We don't show a Fool half the Work

There’s a Yiddish expression my Rabbi recently shared during a Chassidus class:

A fool we don’t show half the work (A Nar Vist Men Kain Halbeh Arbit) - א נער ווייסט מאן ניט קיין האלבע ארבייט

Why? Because he’ll ask too many questions on what he doesn’t yet understand, and possibly even walk away from something truly beautiful in the making, simply because it doesn’t look finished.

This phrase hit me especially deep when I considered how often in life I stand before things that feel incomplete. Sometimes leading me to have feelings of frustration. A situation is unfolding, shidduchim (dating) is shifting, a dream seems dismantled… and I don’t see the whole picture. Then I realize that’s just it: I can’t see the whole picture. And in those moments, what I need most is not more explanation, but more trust.

Take, for example, the pieces of a watch spread out on a table. To the untrained eye, it looks like a mess — gears, springs, and fragments that don’t seem to belong to one another. Someone might scoff, “this is a watch? I don’t see it.” But the watchmaker knows better. He sees the finished product already in his mind. He knows how the pieces fit. The fool demands to see it all now, but the wise person knows to wait until the last screw is in place.

As our sages teach in Berakhot 60b in the name of Rabbi Akiva, "כל מה דעביד רחמנא לטב עביד" — All that the Merciful One does, He does for good. In fact, this teaching was later codified in Halacha (Shulchan Aruch, Orach Chayim 231:5). It’s not always visible in the moment. Sometimes it feels like our lives are scattered watch parts. But Hashem is the Master Craftsman. He knows exactly how each piece contributes to the final harmony, even when we’re still staring at the table in confusion.

The pain of the process can be real. But so too is the joy that comes after. It’s the kind of joy that only comes when we’ve stuck with something long enough to see its completion. And that joy is often far greater than the pain that preceded it. Because in the end, we don’t just get to see the watch… we get to wear it, live with it, and appreciate every detail of its design.

So next time I’m tempted to judge something — or someone — mid-process, I hope to remember: don’t be the fool. Trust the timing, trust the Watchmaker, and trust that the beauty is still unfolding. I hope you’ll join me in this too.

Let the work finish. It’s worth the wait.