The Empty Chair

Sometimes, your kindness reaches further than you could ever imagine.

For the first time in almost a year, he took a second plate out of the cupboard.

He stood holding it for a moment.

Then he placed it on the Shabbos table, opposite his own.

It was such a small thing.

But for him, it meant more than anyone could have imagined.

You see, there had been a time when his Friday nights were rarely spent alone.

He loved having guests for Shabbos. Nothing elaborate — some homemade soup, chicken, challos, perhaps a little dessert. There was always conversation, laughter, and usually someone staying far longer than they had intended.

He wasn't wealthy.

But he was generous with what he had.

Then life took an unexpected turn.

His working hours were reduced, the bills began piling up, and suddenly even the weekly shopping became a struggle.

He stopped buying the little extras. Then he started cutting back on the basics.

And eventually, he stopped inviting people for Shabbos.

Not because he no longer wanted their company.

But because he could no longer afford to put a meal in front of them.

He still went to shul. Still smiled and wished everyone Good Shabbos.

But afterwards, while others went home to family and friends, he returned to his quiet house.

A simple supper.

One plate.

One chair.

And another Friday evening stretching ahead.

Nobody really knew.

He wasn't the sort of person who spoke about his difficulties.

And perhaps the hardest part was that he had always been someone who enjoyed giving to others.

Now, he was struggling just to provide for himself.

Then, one Friday, something changed.

With the regular groceries he was receiving through L’Chaim Foodbank, the pressure of finding enough money for food had begun to ease.

There was fresh produce in the fridge, bread in the kitchen, and chicken for Shabbos.

He could prepare a proper meal without worrying about what he would have left for the following week.

And as he looked at the food, a thought crossed his mind.

Perhaps he could invite somebody again.

At shul, he approached a man he knew who was also living alone.

"Have you got somewhere for Friday night?"

"Not really. I'll probably just have something at home."

"Why don't you come to me?"

His friend hesitated.

"Are you sure? I don't want to put you to any trouble."

And for the first time in a very long while, he could answer without worrying.

"It's no trouble at all. I've got plenty."

Four simple words.

But what a difference they made.

That Friday night, there were two plates on the table.

Two glasses beside the Kiddush cup.

Fresh challos, chicken, vegetables, and enough food for them both.

They talked about their week, shared memories, laughed about something that had happened in shul, and enjoyed the simple pleasure of not having to eat alone.

The meal wasn't extravagant.

There was nothing particularly remarkable about the evening.

Except that neither man had to spend another Friday night by himself.

And perhaps the most beautiful part was that someone who had needed help was once again able to offer kindness to somebody else.

Dear <> ,

We wanted to share this story with you because it captures something truly special about the support you make possible through L’Chaim.

You help us provide food to people and families facing difficult circumstances.

You help ease the worry of how to afford the next week's groceries, how to prepare for Shabbos, or how to manage when the household budget simply isn't enough.

But occasionally, the difference goes much further.

A person who has been struggling finds a little breathing space.

Someone who has withdrawn from friends begins to reconnect.

And someone who thought they had nothing left to give discovers that they can still offer another person a warm welcome.

Because of your kindness, someone who needed help was able to become the person helping somebody else.

And that is something quite extraordinary.

As we approach another Shabbos, there are people throughout our community who will be sitting down to meals made possible through your generosity.

Some will be surrounded by children and family.

Others may be on their own.

But perhaps, somewhere, an extra chair will be pulled up to a table.

An extra plate will be laid.

And two people who might otherwise have eaten alone will enjoy a Shabbos meal together.

All because there was enough food to share.