As some of you may know, I was in Israel last week for a few days. While the main reason for my visit was to be with my mother and siblings for the Yahrtzeit of my father, there was a promise I gave to a community member, which became the highlight of my visit.
It started just over two months ago, on Purim, when a young woman walked into our community Purim party with her sweet children. It was well into the celebration, after I've had my share of "L'chaim", as appropriate for this holiday... Sitting by a table we got into a conversation. When I mentioned that I would be visiting Israel in a short while, she asked for a favour. “I have a great aunt, who lives there; would you visit her in my behalf? I'm sure she'd be very happy to see you". I agreed.
To be quite honest, my agreement didn’t make sense, in fact I have no doubt that on any other day I would have never accepted to do that...I was going to be in Israel for less than three days, I'd never even think to visit on this trip my grandmother who lives in Israel nor many of my aunts and uncles because of the short time, why then would I visit the great aunt of a woman whom I have met a couple of times in my life?...
But after giving her my word - I had no choice, so before leaving for Israel I got the contact information of Mrs. Esther S. in Ramat-Gan.
On my second day in Israel, on Wednesday night, the eve of Lag B'omer, I went with my mother to celebrate the holiday with hundreds of thousands of Jews at the resting place of Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai in Meron. My flight back to Canada was on Thursday 1:10pm. I decided to leave early in the morning; hoping that I'd have time to stop by, at least for a short while at Mrs. S's home to give her regards from her niece and family.
As I was getting closer to the center of Israel the traffic became heavier, and it quickly became clear to me that exiting the highway into the city would be risking my flight. While standing in a traffic jam I dialed Esther's number. “It’s Rabbi Meir Kaplan from Victoria, BC. I want to give you warm regards from your family in Victoria and tell you that they are doing great. I was planning on visiting you today, but I need to apologize, due to the slow traffic, I won’t be able to make it this time”.
“I’m expecting you and I’m looking forward to seeing you” I hear the kind but firm voice on the other side of the phone, “where are you now?” I soon realized that I wasn’t being given a choice here...
“OK. I’ll try my best” I said. “I have your address, but I really don’t know how to get to you” I added while taking an exit back south in the direction to Ramat Gan. “Don’t worry, when you get to Ramat Gan just park your car, and take a taxi, I’ll pay for it when you get here”. I looked at the clock; it was 10:10am. My flight was 3 hours away and I was headed in the opposite direction of the airport, sure to get lost in the big city....
I took the exit to Ramat Gan and started looking for an available taxi. “My friend”, I called through the window, “can you show me the way to Tirtza Street? I’ll pay you when we get there”. “Follow me” the driver said, as he started driving through the small streets of the city. As we approached the next traffic light – a driver making an illegal u-turn hit the left front of my car.
“Don’t you see I’m making a u-turn?!” he shouted. After he cooled down, we quickly took pictures and exchanged information. Now, on top of all, I had an accident to deal with, but more importantly I lost 15 precious minutes of my time. After a quick debate with myself I decided that if I made it all the way here, I can’t quit now.
At 10:45am I was knocking at Mrs. S’s door. After a few minutes of silence an elderly woman walked out of the elevator, looking concerned. “I’ve been waiting for you outside, what happened?” “I’m sorry for the delay” I said, “I’m so happy to be here now, Esther. I feel bad, but I have only 10 minutes to be here, I have a flight in just over two hours from Ben-Gurion”...
Esther took me into her kitchen “I’m extremely excited and I don’t know where to begin... Let me start by telling you that while today I’m not a religious woman – it’s not who I really am. I suffered a lot, like the Jews of my generation, in addition I had my personal 'Tzoros', so I’ve walked away somewhat from my roots... Let me show you who I really am”, she said while picking out an old paper from a big pile of pictures and documents that she had prepared for our meeting.
“You see, here in the front row, this is me soon after the liberation of Bergen-Belsen. I grew up in a Chassidic family, I have been raised in a 'Beit Ya’akov' school”, she said in a shaky voice, while moving the paper closer to me. I looked at the pamphlet, in the picture there were Jewish girls walking in a parade holding a sign stating in Hebrew “Tziyon b’Mishpat Tipade v’Shaveha b’tzdaka” “Zion will be redeemed with Justice and its captives with righteousness”. Then I read the Yiddish headline: “Big Celebration of Lag B’omer in Bergen-Belzen Camp”...
“Do you know what date is today?” I asked. “Today is Lag B’omer, and this is your picture celebrating today’s holiday exactly 66 years ago!...”
