After getting married, my father served as a teacher and rabbi for the Adath Israel congregation in Washington Heights, New York. My sister and I were born there. When I was five years old, we moved to Toronto where Reb Koppel (great uncle of his wife and a prestigious Jew in Toronto) found a position for my father in a Satmar Yeshiva. My younger brother was born there. Although my father’s attitudes became close to those of Satmar (Hungarian Chassidic group zealous in their approach and very insular), and he sent us to study in schools and Yeshiva close to their approach, he still respected the Rebbe and always spoke of him to us with the highest regard.
Before my marriage in 1968, my father said that although we were not Lubavitch Chassidim, he wanted me to receive the Lubavitcher Rebbe’s blessing before my wedding, just as he had before his wedding, twenty years previously. It was not easy to schedule an appointment with the Rebbe without waiting for months because of his busy schedule. My father pleaded with the Rebbe’s secretariat to allow me in for a blessing. He finally agreed to let us in before the wedding, but only for a blessing — no other discussion because the Rebbe had a very tight schedule.
On the designated day, we flew in from Toronto. My father was excited at the prospect of seeing the Rebbe again. There were many people waiting for their turn to see the Rebbe that evening, and by the time we entered the Rebbe’s room, it was early morning. It was the first time I saw the Rebbe and he made a big impression on me. My father gave the Rebbe a note with my name and my bride’s name requesting that we merit to build a Jewish family.
Before even looking at the note, the Rebbe looked up at my father and smiled. He said, “It is now more than twenty years since you came here before your wedding. It’s high time, especially since my father-in-law sent you to me.”
My father stood shocked, unable to answer. Meanwhile, the secretary was knocking on the door that we should hurry, but the Rebbe motioned with his hand to dismiss the interruption. Opening the letter, he gave us his blessings to build our home as an everlasting edifice, and he also blessed my father with a long, good life. The Rebbe said to my father: “Just as you attended my wedding, so may G-d give you strength to attend your grandchild’s wedding.”
My father was very moved by this blessing.
Before going out, my father requested to ask the Rebbe a question. “We told the secretary that we would come in just for a blessing, but I would nevertheless like to ask an important question that has been bothering me, should the Rebbe permit me do so.”
The Rebbe smiled and said, “Since the (Previous) Rebbe sent you to me, I must answer all your questions.”
At that point the secretary began knocking on the door again to interrupt, and again the Rebbe motioned us to ignore it.
My father continued: “Living in a Satmar community, I often hear complaints and criticism about Lubavitch. How can you associate with people who are secular, irreligious and against the Torah? How can you put Tefillin on with people who are not observant? The verse in Psalms (139:21-22) states, “Whoever hates You, O G-d, I will hate.”My father apologized profusely, saying he didn’t mean to criticize, but only to understand and be able to explain to others.
The Rebbe answered: “Suppose the daughter of one of your zealous, ultra-religious neighbors were to abandon Judaism, G-d forbid. What would he do? Would he try to bring her back to Torah and mitzvot, or would he say: “Whoever hates G-d, I will hate” sever relations, and never want to see her again?”
The Rebbe continued: “Of course he would say his own daughter is different, as it says, “Do not remain oblivious to the plight of your relatives” (Isaiah 58:7). The Rebbe’s expression became serious, he banged on the table and said: “In G-d’s eyes, every Jew is as dear and precious as an only child. To my father-in-law, every Jew is a relative who cannot be ignored.”The Rebbe then looked at me and my father penetratingly and said: “We will conclude with a blessing.
“It is known that Chassidim celebrate the 5th night of Chanukah. The reason is because the fifth day of Chanukah can never occur on Shabbat. This represents a great darkness. The fifth candle thus symbolizes the great light of Chanukah, which can illuminate even such an intense darkness. This is the duty of every Jew, wherever he may find himself, be it in New York or Toronto or London. Every Jew is a part of G-d above, His only child. When you illuminate a Jewish soul, then even the farthest Jew, in the darkest place, can be awakened.”
