A little boy wanted $100 so badly that he prayed for two weeks, but nothing happened. He decided to write a letter to the Lord requesting the $100. When the postal authorities received the letter addressed to "Lord, USA," they decided to send it to President Bush.

The President was so impressed, touched and amused that he instructed his secretary to send the little boy a $5 bill. Mr. Bush thought this would appear to be a lot of money to a little boy.

The little boy was delighted with the $5 and sat down to write a thank-you note to the Lord, which read:

"Dear Lord,

"Thank you very much for sending me the money. It's just a pity you had to send it through Washington, D.C. and, as usual, those morons deducted $95."

In a passage demonstrating a keen sensitivity to the subconscious of man, the Talmud describes the experience of the embryo while in the uterus (1):

"A lamp is lit above the child's head, by which it can see from one end of the world to the other end; there are no days during which a person experiences more bliss than those days in his mother's womb. They [G-d and the angels] teach the unborn child the entire Torah, but as soon as the child is to emerge into the air of the world, an angel comes and strikes it on its mouth, causing it to forget the entire Torah."

But what's the point? Is it not futile to teach an embryo the entire Torah if he is made to forget it shortly thereafter?

Several answers are given to this question. As we approach the two-day festival of Shavuous, commemorating the giving of the Torah 3,314 years ago, I wish to present one of the answers, culled from the writings of Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi (2).

It is extremely difficult to remain spiritually and emotionally inspired while living in this jungle-like world. G-d may give us life, but He does not always grant us the inspiration required for living a meaningful and elevated lifestyle. We need to constantly stimulate and motivate ourselves through our own efforts.

But how? Life is so stressful and often so depressing. Also, our physical and animalistic cravings and temptations are so powerful that they almost completely eclipse our sensitivity to spirituality.

This is the accomplishment of G-d infusing each unborn child with the entire Torah before he is born, though he later forgets it all. This nine-month implantation of G-dliness and holiness in the brain of the child before it has been open to any worldly stimulation, creates a condition in which the spiritual message of Torah forever remains the most familiar thing to the soul.

Affluence, power, good food, nice clothing and physical temptations may excite us. Debt, responsibility, laziness and numbness may bog us down. Pain and suffering may shatter us. Yet despite all of these sensations being a real part of our lives, the voice of our inner spirituality - the voice of Torah within us - has a deeper, though often inaudible, resonance within us.

It's like a melody that you once knew and have since forgotten. When it is sung to you again, you don't have to memorize it anew, because the song was always a part of you, stored in the memory of your brain.

The melody of spirituality and Torah has been on the lips of our souls since time immemorial. Although in the process of growing up we may have forgotten the tune, none of us have to learn it anew. We need only to pay heed to the silent vibrations stored within us since our days in the womb.

Like the child who thanked G-d for sending him $100, deep down in our hearts, the presence of G-d resonates more deeply than the power of Washington (3).