Esther's face turned white and tears began streaming down her face. she hadn't realized the significance of this picture today. I took a deep breath and thought of the Divine providence that brought me to meet her that morning. I was overcome with emotion.
Fifteen minutes later I was on my way, but the image of young girls, who lost their families to the Natzis, walking with Jewish pride on Lag B’omer on the soil of a death camp, accompanied me my entire trip back to Canada. I have a story to tell her family when I get back home; I have a Lag B’omer lesson for all of us.
A hearty thanks to everyone who took part in the birthday Shabbaton of our daughter Rochel last Friday, both in body and in spirit, please enjoy the movie our children prepared in honour of the occasion which was presented at the beginning of the evening:
This coming Tuesday my family and I will be marking the 14th Yahrtzeit of my father OBM. I have written before about my admiration to him, his tragic passing and the legacy he has left us. Today I would like to share with you a little story with a great lesson, which guides me, especially ever since I have become a father.
It was when I went with my father and my siblings to the big bicycle store in Tzfat to fix our bike. My youngest brother, who was about three then, didn't stop asking questions about the store, the owner, the equipment, the costumers and everything else he saw around...
While my father was answering his questions patiently, we started to feel embarrassed and tried to get our brother to be quiet...
My father turned to me and said "not only should you never stop a young child from asking questions, you should make sure to always answer them. Never dismiss a question because the child is ‘too young to understand’ or ‘doesn’t need to know everything’. No matter what a child asks - you can always find an answer appropriate to their level".
Since I had my own children, this episode flashes in my mind often. It tells me to never ignore my children's questions, even in the busiest times, and to never tell them 'when you grow up you’ll understand', I can say “I don’t know”, but I will try to always find some kind of answer which will encourage them to continue to learn and grow.
I remind myself of the importance of every word we tell our children, because what children hear when they are young - will stay with them forever, just like the lesson my father taught me in the big bike store in the city of Tzfat.
I trust that by now, you have received our invitation to take part in the Friday-night candle lighting and dinner in honour of our daughter Rochel's third birthday. What you may be surprised to hear is that this event is a fulfillment of a promise I made to you, which is a marvellous story on its own.
On September 8th, 2008, we celebrated the upshernish (first haircut ceremony) of our son, Leibel, in a great celebration in front of the Chabad Centre in Victoria. This celebration was very special to me, as that year was 10 years since my father's passing, whom Leibel is named after. You may recall how Leibel said some torah verses out loud and the crowd recited after him.
Being that an upshernish marks the beginning of a child's Jewish education, I was asked by community members how we mark this occasion for a little girl. At the closing of the event, I mentioned that our Rebbe suggested for Jewish families to start the education of mitzvot for girls by candle lighting on Erev Shabbat, and many have turned this occasion into a community celebration of the inauguration of a girl’s education. "Our two older daughters’ birthdays are both during Pesach and it wasn't practical to have a communal event at that time of year..." I said. "But, though I can't give you a date to mark your calendar, G-d willing, for our next daughter’s third birthday, you'll be invited to a candle lighting ceremony in honour of the occasion…"
Nine months later, on the 7th of May, 2009, we embraced a new baby girl and named her Rochel. We thank the Almighty for His blessings and next Friday we will try to keep our promise...
As we were about to arrive home back from Shul last Shabbat, with the children and our guests, we realized that a young man and woman were gazing at us as we passed through. Then the young lady turned to her friend and said “just ask".
The man gathered his courage. "I was wondering why you are wearing that hat and long coat?"
"We are Jews" I explained. "Today is Shabbat and the last day of Passover, as Chassidic Jews - we have special garments which we wear in honour of the festivity. In fact I am a Rabbi here in Victoria, and my brother-in-law who is visiting, is a Rabbi in Philadelphia".
"Oh, I see, you are Rabbis. I thought you may be Jews, but I have Jewish friends, I've never seen them wearing anything out of the ordinary... so thank you for explaining..."
The woman looked at the man, winked at him, as if to say "go for it" and just as we were about to continue walking - he turned back to me and said "I also have some Jewish blood in me..."
"How is that?" I asked. "Oh, my great grandmother survived the holocaust, she was in a concentration camp. She immigrated to Canada in the middle of the war; married a German, and lived in Nanaimo, where my grandmother was born. Growing up, I knew I had some Jewish blood in me. In fact, in school they used to call me "Germish" laughing on my combined origin, they used to tell me some other nasty things, but I won't repeat them"...