My father was so taken aback and shocked to hear these words again that he didn’t hear the rest of the blessing of the Rebbe. He didn’t even remember leaving the Rebbe’s room. All the way back to Toronto he kept muttering to himself: “Amazing; most amazing!”Final section: Please read on.
Ten years passed. In 1978, my younger brother became engaged to a girl from London. Just minutes before leaving our house to fly there for the wedding, our neighbor, a highly respected member of the Satmar community, came in and asked to speak privately with my father. He confided to him that his daughter had forsaken Judaism and burst into tears. He and his wife didn’t know much about it in the beginning, as she hid it from them. But two weeks ago, to their great embarrassment and dismay, she ran off with a non-Jewish boyfriend and fled to London. All their efforts to locate her were unsuccessful. He asked my father, since he was going to London, to try to find his daughter and save her.
My father, who was a close friend of this neighbor, was terribly shaken by this story. I was also distraught and began thinking about what we could possibly do about this situation in London.
My brother’s wedding was a joyful celebration. On the first night of sheva brachot, the week of festive meals, my father told his new relative the story and asked his advice. The bride’s father told my father that he himself had no idea what to do, but he recommended a Lubavitch friend, Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak Gluck, a successful English lighting contractor with interests in many European countries, who had accomplished numerous missions for the Lubavitcher Rebbe and had helped many lost souls throughout Europe find their way back.
They immediately called him. Rabbi Gluck promised to do all he could. He called the girl’s parents in Toronto for any particles of information and clues on how to locate the girl.
My parents remained in London for twelve days. One day during Chanukah, Rabbi Gluck called. “Come quickly to my house. I have a nice surprise for you.”
My father hurried to Rabbi Gluck’s house. When he came in, he saw a girl sitting in the living room crying profusely. Rabbi Gluck had located the girl, and she wanted to return with them to Toronto.
As my father looked around the room, his eyes fell on the kindled Menorah. It had five burning candles. He felt faint as he recalled the Rebbe’s words to him from 50 years ago, and from 30 years ago and from 10 years ago:
“The fifth candle symbolizes the strength of the menorah light…the role of every Jew is to light up the darkest place, in Warsaw or London, …in New York or London, …in Toronto or London…. If his daughter were to stray from Judaism, …for G-d, every Jew is an only child, …for my father-in-law every Jew is a relative who cannot be ignored.”
The girl returned to her family and to Judaism. From that day on this ‘zealous neighbor’ stopped speaking against Lubavitch-Chabad.
When my father returned to Canada, he felt a strong desire to see the Rebbe again. But by this time, it was even more difficult to get a private audience with the Rebbe. It wasn’t until the following Tishrei, in 1979, my father succeeded in joining a group “private audience” with the Rebbe, along with all the guests who had come to the Rebbe for the holidays.
When his turn came to pass by the Rebbe, he could not speak and burst out crying from great emotion. Finally, he briefly told him the story. The Rebbe commented: “My father-in-law had great foresight.”
Every time my father retold this story, he would marvel over the wondrous miracle of the Rebbe. Fifty years ago, when he was a bridegroom, the Rebbe saw what would happen 50 years later. But even more, he could not get over the modesty of the Rebbe, who attributed everything to his father-in-law’s foresight.
The chain of miracles did not end there.
My father passed away on the 14th day of Kislev, 1988, following the Sheva Berachot – the celebration week of my eldest daughter’s marriage. Thus, was fulfilled the Rebbe’s blessing: that he would rejoice at the wedding of his grandchild. It was exactly 60 years to the day since the Rebbe’s wedding in Warsaw!
This story was told by Rabbi Moshe-Chaim Greenwald.
Heard in Yiddish by Rabbi Yosef Wineberg z”l
Slightly adapted from Yerachamiel Tills English rendition.
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