The beginning of Parashat Ha'azinu speaks about the kindnesses that Hashem did for Am Yisrael after they left Mitzrayim. He surrounded them with His Clouds of Glory in the desert. He then brought them into Eretz Yisrael and gave them the most delicious fruits to eat. Hashem took care of them physically in every way. But then the pasuk rebukes the people for not showing the proper gratitude. Instead of becoming more devoted to Hashem, they became worse. The best way to serve Hashem is with feelings of gratitude. We must feel gratitude even for the smallest blessings—how much more so for the countless blessings that Hashem gives us every single day. Even if a person received only a small gift, he is obligated to feel hakarat hatov. Rabbi Menashe Reizman told a story that was related by Rabbi Naftali Halberstam, which happened to him personally. In 1947, while he was learning in a yeshiva in Israel, there was a draft for the army. One day a military jeep pulled up and soldiers demanded their ID cards. Rabbi Naftali and two of his friends did not have any documents of exemption and were arrested. Eventually, they were brought to trial. When the names of the boys were called out before the judge, they announced, "Naftali Halberstam." The judge trembled, turned angrily toward the police, and shouted, "You brought this lunatic here? Send him and his friends away immediately!" Just like that, the boys received their release papers. Years later, Rabbi Naftali was walking down the street and suddenly recognized that judge. He reminded him of what he had done years before and asked his name so he could show proper hakarat hatov. The judge said, "You think you know about gratitude? I'll tell you what gratitude is." He then recalled a story about his father, whom we'll call Yehuda. Yehuda had moved to Israel but was not fond of the charedim. One day a great rebbe came to town and everyone went to get a blessing. Yehuda had no interest, but his friends persuaded him to come along. When it was his turn, the gabbai told him to write down a request and leave a small donation. Yehuda put down two small coins and said he had no requests. The rebbe blessed him, and he left. That year, the rebbe passed away. A few months later, Yehuda saw the rebbe in a dream. The rebbe said, "You showed me kindness by giving me two coins. I have come back to repay you by telling you that both your Rashi and Rabbeinu Tam tefillin are pasul." At first, Yehuda dismissed the dream, but his friends convinced him it couldn't hurt to check. He did, and found that indeed both pairs of tefillin were completely pasul. Yehuda later said, "Years have passed, but that dream saved me from being someone who never wore kosher tefillin." The judge concluded, "That was my father's story. When I heard your name in court, 'Halberstam,' I immediately remembered that rebbe, Rabbi Halberstam of Shinova. I trembled, and I released you at once, pretending you were a lunatic. It was part of the chain of gratitude from the rebbe, who I knew would want you released." If Hashem allowed a rabbi to appear in a dream to repay gratitude for two small coins, imagine how much hakarat hatov we owe Hashem for everything He gives us. Hashem showers us with infinite kindness, and thoughtful people recognize it. Rabbi Avigdor Miller was a master of hakarat hatov. He opened our eyes to see the endless chasadim that Hashem does for us. One of his famous examples was the peel of an apple. Once the peel is removed, the apple rots quickly. Hashem created the peel to keep the apple fresh longer than any man-made container. The apple is full of liquid, and to keep the juices from seeping out, Hashem designed the peel with a slight layer of oil. The peel also prevents rainwater from soaking into the fruit while it is still on the tree. The peel acts as a sign of readiness: its colors shift—red, green, yellow—to signal when the fruit is sweet and edible. Unlike people, whose outward garments often conceal what lies within, the peel truthfully reveals the fruit's state. Hashem even made the peel attractive and fragrant to make the apple more appealing. How does all that sweetness enter the fruit? Through the thin brown stem at the top. From mud and rain below and sunshine absorbed by the leaves, everything passes through that tiny channel into the fruit. No human could design such a delicate conduit. Yet Hashem uses it to bring forth nourishment and delight. Inside, the juice is distributed evenly, refreshing without spilling. The apple can be sliced neatly without mess. When one finishes eating, there is a "coupon" inside for countless more apples—the seeds. It's like a chocolate bar that comes with a voucher for another bar and another, endlessly. Each apple contains the potential for thousands more. Hashem arranged that the flesh around the seeds be tough and inedible, so they would be preserved. Each seed lies in its own perfectly designed chamber, ready to grow into a new tree. This is just part of the kindness contained in one apple. Hashem designed the entire world for our benefit. It is incumbent upon us to recognize this, and to serve Him happily with gratitude, showing that we are capable of being the people He created us to be. Shabbat Shalom.