"How is she your great grandmother?" I asked. "She is my mother's mother's mother" he answered. "Then you are 100% Jewish!" I said with excitement, explaining to Aaron that according to Jewish law if the mother is Jewish the child is fully Jewish, and "if your maternal grandmother had a Jewish mother that makes you as Jewish as can be".
"Your great grandmother may have been an only survivor from her family, yet if you will learn of your heritage - you may be saving a lineage of Jews of thousands of years that was almost extinguished", I added . Aaron looked attentive.
I hope to soon report to you of Aaron's reconnection; after all, this is the story of our generation - the miracle of the revival of Judaism, just seventy years after the idea of a flourishing Jewish life was unimaginable.
Last week I wrote about my tears on Erev Pesach in Uzhgorod, Ukraine, and the great lesson I learned that day, it was only 13 years later that this story came to a closure.
One morning last year I was invited to a friend's home, while sitting in their living room I was introduced to their friend visiting from the US. After a short conversation I learned that this man, who was known to be very successful with a promising future, was now in the midst of a great downturn in his personal life, he was humiliated in a terrible manner, so much so that he wasn't sure there was a way for him to get out of it.
I listened to the recent events in his life and since it was close to Pesach, I immediately thought of my experience in Ukraine, so I shared with him my story, and the lesson that “some times from a low point, when you are hopeless and loose your pride - this is when you become worthy of G-d's salvation...”
When I finished telling the story, he looked at me and asked: who did you say was your partner in making Pesach there? When I told him the full name - he was shocked. "Mendy is the Chabad Rabbi in my city, I celebrated the last High Holidays in his Shul!"
The next time I met him he had some corrections to the story, that he heard from Rabbi Mendy... And things have taken a sharp turn for him, for the better...
Last week, I wrote about Erev Pesach 2008. Today, I’d like to go back another 10 years to the same day. It was one of the most influential days of my life.
That Erev Pesach, I was crying my heart out in a hotel suite in Uzhgorod, Ukraine. We were 19 years old when my friend, Mendy, and I accepted the mandate to lead Pesach in that city. It was the first public seder there after over 50 years of communism.
The days before the seder went extremely well. We got great publicity from the local media and we were able to reach out to hundreds of Jewish homes in the city. The feedback was amazing. We were expecting no less than 200 people to come to the seder in the main hall of a big hotel (that cost $40 for the evening..).
We called the Chabad Rabbi of Western Ukraine to report of our plans. He was very excited and he informed us that a truckload of Pesach supplies would make its way to us at least 24 hours before the event.
The night before the seder, we invited some twenty teens in the community for a “chametz hunt,” as well as to help us in starting the preparation of foods, etc. We had a great evening, but no truck arrived. We apologised and promised the boys and girls that we would contact them as soon as we heard anything.
That night, Mendy and I didn’t sleep much. We ran to the window every few minutes, with every passing headlight bringing hope of a delivery...
I won’t take you through the nerve-racking hours of the morning and early afternoon. It was perhaps the longest day of my life... How would we show our faces to people? They were coming in from the whole city to a great Pesach seder and we had nothing to serve, not even matzah! Just the thought was embarrassing beyond description.
Throughout these hours, we were on the phone with Rabbi Wilhelm, who wasn’t able to do much besides offer some words of hope and encouragement.
Two hours before the event, we watched the first guests arrive from the window of our hotel room. They were dressed in their finest clothes, the elderly wearing military medals, and the room was set beautifully, but we had no food to offer.
I called Rabbi Willhelm and said, “OK. It’s time for plan B. What do we do with two hundred guests tonight with not even the basic needs for a Pesach Seder?”
“Listen” he said, “You have been very proud of yourself, and for a good reason. You did a lot in a short visit. I believe that the moment you feel hopeless and turn your eyes to heaven, realizing that you are powerless, then it will be the right time for G-d’s salvation.”
I hung up the phone with tears in my eyes, in total despair. Suddenly, I heard my friend, Mendy, screaming from the other end of the room: “It’s here!”
This story came to an amazing closure in Victoria, but I will leave the rest of the story for, G-d willing, next week.
Erev Pesach 2008, I was at Safeway doing some last shopping before the dawn of the holiday. In my cart was some horseradish roots and other vegetables customary for Pesach. When I got to the cashier I was caught by surprise.
The lady ahead of me in line, which I have never met before, also had horseradish and parsley, evidently shopping for her Seder as well... When I glanced at her groceries, I noticed her hands slowly covering the items so they weren't visible to me - as if to say, "I'm celebrating Pesach but I'm not interested in being identified".
