The Banana Man

There were always plenty of fruit and vegetable vendors in the old South Tel Aviv market, but only one of them sold nothing but bananas. No matter what month of the year it was, he always had a stock of bananas. How he did that, no one knew. At any rate, nobody could tell you who Yankel Bialastotzky was; the amicable pot-bellied Polish-born Jew was simply known as “Banana Man”.
 
By selling bananas, the Banana Man succeeded in not only marrying off his four daughters to Torah scholars, but he helped subsidize each of his son-in-law’s Talmudic studies as well. Honest and upright, he never had a bad word to say about a single soul. He’d offer you a smile and a bunch of bananas, and you couldn’t resist buying, whether you were a banana eater or not.
 
One fateful day, The Banana Man’s life of content faced an acute existential threat. A young man in his twenties, recently discharged from the army, opened up a banana stall right across the street.
 
“How can that young whippersnapper have the chutzpa to take my livelihood away from me?” the Banana Man asked himself. “I’ve been selling bananas here since 1963! Is that what you do to an old man?” The Banana Man’s classic smile gradually dissipated into a disgruntled frown. Daily, he was losing more and more of his customers to the young competitor across the street. Within a few short weeks, he had nothing left on his stand but blackish, overripe bananas that no one seemed to want except for the fruit fleas.
 
The Banana Man fell into a deep and dangerous melancholy. One day, as he was praying his early-morning Shacharit, the phrase matzmiach yeshuot seemed to jump out at him. With tearful eyes, he said it over and over again, matzmiach yeshuot… matzmiach yeshuot – Hashem brings salvation! Filled with a new optimism, an idea illuminated the Banana Man’s brain: Go see the Kalinovker Rebbe! He’s a big tzaddik – he’ll know what to do…
 
Scurrying to the Rebbe’s house as fast as he could, the Banana Man knocked on the front door. With a smile full of compassion and brotherly love, the Rebbe welcomed him and ushered him into his study. Overwhelmed with pent-up emotion, the Banana Man broke down and sobbed. His body seemed to shudder from its very core. How could Hashem do this to him? Is the the reward for an upright life?

The Rebbe nodded in understanding. He listened intently to the Banana Man’s every word with genuine empathy. He gave the Banana Man a tissue and then a glass of water. Once the latter calmed down and regained his composure, the Rebbe asked, “So you’ve lost many of your customers, Reb Yankel?” The Rebbe was one of the few people who called the Banana Man by his real name.
 
“Not just ‘many’, Rebbe – almost all of them!”
 
“Reb Yankel,” probed the Rebbe, ‘how much time do you spend thinking about your competitor across the street?”
 
“Rebbe, it obsesses me day and night! I ask myself where he found a supply of bananas in the off-season; where does he find bananas nicer than mine; how can he afford to sell them for a shekel-per-kilo less than I sell them for…”
 
“I understand, Reb Yankel. I want you to do one thing…”
 
“Yes, Rebbe – I’ll do anything you say.”
 
“From this moment on, I want you to focus on your banana stall only. Your business declined because you weren’t attending to it. Instead, you’ve been focused on other people’s business and your business has declined. But don’t fret – Hashem is a loving Father who simply wants to teach you an important lesson. When our noses are in other people’s affairs, we don’t succeed, for we are neglecting our own affairs. Go back to making your stall the best banana business possible, and with Hashem’s help, you shall certainly succeed. You have my blessing!”
 
Overjoyed, the Banana Man forgot protocol and gave the Rebbe a big bear hug. He skipped out the Rebbe’s door with the energy of a ten-year-old. Following the Rebbe’s advice to the letter, he concentrated on his own stall, bring the best, brightest, beautiful bargain-buy Bet-Shean bananas. Business was back on its feet and the Banana Man’s broad smile brightened his face. He learned his lesson, just as the Rebbe said – keep your nose in your own bananas…
 
So many of us waste our energies looking at others, or concerned with what they’re doing. We could be channeling the same time and energy into our own affairs.
 
Jealousy and coveting don’t add blessings to a person’s life; they can’t, for they are serious transgressions of Torah that lead to other serious transgressions. We don’t want to go there! By attending to our own affairs and by being happy with our own lot in life, we invoke every blessing, both material and spiritual.
 
The next time you eat a banana, remember the story about the Banana Man. Smile, thank Hashem, and be happy with what you have, for that is true emuna.