Two stories. One with a great tzaddik and gaon, the other a non-Jew, one of the chassidei umos ha’olam, righteous gentiles. The stories are similar, almost identical, from which we can derive singular lessons for the end of the year. But the differences can change our Selichos as well.

Rav Yeruchom Levovitz, mashgiach of the Mir in Lithuania, was leaving the yeshiva to deliver chizuk and mussar to a neighboring community. It was a cold day, he was wearing gloves, and he waved to his beloved talmidim who had escorted him to the train. The train was pulling out. As the mashgiach waved, the glove dropped to the ground. Instantly, the man of mussar threw the other out the window as well. As Rav Yeruchom later explained, the glove could not be retrieved, but what could someone do with the one glove he would find? His long life of self-improvement and constantly thinking of others kicked in and the glove was ejected as an act of spontaneous chesed.

Sempo Sugihara, the now-famous Japanese Consul in Lithuania, was also leaving Kovna (Kaunos) because he had been fired for providing Jews with visas that would save their lives. The Japanese were bound to the Nazis, so Sugihara was violating the law and the terms of his employment. But he was a man of morals and integrity. Even as the train was pulling out, he threw newly signed documents to the eagerly awaiting arms of those sentenced to death by evil. Two people of different nations, even different religions, but both were doing the right thing, using every second to help another.

But perhaps the similarities end there. Sugihara had been impressed with the culture, teachings and, yes, religion of Judaism, and so felt compelled to risk employment and possibly his life to help when he would receive nothing in return. I had the zechus to say a few words of hesped at the street in Kovna that now bears his name. However, Rav Yeruchom had worked on himself, taught others and incorporated every word into his own being, so that even when there was no time to think or make decisions, he threw the glove out the window because chesed won over logic and self.

Dovid Hamelech said, “I considered my ways and returned my feet to your testimonies” (Tehillim 119:59). Chazal (Vayikra Rabbah 35:1) explain this to mean that even when Dovid Hamelech thought that he was going to an urgent meeting of his advisors and generals, his legs took him to the bais medrash instead. The Sefas Emes (on this posuk) adds that it is our obligation in life to try our very best to stay “on the derech” and follow the Shulchan Aruch and our rabbeim. Then, even if we don’t have time to think, Hashem will help us do the right thing. This will not be instinct, of which even the animal world is capable. It is obtaining the siyata diShmaya — help from Heaven — that comes to those who try their humanly best to avoid trouble and do what is best. That is what Dovid Hamelech did. That is what Rav Yeruchom did. Sempo Sugihara is to be praised and thanked, but that was not feet thinking, but the mind and heart of a wonderful person. Our goal as Yidden is to imbue every limb, organ and fiber of our being with the Divine instructions for how to live.

During the Aseres Yemei Teshuvah, we try our best to be at our best. But very often, we are doing things, such as avoiding pas akum, bread baked by a gentile, even with a good hechsher, because we are trying to elevate ourselves during this season. The question is: To what end? We know that we are doing something only temporarily. Perhaps, as someone pointed out, he may even have bought pas akum to break the Yom Kippur fast. Is this worth anything? The answer is a resounding yes, because even a moment of improvement and self-denial brings us to a higher level in a way of which we are not even aware. This is one of the distinctions between the Rav Yeruchom and the Sugihara trains. Getting up earlier every day of Selichos, opening the aron kodesh countless times, and reciting the Thirteen Middos of Rachamim many times a day changes us internally, spiritually and even physically. Suddenly, we will throw a glove out the window because our DNA has been changed. Our car will drive us to daven or to a shiur even if it isn’t a Tesla.

We learned from Rav Itzele Peterberger last week. Let’s turn to him again for a moment. The Gemara (Rosh Hashanah 16a and 18a) states that on this day, all of Klal Yisroel are counted just like sheep in the corral for maaser. This means that the rancher makes a small hole in the door through which only one animal can proceed at a time. Every tenth one is identified by a red mark to indicate that he is the one designated for maaser. Rav Itzele asks: How did each one get chosen as maaser? He must have dallied at the grass and licked another blade of grass. He just wanted to enjoy a bit more pleasure. Had he been able to forgo that one bite, he would have been spared as becoming number one through nine. But because he lingered, attached to his craving, he will end up dying. Had he marched forward, he would have been spared.

That lamb is every one of us. Sometimes, for a moment of enjoyment, we give it all away. But on the positive side, when we strengthen ourselves and resist temptation, we come through with flying colors.

The Maharsha teaches us a similar lesson, but even more dramatically. The Gemara (Sukkah 52a) describes what will happen in the World to Come. Hashem will slaughter the yeitzer hora in front of both tzaddikim (the righteous) and reshaim (the wicked). To the tzaddikim, he will appear like a gigantic mountain. To the reshaim, he will appear like a thin hair. Yet, both groups will cry. The tzaddikim will cry, “How were we able to conquer such a mighty mountain?” The reshaim will cry, “Why couldn’t we conquer such a tiny hair?”

Everyone asks: How can it be that two people see the same evil inclination so differently?

The Maharsha explains brilliantly: The wicked person always sees sin as a tiny hair. He says to himself, “Give me a few moments to eat what I want. It won’t last. I will soon stop.” When this same person looks at a potential mitzvah to be done, it appears to him like a mountain. “I can do something for a minute, but this climb requires days and weeks. I can’t do it.”

Therefore, when the yeitzer hora is no longer, the sinner strikes himself. “How could I miss doing a mitzvah even for one moment? It would have been so easy.” On the other hand, the tzaddik looks at every mitzvah like a little hair. “It doesn’t bother me to take a moment out of my day.” When a sin comes his way, he realizes that it could lead to a mountain of trouble and he runs away. “I don’t want this,” he decides, and he is freed from evil and guilt. All we need to do is to take on the perspective of the tzaddik and we will become one. All we need to do is run rapidly when faced with straws and hairs that seem too easy to conquer.

Finally, I heard an amazing metaphor that can help us through the Yomim Noraim along the lines we have learned today. The Gemara (Shabbos 129a) says that “a person should sell everything he owns, even the walls of his house, in order to buy shoes for his feet.” What is so important about shoes?

One answer is that shoes lift us a drop off the ground. They elevate us just a bit, and that can be enough to make us see a new world of possibilities and vistas. All we need is to rise up and look around.

That may be what Shlomo Hamelech (Koheles 2:14) means when he says, “The wise man has eyes in his head.” The meforshim ask: Doesn’t everyone have eyes in their head? Where else would they be, in the legs or arms?

The baalei mussar explain that a person who is wise lifts himself up and looks at the larger picture. The example is that the king listens to the lookout soldier who has the best eyesight. The one who can see for miles knows more than the one who only sees a few yards. During the Yomim Noraim, every step we take on the ladder of teshuvah and spirituality transports us to a new perspective, from which we can make the right decisions and obtain for ourselves a good year ahead.

Sempo Sugihara was great, but let’s take Rav Yeruchom’s train to the Yomim Noraim. We may have to throw out a glove or two, but helping people will do wonders for ourselves as well.

May we all take those precious steps, even tiny ones, leading to a kesivah vachasimah tovah.