Hebrew Word Study – In Harmony With God – Tov טוב Teth Vav Beth
Genesis 1:21: “…every winged fowl after his kind and God saw that it was good.”
Old Harry passed away last week. Harry was a 97-year-old veteran of World War II. He served in an airborne unit. They were known as paratroopers in those days. He was part of the assault on D-Day and jumped into the enemy territory with his buddies. Only Harry and a couple of others from his entire unit survived to return home. He once told me how he saw many of his buddies shot from the sky as they floated down in their parachutes. Others were quickly surrounded by the enemy and died where they landed or were taken captive and never heard from again. Harry somehow managed to escape.
After the war, Harry returned to his home in Chicago, married, took a job in one of the factories near his home. He worked at that job for almost thirty years until the plant closed and then he went into early retirement on a small pension. His wife passed away about twenty years ago. He had no children and no family that I know of. He pretty much kept to himself. He lived in an apartment building where he made a little deal with the owner to do minor maintenance work and upkeep in return for a discount on his rent. He never spoke of any friends other than those in the VFW. He was always bemoaning the fact that this new generation had fewer veterans and those veterans who did live in the area seemed to have little interest in keeping the VFW going. Sadly, living to be 97, he saw many of his friends from the VFW pass away.
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Thus, Old Harry remained pretty reclusive, except for his bi-monthly trip on my disability bus. Harry had only a small pension on which to live, but he was generous with the VFW and with another group. He would board my bus twice every month, once after he received his social security check and again after his small pension check arrived. He would board my bus proudly wearing his jacket displaying patches showing he was a veteran of World War II and served as an army paratrooper. He would fill me with stories of his old army buddies who never came home from the war. They had common names like George, Sam, Bert, etc. I would drive Old Harry to the local feed store in Summit where the clerk would come out with two twenty-pound bags of seeds and nuts. I would then drive Old Harry to the grocery store where he would pick up a two weeks supply of groceries for himself and then I would drive him home and help carry his purchases into his apartment. Harry always had an envelope with some money in it to tip me. He would drop it on the stairwell and act like he knew nothing about it as I picked it up. I told him that I do not accepts tips, especially from veterans. I never had the opportunity to serve in the military and driving him to perform his errands was a privilege and you just don’t accept tips for something that is a privilege. He reluctantly agreed to the return of the envelope.
One day, as I carried his packages into this apartment he showed me the platform he built on his porch. He had trays filled with seeds and a little birdbath. He also had a tray filled with a variety of nuts. There was a flock of birds on this platform feeding, as well as a couple of squirrels helping themselves to his array of nuts. He explained that the squirrels used to get to the seeds before the birds so he gave them a separate plate filled with nuts which seemed to be working out well. I noticed that he would quickly clean up any of the defilements that his flying friends were prone to leave behind.
He introduced me to his feathered friends and called them by name, George, Sam, Bert, etc. I don’t think it was any coincidence that he named them after his paratroop buddies who never came home. Maybe he associated his birds flying through the air with his days when he and his buddies would fly through the air in their parachutes. I think, maybe feeding these birds was his way to memorialize his fallen friends from the war. After so many years, he never forgot them.
I spoke with the other tenants of the building and they did not seem very fond of Old Harry and his furry and feathered friends. They thought he was just a crazy old mean feeding and talking to these creatures that were nothing but a nuisance around the building. They did not like the idea of so many birds and small animals hanging around, as if they were some sort of riff-raff begging for handouts.
After Old Harry’s passing last week, I drove by his apartment. I suppose the other tenants were not too sad over Harry’s passing. I wondered is anyone came to his funeral or if he even had a funeral. Perhaps the VFW did hold some sort of service for Harry, after which they just went about their business having performed their duty.
I looked up at Harry’s apartment and there was that usual gathering of birds and little animals. I imagined they were looking for their food which would no longer be provided. I wondered why they were there if there was no food? It was then I had a thought, perhaps they were keeping a vigil for their old benefactor who has now gone to be with their namesakes. With that thought, I realized that at least Old Harry did not die friendless
You see, God created the birds of the air and saw that they were good. I wish some Bible translator would use a different word than good. It makes it sound like they were alright, decent, not great, but good. The word good in Hebrew is tov and I remember a rabbi telling me that another way to express tov rather than use the English word good would be to say “in harmony.”
God created the birds of the air and saw they were in tune or in harmony with Him. All of God’s creations are in harmony with Him. We can see his beauty in its many colors and designs. We can see His love in the nurturing care of His creation for their young. We can see the complexity and infinite variety of his creative thoughts in even a small insect. Where Harry’s neighbors saw only a nuisance with all of the creation of God that they attracted, I like to believe Harry saw something else. It is something that we need to pause to try and see when that little bird lands on our porch and starts to sing and dance. We need to pause and not think: “Oh great he is going to poop all over my porch.” But we need to consider that the little fellow is just a gift from the God we love, to draw our attention to Him as I believe they did for Old Harry.
