The Sacredness of a Commission
A close friend and Platform Partner expressed frustration with his employer.
"They’ve changed my commission again. They owe me a tremendous amount and are holding it back, and of course—there’s no one to talk to! I’m sick of being treated like this. I don’t need it in my life. I think I’m done."
His words struck a chord. It reminded me of a story that went viral in a WhatsApp group of Aussie expats from my hometown.
A Promise in the Ashes
Sydney, 1968.
Samuel, the president of the local synagogue, was a Holocaust survivor. He and his wife, Rachel, had miraculously survived the Nazi death camps, though their entire families perished. They lost two children—one to starvation in the Lodz ghetto, and the other in a massacre they were forced to witness.
Few married couples survived together. When Samuel and Rachel found each other after the war, they became the first in their Displaced Persons (DP) camp to have a child. Eventually, they made their way to Sydney, Australia, where they rebuilt their lives.
The post-war Jewish community in Sydney was made up of refugees who had lost everything. Together, they built synagogues, schools, and businesses from scratch. Samuel, once a student at the esteemed Yeshivas Chachmei Lublin, became the synagogue president and a leader in the fledgling community.
Years later, as the community grew, the aging communal rabbi could no longer fulfill his duties. They needed a young, dynamic leader. Samuel was tasked with leading the search.
It was then that he received a letter from the Lubavitcher Rebbe in New York. The Rebbe had heard about their search and suggested a young rabbinic couple from the U.S. He added something unusual:
"If you bring them in, I promise you a commission."
Samuel wasn’t sure what the Rebbe meant, but he accepted the Rebbe’s candidate.
A Meeting at 2 AM
Seven years later, in 1975, Samuel and Rachel faced a new heartbreak. Their daughter was engaged to a young man from New York. Their two older sons already lived far away—one in Melbourne, the other in New York. Now, their youngest was leaving too.
At the same time, Samuel’s business had fallen on hard times. The combination of financial strain and emotional turmoil had left him despondent.
While in New York for the wedding, Samuel’s son and daughter-in-law arranged a yechidus—a private meeting—with the Lubavitcher Rebbe. They invited Samuel, but in his despair, he declined.
When they were finally granted an appointment, it was at 2:00 AM. At the last moment, Samuel changed his mind and joined them.
"Your Commission Will Be Paid"
The Rebbe, at 73 years old, stood to greet Samuel. His piercing blue eyes were filled with kindness.
"Reb Shmuel," the Rebbe said, "a Chossid must always be joyful."
Samuel began to cry.
"I need my children," he said. Then, with a faint smile, he added, "And I am here for the commission you promised me."
The Rebbe looked at him intently and said:
"Your commission will be paid in the form of many joyous celebrations in your family."
Then, turning toward Samuel’s daughter-in-law, he continued:
"And very soon, you will celebrate a bris."
At that moment, Samuel’s daughter turned to her husband in shock.
"Well," she said, "I guess we now know we’re having a boy!"
Only a few days earlier, she had privately learned that she was pregnant—but no one else knew.
That Child Was Me.
I had heard this story many times growing up. But it wasn’t until it went viral and started getting forwarded to me that I truly grasped the depth of the Rebbe’s words.
The Sacredness of a Commission
A commission is more than a paycheck. It is a sacred pledge, a commitment made in good faith. Once agreed upon, it should never be altered without mutual consent, let alone withheld.
Yet, there are companies run by individuals who act callously—manipulating the livelihoods of their salespeople, treating commissions as a tool of control rather than a rightful reward.
A commission is not just about money. It is the conduit through which blessings are realized.
To My Friend Who Feels Done
If you feel done, then be done.
The Rebbe’s lesson is clear: out of the ashes of destruction, unbridled joy can emerge. Don’t wait around with your hand outstretched for a corporation that trivializes your worth.
Your blessings, your commission, are waiting elsewhere.
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