LEV629 Here is another story. Rob is a Mussar student who found himself caught in one of the most primitive of situations, one that is so ancient the Torah actually warns us against it directly. "Do not bear a grudge," we are told [this verse]. But how could he not? Eighteen years ago, he and his wife were blessed with the birth of their first child, a son. They planned the circumcision ceremony for the eighth day, as Jewish law dictates, and they happily invited all their friends and family to the celebration. As it happens, Rob's father did not get along with Rob's wife's parents and so, when he called his father to invite him to the ceremony, Rob added, "And, Dad, please make an effort to be civil to Sarah's parents." Well, Rob's father took such offense at this comment that he did not attend the circumcision of his own grandson. Not only that, he stopped speaking to his son, who was only too happy to reciprocate the favor. As a result, father and son did not speak for eighteen years. In that time, Rob's father never met his own grandson. One of the soul-traits Rob worked on in his Mussar practice was forgiveness, which, one might have expected, would bring up the deep grudge he was bearing and provide an opening for healing. But that actually wasn't what happened. When he thought of forgiving, the grievance seemed, on a deep inner level, too unjust. Wasn't his father responsible, after all? While forgiveness didn't actually create illumination for Rob, when the soul-trait of generosity came into focus, a light went on. Confronted by the Mussar understanding of generosity, which entails stretching yourself to give beyond the boundaries of the comfortable or usual, a new course opened up before him. Rob wrote a letter to his father as an act of conscious generosity. And his father wrote back. Rob and his wife had been married for twenty-five years by this time and decided to celebrate with a party. Rob invited his father, who lived in a distant state. His father came and met his grandson for the first time. Mussar had opened the way to healing, inwardly and in a relationship. It had provided Rob with the tools he needed to free himself from the dictates of his primitive, grudge-bearing nature and to entrust the governance of his life to his higher self, the soul, which seeks both sh'lemut (wholeness) and shalom (peace). This was the fruit of his Mussar practice. "Seek for it like silver and search for it like hidden treasure." - Proverbs/Mishlei 2:4