Respectfully, I moved my eyes from the checkout counter and made as if I didn't see anything.
My first thought was "What an odd way to celebrate freedom! What's there to hide in our Jewish essence? Why not celebrate our identity proudly?"
But then there was a second thought. Look how amazing the Jewish people are! This lady seemingly had some negative experience that had made her run away from community life. She may have lived here for many years, but something may have distanced her so far that she wasn't interested in involving herself with other Jews. Nevertheless, she couldn't let Pesach go by without having her bitter herbs...
In 2004, Chani and I had the privilege of visiting the Jewish community in Toulouse, France, when we attended the wedding of Chani's brother who married the daughter of the Chabad Rabbi there, Rabbi Yosef Matusof. These past few days, memories from that visit have been flooding my mind.
Though I’d been to France before - that was the first time I got to experience the Jewish community from within. It was very interesting and unique. Thinking in particular about my experience in Toulouse - two things stand out in the life of that community.
First was unity. There were a few synagogues, organizations, and Rabbis and they all worked together with mutual respect. The deep connection between the members of the communities was apparent. I remember the joy they expressed at the wedding, the shining faces of the participants appearing as though they were marring their own child.
The other feeling displayed so beautifully by the community was their great warmth. The feeling of family and great care wasn’t only toward their own community members, but was, perhaps even more so, toward the guests. Guests who had been there for only a few hours were treated with charm like they had been there forever.
The tragedy that hit the community at the beginning of this week is beyond words. The pain of the families of the young children is unbearable. I can just imagine the great shock the community finds itself in right now, and the broken hearts of children who saw evil in its ugliest form.
Let’s pray for the young injured child, Aaron Ben Leah, who is still fighting for his life, for a complete and speedy recovery. Let's send our blessings from the depth of our hearts to all our brothers and sisters of the Toulouse Jewish community. May the All-mighty give you the strength to overcome these horrific days, may He bring healing to each one of you and to the collective community, and may you see very soon, together with all of us, the fulfillment of the prophecy of Isaiah, "God shall wipe the tears off every face, and the shame of His people He shall remove from upon the entire earth." Amen!
A member of the Jewish community, who is a social worker, informed me of a current patient in the Jubilee hospital who speaks only Yiddish and Russian. Being that I speak Yiddish, she asked if I can visit.
Yesterday I made it over. I sat next to Vladimir and began speaking to him in Yiddish. His eyes lit up when he heard those Yiddish words - "Mame Loshon". Speaking his childhood tongue made him travel back in time, and without me asking, he started sharing his memories of growing up in Chernovcy, Ukraine. He spoke of the beautiful Synagogue, the lively community, the town that was once a "Jewish Shtetel" and lost its identity with the rise of communism. There was a combination of joyous recollections and sad memories.
It was clear to me that although he was sitting right next to me; he was far away on another plane of existence. It was just that every few minutes, he would pause and say "dos vos gedeinkt zach mir", this is what I remember...
As he spoke about his grandfather, who was his main educator after his father died in the war, I asked him if he remembers him putting on Tefilin. "What do you mean if I remember?! It was every single day, even after the Shul closed down he did this at home, every morning".
"But there was no Cheder at the time so I never learned how to put them on myself, and I never did" he ended with a gloomy face.
"It's not too late” I said "I will bring Tefillin tomorrow and I'll show you and help you put them on".
For the first time since I came Vladimir smiled broadly "Azoy vee der zeide” – “just like my grandfather" he said.
While it seems like Leibel got his fair share of coverage lately, I think this incident and picture is worth sharing
Two weeks ago, Leibel, who is 6 years old, took for the first time a pencil and paper trying to make a portrait of a figure he knew. When he looked on the finished product - he himself was surprised by the success; we were stunned.
I asked him to draw a picture of my father, who he is named after. A short while later he came up with a drawing that actually captured the look of his grandfather, who he never had the privilege to meet.
Leibel looked on the paper and realized that he just found in himself a talent he had no idea he contained. He saw the faces of his parents and sibling and he was filled with pride of his accomplishment.
I realized that it is a defining moment. "Leibel" I said "Hashem has given you a special gift, you didn't work for it or earn it, how are you going to thank Him for it? In what way are you going to serve Him with this talent?"
Children are so sincere. Leibel listened carefully and then his facial expression changed to one of gratitude and perhaps even humility. "When I daven, I'll make sure to thank Hashem for this too" he said.
