Monthly Archives: December 2024

As a young man, I came to the United States from Israel to study at the Chabad yeshivah in New York and to be near the Rebbe. However, after several years, my visa was about to expire and I was told that, once it did, I would have to return home. I did not want to leave, so I wrote to the Rebbe explaining my problem, but I did not receive a reply.

Click here for full-color print version

Meanwhile, Rabbi Yisroel Jacobson, the spiritual mentor of the yeshivah, got me a job as a Hebrew teacher at a school in New Jersey, which qualified me for a green card, and eventually for U.S. citizenship. Only a year later did I learn that the Rebbe was behind this solution to my problem. Even if he didn’t reply to my letter, he thought about me and asked Rabbi Jacobson to find a way to help me. So I knew then that my place was here, and that the Rebbe wanted me to stay.

In 1976, three years after my wedding, the Rebbe offered me a job looking after the central Chabad library, creating a catalog and organizing what was already an enormous collection, comprising some fifty thousand volumes. (Today it numbers more than a quarter million volumes.)

Toward that end, I oversaw a staff that was needed to inventory this huge collection, which included not only books but also handwritten letters and manuscripts. The first effort resulted in an old-fashioned card catalog, which even back then – in 1978! – the Rebbe wanted to put on a computer, but the technology was not yet sufficiently developed. Eventually, we got an expert to write a special program for us so the card catalog could be digitized, and we spent four years inputting all the entries. Today, of course, everything is on the web, where it can be accessed by anyone.

The other part of my job was editing new publications.

Among the first works that I edited was a book of the Halachic responsa (teshuvos) of the third Chabad Rebbe, the Tzemach Tzedek. Many of his rulings had already been published, but the library had acquired even more of his handwritten letters and notes, so the Rebbe asked me to gather them all together, edit them, and prepare a manuscript for print. (more…)

As a young, newly-married man, I was offered a position as one of the Rebbe’s emissaries. This was in 1977, a time when there were only a small number of us in existence – now there are thousands – and I was posted in Bergen County, answering to Rabbi Moshe Herson, who headed Chabad activities in all of New Jersey. The Rebbe gave his blessing, and I went off with great enthusiasm, setting up Jewish outreach programs and events.

Click here for full-color print version

One of our first programs was aimed at encouraging girls to light Shabbat candles, which was a huge success with thousands of participants. Then, at Chanukah time in 1980, we decided to light a Chanukah menorah in Hackensack, the county seat. The town council gave us immediate approval, the fire department provided a “cherry picker” so we could reach the top of the menorah for the lighting, and we got a nice turnout. Each night, some important personage in the community was chosen for the lighting, plus we had joyous singing and dancing. It was a beautiful event, well covered by the local press.

As far as I was concerned, everybody was happy, but it turned out not to be so. A few months after, I got a call from a woman representing the Teaneck Jewish Community Council, an umbrella organization made up of the leaders of the various Jewish groups in Teaneck. I thought she was calling to invite me to stage a public Chanukah lighting ceremony in her town as well, but it turned out she was calling to protest such ceremonies. She said that the Teaneck Jewish Community Council had fought to prohibit any religious displays on public property, and they thought that Jewish symbols, in particular, should stay under the radar.

Now, I was young, energetic and stupid. Her argument only caused me to resolve to put up a Chanukah menorah in Teaneck. As a result, a big war ensued, which was not very pleasant, to say the least. But, in my defense, I must say that because I forced an examination of this issue, many positive things happened in the end.

As things got heated, the Rebbe was brought into the picture, and he responded in writing, explaining that this issue was not new. He noted that the constitutionality of public menorahs had been fully examined many years ago, that there was overwhelming support for the idea, and that, as a result, “gigantic Chanukah menorahs” stood on public property in Manhattan, in Washington, the nation’s capital, as well as Philadelphia, the birthplace of America’s independence, and many cities throughout the United States. (more…)

My mother was a member of the Schneersohn family, a descendent of the Alter Rebbe, the founder of the Chabad movement. On the other side, my father was from the famous Porush family that moved from Lithuania to Jerusalem many generations ago. Their wedding was an interesting one, with guests from both of these very different groups in attendance.

Click here for full-color print version

I myself was born in Jerusalem, in 1936, but was raised in Seattle, Washington. At the age of fifteen, I went to yeshivah in Chicago, at the Hebrew Theological College – which later became known as Skokie Yeshiva – where my maternal grandparents lived.

