He knew that I appreciated his devotion to collecting donations at chasunos on behalf of the poor in Israel and America, so he leaned over and asked if I had a few minutes to hear some stories.

Few people busy themselves with collecting for the poor. Rabbi Friedman, a former menahel at a major yeshiva and then a rebbi there, goes about his mitzva without self-consciousness, and, as you will soon see, with the respect of all who know him.

"Last night I went to a hall to collect. That hall is not a fancy one. People making their simchos there are getting bargain prices. I was sitting down, and people came to me to give money. That is the way I handle things these days, as people mostly know who I am and what I have come for.

"Anyway, someone gave me a check. I wouldn’t open it in front of him so I did not see it till I got home. That "check" was for $1,000. Imagine someone giving $1,000, and with no fanfare! But it was not really a check. It was a bank money order with no name on it. Do you understand what I am saying? This man wanted to give anonymously. When I got home, I didn’t remember who he was anymore. It had just seemed like a normal check. Imagine! He had gone to his bank and bought a money order, leaving the spot for the recipient's name blank; then he just passed it to me nonchalantly. All to remain anonymous. Mi k’amcho yisroel ("Who is like you, Israel..!").

"You want another one? Okay-I travelled a good distance to be at a chasunah in Williamsburg. But when I got there, the caterer informed me that I could not collect, as the host had said that he did not want any collectors. Someone spotted me and told the host to make an exception for me, so I stayed. As usual, I just sat, and people came to me with cash and checks.

"Anyway, I was sitting for a while when the head waiter, a non-Jewish man, came up to me and said, ‘You got permission to collect, so why don’t you go around to the tables?’

"I told him that, after 40 years, I had a reputation, and people now come to me and give. Do you know what he did, this non-Jew? He reached into his pocket, took out a dollar bill and said to me, ‘I have never given anyone anything my whole life, but I want a part in what you are doing,’ and he handed me a dollar.

"I’ll tell you just one more story because you have to get back to your family. This one is truly a very special one. It did not happen to me, but I heard it from a man I know to whom it actually did happen.

"This man, Zalman, is a well-known fundraiser who works for a prominent organization. Zalman was approached by a man who said, ‘I just tried a business deal where I had the opportunity to make $50,000, but I did not succeed. I know that Chazal say, ‘k’shem shemevorchim al hatov, kach mevarchim al harah’ (Just as one blesses for the good, so one must bless Him when something occurs that seems not to be good.) If I had gotten the $50,000 I would have given you $5,000, so here is the $5,000.’

"Zalman’s eyes nearly popped out. Usually, when someone does poorly in business, the last thing he will do is give money. He would push you off for a few weeks. But this man gave--and look how much!

"As Zalman was turning to leave, the man called out to him, ‘Zalman, there is a one percent chance that I will still get the money. If so, the other $45,000 is yours too.’

"About three months later, Zalman got a call from this man: ‘Zalman, can you come over right now? Remember that deal for $50,000? Well, I got it. So, come; I have a check for you for $45,000."