David Landman There is a story of a Chassidic Rav who lived a few hundred years ago in a small village in Eastern Europe. He was a brilliant Torah scholar, respected and revered by the small, yet vibrant Jewish community in this town. His students would turn to him whenever they had a question, a dispute, or simply needed advice. And the students trusted the Rav and would do whatever he asked of them without a moment's hesitation. One year, in the month of Elul, just before the onset of the Jewish high holidays, the Rav called in two of his students and told them they were to go travel to a distant village in a place far away from home, where there was no Jewish community. Here, instructed the Rav to the students, they were to remain until after the high holidays. The students, dumbfounded yet obedient, did as the Rav said. They quickly left and gathered all of the belongings they would need for Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. In addition to the requisite clothing and food necessary for survival, they packed a shofar, siddurim, wine for kiddush, and other necessary accoutrements for the high holidays. They quickly departed and as their journey progressed they questioned each other as to why the Rav sent them on such a journey during the holiest time of they year. They thought perhaps there would a great Jewish sage waiting there, or a Jewish community in need of help during the holidays. But when they arrived there was nothing. There were no people, no houses, and no roads. The students had no choice but to stay for the high holidays and so they put on their special garments, recited the special prayers, and blew the shofar. When the students returned after their journey they went to see their Rav and they said, "Rav, we are grateful to you for sending us on this journey, but unfortunately we were not able to complete our task as there were no Jews there to be helped, no people to hear the blowing of the shofar." A smile slowly came across the Rav's face and he responded, "my dear students, don't you see, that in fact you have completed the purpose for which I sent you? You see, every object in this world; every tree, every leaf, every corner of the Earth, has its own neshama, soul. Your mission was to release the neshama of this particular community and to increase its holiness in the world." We often end up in circumstances in which we find ourselves asking "how did I get here and what am I doing here?" This is a common question that students at Binghamton University ask. However, as we are taught from the above parable, the answer is so simple. There is a special neshama that exists in Binghamton, NY, and the thousands of Jewish students who have passed through Binghamton have all had an integral role in adding holiness to this very special place. From Friday night dinners at Chabad, to the JHP blind date parties, to the Jewish acapella group Kaskeset, every Jewish event and organization in Binghamton has in some way helped to de-shroud the G-dliness that is hidden not only in this community, but in this entire world. As we each move on with the next phase of our life, we should constantly strive to continue to bring holiness to everywhere we go and everything we do. Hopefully, we will all be graduating with our Jewish identity more solidified, and a more true sense of what we hope to accomplish with our lives. We should never lose sight of the true meaning and purpose of our existence here on Earth. Rabbi Aaron and Rivky Slonim are an example of two people who have not lost sight of the true meaning of why we exist in this world. It is with great thanks and appreciation to them, that I, as well as thousands of other Binghamton University students will also not lose sight of this. I would like to thank the Chabad House for everything they have done and they should continue to be blessed with the wonderful gift and ability of being able to reach out to so many Jewish souls. I wish the best of luck to the class of 2001 and you should all be blessed in wherever you choose to go from here.