They were two young people who had grown in Yiddishkeit while at University and the fact that when they were introduced they wanted to marry, surprised none of us who knew them well. The girl’s mother however, was appalled. The thought of her daughter compounding the crime of becoming Frum by marrying someone who suffered from the same complaint was more than she could stand. She made her opposition very clear. At the same time the Choson asked me if I would speak at the wedding and I readily agreed.

Months later on the day before the Chasunah and I told my wife that we couldn’t go. She asked why and I explained that I was simply so busy that taking a day off to travel down to London simply was not "Bo B’Cheshban." My wife pointed out that I had accepted an invitation to speak but I felt that as the invitation was made so long ago and had not been confirmed, the Choson must have forgotten about it. She wisely insisted that I enquired and when I phoned the Choson said that I was indeed expected to speak.

The next day we boarded the train to spend a rare, very rare, day on our own. The weather was beautiful and the train comfortable and I looked at my wife who sat opposite ready to enjoy a pleasant journey, free from pressure. I however did not feel pressure free. I had still to prepare my Drosha. I had the structure already worked out. I had a beautiful Dvar Torah. I did not however, have the most important ingredient, I did not have a story!

A Young Rov once left the Chofetz Chaim in Radin to take up a position overseas. As they parted the Chofetz Chaim took his hand and said to him "Allemol mit a Maase" "Always with a story." No matter what people’s age or intellectual level, everyone loves a story.

I asked my wife if I could have a few minutes to try and find the right tale, to complement what I wanted to say at the wedding. The few minutes became the entire two and a half hours of the journey and we arrived in London with me no further forward. I still did not have a story.

When we got to the Shul we found a very upsetting sight. The girl’s mother had done more than make her opposition "clear", she had refused to attend her daughter’s wedding. She had also managed to make sure that not one member of the girl’s family had come to the most special day in her daughter’s life.

After the Chupah we went into the dinner. As I sat down I looked at the Bencher which had the "programme" of the evening printed inside. As I read I saw that I was the only person who would be speaking! I remembered my idea of not bothering to attend and blessed my wife’s advice. Then my heart sunk, as once again the problem of a Drosha without a story, became more and more urgent. I racked my brains as the moment for me to stand up drew near and still nothing came.

One of the Guests came over to me and whispered in my ear "You can see what’s happened. Everyone knows about the situation. When you speak in a few minutes, Make it all right!"

I addressed a desperate Tefilla to the Ribono Shel Olom and after a few moments a forgotten story which had escaped me all day popped into my head and it fitted the Drosha perfectly.

The Chairman called my name and I walked behind the top table where sat the young couple and one set of proud parents. The Drosha fulfilled that guest’s request, it made things "All right". The entire top table sat with tears in their eyes but they were tears of happiness and pride. I finished with a heartfelt "Mazal Tov!" and started to walk back to my table. Quite a few of the other guests had also been moved by what I had said and they too were in tears. I think I must have been feeling quite pleased with myself.

I passed in front of the top table and the Choson leapt to his feet and stretched out his hand. I walked towards him and he pulled me to him and enveloped me in a hug. He let go and I stood back turned round and started once more towards my seat. As I took my first step I felt my leg brush against something. Two further steps and I heard a funny "Thump" noise.

In front of the top table, which was a long rectangle, there stood a smaller square table. Now this smaller table had been there for a purpose. On this table had stood (you will notice that I am now using the past tense) a cake, to be precise the wedding cake, in three tiers. As I looked round I saw a ruin, a wreck of white icing, lying on the floor. The guests who a few moments before had been thinking how well I had spoken now gave a collective gasp, which was followed by gales of laughter. I returned to my table and someone asked in complete sincerity if I had ever done anything quite as stupid as that before. I gazed aroung desperatley for an Emergency Exit. I thought of how proud I had felt seconds before, after I had finished speaking and how the Borei Olom had reminded me that Gaivo is a very bad Mido. After all, who gave me of the story in the first place!

Several months later the Choson phoned to explain that after his Yeshiva’s Zman was finished they planned to come and stay with us. If I could get hold of a video machine they would bring the video of the wedding. They could not understand my lack of enthusiasm for reliving their big day.