A year after my letter to Tamar Fogel, now 12, who lost both of her parents and three siblings in a massacre inside her home, I decided it was time to send her a follow-up letter:
Dear Tamar,
I know it is very difficult days for you and your family, as you are marking the first Yhartzeit of five of your closest family members who were brutally killed by terrorists.
I want to share with you an incident that happened on the day of their Yahrtzeit, here in Victoria, BC.
On Tuesday evening I went to my friend’s house for our weekly Torah learning Chavruta. Just as I walked in he told me with excitement of the time he just spent with his children studying Hebrew for the JEP program. "I couldn't believe how much my son learned this year" he said. "In fact, now I need to catch up with him. I'm brushing up on my Hebrew with my children and it’s great!" When I got home I realized the significance of the day...
As you may recall, the JEP program, or in its full name "The Fogels Jewish Enrichment Program" is a project through our Hebrew School, where children practice their Aleph Bet and Hebrew reading and read from a “Jewish Heroes” book daily. At the end of the week they receive a prize.
When I wrote to you last year, I had no idea if this would turn into a reality and if it would make a mark on Jewish life on our island.
Today I can tell you, Tamar, the JEP program has effected the Jewish education and commitment of Jewish families on the island more than we ever imagined.
Here is an example: A brother and sister who joined grade 4 of our Hebrew School with no Hebrew or Jewish background at all, now started reading Hebrew, and have become inspired to discover their Jewishness, due to the "Jewish Heroes" book that they are reading every day, as part of their participation in the JEP program.
I know your parents, and Yoav, Elad and Hadas are smiling now. They are happy to see you grow in the way they have paved for you, but they can also take pleasure in the fact that their killers have not been successful, they wanted to extinguish Jewish life, but their attack ignited more flames, not only in your hometown but on the other side of the planet too.
Following my blog from last week, I got feedback from many readers who commented on Leibel’s generosity to his sister. I thank you all for your kindness, but there is something that I think needs to be said:
Leibel, like the rest of our children, thank G-d, is a normal child. He sometimes argues with his siblings and even gets into fights; he is not always a "tzadik" who gives in and forgives...
In fact, this incident is a lesson that could be applied to every child, which I'd like to share, especially with those of us who are educating young children.
We sometimes believe that the only way to get a young child to be nice is for his or her own benefit. We may ask the child to give something to a friend or a sibling so they will get some reward in the future. We may explain to them that if they are rude to others, people will be rude to them, and if they are nice, they'll get the same treatment from others.
But there is another way of getting them to make the right choices - do a mitzvah! You may not get any benefit out of it, but you’ll have done a good deed that will make your creator proud of you. You'll be surprised how readily small children accept that. By explaining this concept to them, you will have taught them a great lesson for life - it's not all about you. We are not here merely to serve ourselves; we are here to serve a higher calling.
As some of you may know, Chani left on Wednesday to take part in the International Chabad Women’s Convention. Each one of these visits raises my appreciation of the amount of responsibility Chani carries with so much patience and devotion... Before she left, she made challah for Shabbat...
Leibel was very excited to see Mommy making challah on Tuesday evening and asked to shape some dough as well. Leibel worked for a while, shaping the six-strand braided challah he learned from his mother. When it was done, his satisfaction was evident.
The Challahs are about to go in to the oven and Rivky dashes into the kitchen. "I didn't know you were making challah tonight! I always like to make challah myself. It's not fair..."
Chani explained that the dough was all shaped already and she'll have the opportunity again next week. Rivky clearly wasn't happy.
At that moment, I watched Leibel trotting quietly to the table. He lifted his beautiful Challah from the pan and handed it to Rivky. "Just squish it and make your own," he said.
There are no greater moments of nachas than seeing your children giving of themselves to another and feeling the pain of their sibling.
"Why did you do it?" I asked Leibel. - "Because it's a mitzvah" he answered with the brightest smile.
Mendel Oberlander, 20, son of my Colleague, Chabad rabbi of Hungary, passed away this morning after fighting leukemia for more than half of his life.
Mendel was loved dearly by everyone who knew him. While going through great suffering and the most difficult times, he never lost his faith and smile.
Mendel loved the Mitzvah of Tefillin. Not only was he putting them on himself every day, but there was also another very special thing he used to do with them at every opportunity. In the short video clip below you can see Mendel in action. The film was taken in a camp of “Chai Lifeline” in the summer of 2010.
May the inspiration from this video be for his memory, and may his family not know any more sorrow.
I asked him to draw a picture of my father, who he is named after. A short while later he came up with a drawing that actually captured the look of his grandfather, who he never had the privilege to meet.
