first day we met. He had planned to kill himself over the weekend. He talked of how he had cleaned out his locker so his Mom wouldn't have to do it later and was carrying his stuff home. He looked hard at me and gave me a little smile. "Thankfully, I was saved. My friend saved me from doing the unspeakable."

I heard the gasp go through the crowd as this handsome, popular boy told us all about his weakest moment. I saw his mom and dad looking at me and smiling that same grateful smile. Not until that moment did I realize it's depth.

Never underestimate the power of your actions. With one small gesture you can change a person's life. For better or for worse. God puts us all in each other's lives to impact one another in some way. Look for good in others.

Each day is a gift from God! Don't forget to say, "Thank you!"