A few years later I was the guest speaker at a Shabbaton at a hotel in Bournemouth. Apart from the hundred or so young people who had invited me to speak, the Hotel had other guests. One of these was the Head of the famous Gateshead Seminary Rabbi Mordechai Miller Shlita. I am a Talmid of Rabbi Miller’s as he also gave shiur to Bochurim. At breakfast I was very honoured to be invited to join him. After a while another guest joined us. He came from my hometown of Glasgow and somehow he brought the conversation round to a quote from a famous Scottish Poet called Robert Burns. "Would some power the gift to give us; to see ourselves as others see us." Both Rabbi Miller and I considered this idea and we both concluded that to see ourselves as others see us would be a terrible gift indeed.

My reasoning was that I would not like to know what people really thought of me, I suspected it might not be as complementary as otherwise I could pretend that it was (memories of the wedding cake were fresh in my mind). Rabbi Miller’s reason was different. "When I walk into a room people stand up" he said, "I know how inappropriate that really is. If I saw myself the way they see me, I too would wrongly believe I was worthy of being stood up for."

Knowing what we are really like is one of the central ambitions of Mussar. If we don’t know what we are like then we won’t know what to be M’Taken.

In the famous Novardok Yeshivos when the Alter of Novardok, Reb Yosef Yoizel Horowitz zt"l was alive the Bochurim used to gather in groups to try and identify their shortcomings. Each would volunteer to have the others tell them where they thought his weakness lay. Pieces of paper were written on and passed to the Bochur. If he had a problem with Gaivo he would read the first note and find the word, "Gaivo". He probably dismissed this as surely wrong. The second note also read, "Gaivo". Another mis-diagnosis. When however all the notes revealed the same single word he would have to concede that he may indeed suffer from that particular Mido. As someone once said, "If the whole world thinks one thing and you think the opposite. You have to at least be willing to consider the possibility that maybe you’re wrong."

Once the Bochur had accepted that this was his problem his Chaverim would suggest a remedy. He might be told to go to the bakery on Erev Shabbos and ask for a pound of nails. He would have to queue as all the ladies were anxiously waiting to buy their Challohs and get home to make Shabbos. Eventually he reached the counter with impatient customers standing behind. Then he had to make his ridiculous request for a "Pound of nails." It would be hard to see himself as being as Choshuv as he previously had when people are shouting at him for wasting their time.

Rabbi Dessler zt"l discusses in several Shiurim the difficulty in seeing the truth if you suffer from Negios, Bias. The greatest bias anyone experiences, is about the self. Yitzchok Avinu realised that about himself and so relied on Eliezer’s judgement in choosing him a wife. And Rabbi Dessler writes, "For in matters where it is impossible for a person to judge themselves clearly, they must ask the opinion of others. If they fail to ask others, they will definitely make mistakes."

It is precisely for this reason that the Mishna in Avos supplies the most important advice a Jew can take, "Aseh L’Cho Rav" Get yourself a Rabbi.

One of my teachers told me how his Father in law, the famous Rabbi Moshe Schneider zt’l, used to take aside a Bochur in his Yeshiva in London to point out a character flaw.

He would start by saying "Imagine you go into a garage and the mechanic emerges from underneath a car. As he walks towards you a drop of oil falls onto his overalls. Would you point it out to him? Of course not, the entire overall is covered in oil stains. One more makes no difference. But if someone walks into a room wearing a brand new suit and there is a tiny white mark you will point it out. It stands out and spoils an otherwise perfect appearance." With that introduction he would then tell the Bochur that he has seen something in him which is "spoiling him". The Bochur was assured that apart form this flaw he was basically sound and was willing to accept the Rebbe’s advice.

It is almost impossible for us to see our flaws and as I admitted about myself in that breakfast conversation, we are often afraid to see them. Yet it is impossible to succeed as a Jew unless we know where our shortcomings lie. The radical Mussar remedies from Novardok may be too difficult for us. To require a Wedding Cake to collapse in public, to warn us against Gaivo may be too embarrassing for us. There is an easier approach, Aseh L’choh Rav and let the Rav help us see our self and see how to make that self, better.