A man came into a bookstore on the Lower East Side. She wanted to buy a siddur for his grandson. The shopkeeper brought him siddur after siddur but the man said, “No, that is not it. That's not what I want.” All the while, his eyes were searching the shelves. Finally he pointed to a siddur and said, “That’s the one I want.”
The storekeeper took it down, a big fat siddur with perushim (commentaries) and halachot. The storekeeper was truly impressed. He said to his customer, “Your grandson must be going to a Yeshivah.” The customer eyed him coldly and said, “No sir. he is only two years old.” The storekeeper, shocked and surprised said, “Then excuse me, why are you buying him in Otzar ha-tefillot? Why don’t you buy him one of these?” And he pointed to a little siddur used in the first year of school.”
The customer explained, “You see at the age of two what does a child do when you give him a book? He tears up pages, page after page. If I were to start him with us in little siddur, and abridged one, by the time he tor out the pages there would be nothing left but the cover. With this one you can tear and tear but there were always be some pages left.”
May we only add during our days and never tear out.
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