The 1

A shliach, we’ll call him Chaim, went out to a city to establish a Chabad House. Slowly but surely he built himself up, organizing all the usual programs and events.

After a while, he had established enough contacts, and experienced enough successes, to decide that he was ready to plan his first “major” event; - a Chanukah party in a rented hall (yes, this is a different story, and it is a truestory). Immediately his staff became involved in the myriad details involved in preparing an event on such a scale. From advertising to inviting, from designing to budgeting, they were up to their ears in work.

Slowly things began to take shape, and the team was filled with cautious optimism. While countless last minute details were being attended to, there was ample reason to anticipate a smashing success.

Finally the big day arrived. The chairs had been rented, the food was delivered, the hall was decorated, and the waiters were ordered. The sound-system was set up, special gifts for the children were acquired, a clown was on the way, and finally, well before zero hour, the family and staff went to get dressed for the celebration (making sure, of course, that none of their clothing was shatnez!)

Chaim came back, early enough, and made some last minute arrangements in the parking lot, to ensure that they could handle parking for extra cars should it become necessary. Then, having done his part, he went inside to prepare to greet the guests.

The program was only called for 8:00, and it was 7:30, so Chaim was finally able to relax slightly while he waited. He conversed calmly with one of his colleagues about some of the details of the evening.

After a while he glanced at his watch. 8:07. They were meant to start 7 minutes ago! Oh well, Jews (especially those who – he hoped – were heading towards becoming affiliated with Lubavitch) weren’t known for their punctuality. But, although not (yet) overly concerned, he relocated to the window, where he would glance towards the parking lot periodically.

8:20: Chaim was starting to get frantic. Where is everybody?! Chaim, by now, had moved to outside, and was peering up and down the street in all directions. Where are the hundreds of guests we were expecting?

8:30: Everyone is getting panicky. The adults are saying Tehillim fervently, and hoping against hope that there will still be an eleventh hour breakthrough (after all, the program was supposed to last at least until 10). The children are sampling the food from the vast containers (that appears now to be (for the most part) headed to waste).

8:45: A car pulls into the parking lot, and everyone holds their collective breath. It turns out to be one of the waiters they had ordered. Chaim, devastated, doesn’t have the ability to deal with him.

9:00: The hall is starting to look and feel like a funeral parlor. Chaim, very literally, feels like digging a hole and burying himself. How could things have gone so wrong?! The few staff are alternating between feelings of mourning, and pity for poor Chaim. Someone cracks a joke about them not needing to cook food for the foreseeable future. Nobody smiles.

9:23: Somebody, a stranger, wanders into the building and walks over to Chaim. “Excuse me Rabbi, but I heard there’s supposed to be some Hanuka party here tonight?!” Chaim is too embarrassed to look the guest in the face, and mumbles something about the event having been cancelled, while pointedly steering him towards the door. He sighs in relief when he hears the car drive off.

Somehow they survived the awful evening, cleaned up the hall, and got off to bed. The next day, a very disheartened Chaim wrote a depressing duch to the Rebbe with all the details about the grand Chanuka extravaganza that wasn’t, and how hundreds of expected attendees ended up being one hapless latecomer, who they had no choice but to send away.

The Rebbe responded (according to another version, I heard it was Rabbi Chodakov who made this point to him): “When you make an event, if you’re very successful, you may attract 1000 guests. In the course of the evening, you may manage to personally greet 100 of them. Of those, 10 may display enough interest to continue their connection with you. Of those 10, you may actually succeed in convincing one to change his life, to become a shomer Torah and Mitzvos, which was the ultimate goal of the entire event. Here, the Eibishter sent you that one person directly, the ultimate goal of your program, so that you can get directly to your objective without having to go through 999 nudniks en route, and you actually went and SENT HIM AWAY??!!”