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Chaim, thank you for sharing Harry’s story. It’s a testimony to your open and listening heart to gather those details through trips twice a month. I’m honored to hear yours and other stories of our veterans. I feel God reminding me to be in harmony with him, so that my own ears may be open to the stories of people around me. Especially as so many veterans from our latest wars are home among us.
I just read this story to both of my aunts who are 91 & 92. (Their dad, my grandfather, fought in WWl. Drafted into the army.) They both said, “very good” at the end of your story. In Harmony with God is so much better than the word “good”. We live out in the country and feed birds throughout the year! We love God’s creatures. Thank you for sharing.
If you enjoyed this study you may be interested in my re-release of the book. Hebrew Word Study The Butterfly Effect. It is A word study book using real life situations to illustrate ancient words.
Such a touching story you’ve shared. I wholeheartedly believe that each little bird is a gift from God, a tiny flighted visit from the Creator of the Universe.
Thank you, Chain, for sharing the memory of Old Harry and the friends the Lord gave him.. in harmony. Did you and Harry ever have the opportunity to share about the Lord? I hope so.
As ABBA GOD knows of every little sparrow that falls, HE ALSO KNOWS of every lonely, rejected, disappointed, shy, heartbroken, struggling, fearful, insecure (etc) human being, made in HIS image, who needs HIM. They are never overlooked or forgotten.
Bro Chaim thk U for this very touching word,that this materialistic generation need to hear to sencitize us toour true nature.Abba blesses U a manifold way in Yeshua “s name. SHALOM
This really touched my heart; I have a “Harry” in my life, and his name is Frank. He feeds the birds, squirrels, and even the opposums who live in his compost pile. He was a Navy diver in WWII who dismantled bombs. He also was assigned cleanup of a ship off Bikini Island that they used an atomic bomb on, and he was well within the exposure boundary when they did their experimental bombings in preparation for the Hiroshima and Nagasaki Bombings. He has had problem with cancers and precancers on his skin for the rest of his life. In July, Frank turned 94. He has such a positive outlook on things, (although he fears the direction this country and the world is now heading. ) He used to say his big goal was to be a centennarian, but when I saw him last April, he told me he now wants to live to be in his 130’s. Like long-livers in Okanawa Japan, where he was one of the first to hit the beach in the bow of a small boat when the US invaded Japan near the end if the war. Thanks so much for sharing! -Lisa
Thankyou for a beautiful story.
I feed the local birds every day,
actually twice a day, so they get
some breakfast and dinner.
I do talk to them also, my husband
the other day, called me Dr Doolittle!
I am reminded when I feed them,
how God takes care of them and if so then
he will continue to take care of us.
Yom tov Dear Teacher ,
Thanks for that beautiful story .
I have learned that veterans which fought in wars often times have difficulty forming close relationships with people . This is mostly true of those that saw their buddies killed before their eyes . One told me that he had trouble allowing his wife to have a close relationship with him even though he loved her very much because he had lost so many that he cared about .
Birds have taught me much in life . When my son was little ; he came in with tears streaming down his face . He held a small dead bird in his hands . He said the neighbor kid had shot it with a b.b. gun . I took that little bird in in my hands and began to plan a ” birdie funeral ” . It was one of those small brown colored birds , but as it lay on it’s back I could see how beautiful it really was . At the uppermost part of it’s chest there were pale pink and green feathers and then a cascade of layer upon layer of pure white ones . They looked so soft that just had to touch them so I ran a finger down over them just to feel how soft they were…….well I guess that was a form of bird CPR because the little guy came back to life and we managed to guide him outside and on his way.
May God help us to get close to people so we can see their true beauty
Beautiful story. The power of touch is very healing
Poignant & sad story. God in His goodness Blessed him with His animals. He was not entirely alone.
I hope all are infused with Gods favor to touch those that especially need to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Amen
Thank you for the story of Old Harry and a much better definition of TOV. It makes much more sense that God’s creation would be in harmony with Him; especially initially.
My dad would have been 101 this year. He died at 93. He never said anything about the war while I was growing up. He said he was in the navy. Since he couldn’t swim, heard a guy sack of cigarettes to swim the lap and call his name out! He talked more about it when he got in his eighties. They ended up taking him off the PT boat, so he wouldn’t fall and drown! He worked ordering things for the mess hall on the base.
Maybe he didn’t think that it was something to be proud of?