More Than Any Holy Name
People whispered that Rav Chaim's endless writing must come from divine Names, until his son set the record straight.
It is told that the output of Rav Chaim Palagi astonished those who watched him. Seforim on halacha, on Midrash, on Tanach and on mussar kept flowing from his desk, each one ready for print. His first had been completed when he was only sixteen, and the last was finished the day before his passing.
For every sefer he printed, Rav Chaim made a seudas mitzvah. Then he gave copies away as gifts to talmidei chachamim, and he never took a coin for them. People who saw how much he wrote, and how the books kept appearing, began to wonder aloud. Surely no ordinary man could write so much. Perhaps, they said, the Rav used holy Names, the kind of kabbalistic power that guides a pen.
The talk reached his household, and his son Avrohom answered it. He knew his father better than anyone, and he spoke plainly. Whatever Names his father might have known, he said, they were nothing next to the awe and fear of Heaven that filled him, and nothing next to his wisdom. Those, and not any secret formula, were what moved his pen.
The Sephardic world has long told the story to explain Rav Chaim's greatness. The wonder, it says, was never in a Name. It was in a man who guarded every spare moment and lived in the presence of Hashem.
Source: Oros Mimizrach (collection of stories of the sages of the East)
When someone else's achievement looks almost magical, it is tempting to look for a shortcut behind it. Today, notice one thing you admire in another person and ask what steady, unseen habit lies behind it, whether it is a fixed hour of learning, a daily kindness or a regular prayer. Then pick one small habit of your own and give it ten honest minutes this week. Real greatness is usually built from fear of Heaven, patience and small steady steps.