In yeshivah, I took my studies very seriously. At the same time, I also became active with Bnei Akiva, the Religious-Zionist youth organization.

Now, Chicago had Jews of all persuasions. Most were not Torah observant, but they were all Zionistic, and so their children would join Bnei Akiva and learn about Judaism there. As a youth group counselor, I would help bring these children together every Shabbat, to sing songs, play games, and tell stories. We made Judaism a joyful experience for them and our three-week summer camp, Camp Moshava, had a tremendous effect on the children.

However, as I grew older and advanced at the yeshivah, it occurred to me that I might be spending too much time with Bnei Akiva. Rather than being a youth counselor, maybe I should be learning Torah the whole time! (more…)

I met the Rebbe when I was nineteen years old, not long after the death of my father in a tragic car accident. At the time, I was still coping with the aftereffects of that traumatic event and was confused about what course in life to follow. And then I remembered my father telling me when I was a small boy, “The Rebbe is a great leader of world Jewry, and if you ever find things too hard to manage, write to him or go to him for advice.”

Click here for full-color print version

So, in December of 1976, I made the trip from Sydney, Australia – where I was born, raised and educated – to see the Rebbe in New York.

In preparation for the audience, I had written a two-page letter in which I detailed my situation in life and posed half-a-dozen questions for the Rebbe:

My number one concern was my mother, who’d had a hard time ever since my father was killed. The accident happened in front of her eyes and, as a result, she suffered a nervous shock, what today is called PTSD. So, my first question was what should I do to help my mother and if there were any words of comfort from the Rebbe that I could convey to her.

In reply, the Rebbe spoke for several minutes about the mitzvah of honoring one’s parents. He cited various instances where this subject is mentioned in the Torah, in the works of the Prophets and in the teachings of the Talmudic sages. Then he said, “When you return home, you should tell your mother that you came to see me and I advised you that the greatest comfort a mother can receive is to see that her son is following in the footsteps of his father and adhering to the tenets of Jewish law. When you do so, it brings comfort to your father’s soul and comforts your mother in her grief.”

My second set of questions pertained to my education and future livelihood. My father had owned a pharmacy, so I wanted to know if I should enroll in university and become a pharmacist – a path neither of my parents had favored – or learn in yeshivah? Or, since a number of people seemed to think I had a good singing voice, should I perhaps become a cantor (chazan)?

Before answering those questions, the Rebbe said, “I would like to ask you about the death of your father. I realize that you might find it somewhat upsetting, but I think it’s necessary for you to speak about this.” (more…)

As a young child in Pretoria, South Africa, I was blessed with the G-d-given talent of music. I started to play the piano at age five, although, due to the secular nature of my family, I was not introduced to Chabad melodies (known as nigunim) until later in life.

Click here for full-color print version

This did not happen until my husband Michael, a dentist, began to care for Rabbi Mendel Lipskar, the Chabad emissary to Johannesburg, as his patient and our family became Torah observant. At the time – this was in 1978 – I was working toward my doctorate in music at the University of the Witwatersrand (better known as Wits).

A few years later, my husband and I traveled to New York to meet the Lubavitcher Rebbe, and it was a very special and profound experience for us both. My husband was seeking advice as to whether to continue his dental practice or to turn his attention to public health by founding a new department in this discipline at the university, and I was seeking blessings for my family and my career.

I don’t think anything could have prepared me for the electricity that I felt when I, along with my husband, entered the Rebbe’s study. Nor for the surprise. He was a combination of a grandfatherly, loving, nurturing human being but, at the same time, he was this very holy man, a true tzaddik. And I remember the experience of meeting him as being somehow other-worldly.

And yes, meeting such a person was a formidable experience which made me feel overwhelmed. And I think that after meeting the Rebbe, a person can never be the same again. This meeting and his blessings impacted me and my family forever after.

The Rebbe first answered my husband’s question – blessing him to pursue a career in public health – and then he asked us about our family. We spoke about our three daughters, also mentioning that I was pregnant with our fourth child. The Rebbe blessed me to have an easy delivery, and then he asked, “Have you brought photos of your children?” We had, and we were deeply moved how long the Rebbe studied the photos – not just looked at them – with loving care. (more…)