A Rabbi & A Father

In the summer of 1971, I arrived in Eretz Yisroel for the first time, to study Torah under the guidance of the great Goan & Tzaddik HoRav Chaim Pinchos Scheinberg. In those days it was difficult for parents to send their children across the globe to study Torah.There were no cell phones, fax machines or email. Just making a regular phone call, was a challenge. It required operator assistance, dealing with different time zones and a hefty expense. A phone line connection had to be scheduled in advance and established between the two parties in two different parts of the world. It could take hours. Therefore communication was generally through letter writing. Consequently, the separation family felt then, was real. For my parents to send away their only son, was an extra special sacrifice. Only because the Rosh Hayeshiva guaranteed  them, that he would take care of me like his own son did they agree to send me off.

Arrived in Eretz Yisroel right before Tishe B’Av, in order to have ample time to prepare for the upcoming Elul Zman. For  young American boys, to acclimate to Eretz Yisroel living, in those days required real adjustment. It was a relatively new undeveloped country, still recuperating from three recent wars. Life was very different from that in the USA, let alone the language barrier, culture shock and change of environment.

The Yeshiva had just moved in to its new building, located

in the developing Kiryat Mattersdorf neighborhood in Yerushaliyim. Even before I had a chance to fully acclimate to the limited food, water quality, mountain air and straw mattress,Tishe B’Av had arrived. Needless to say, reciting Kinnus for the first time in Yerushaliyim was very inspiring. In the morning after davening, while exiting the main study hall, I fainted. The bochurim quickly carried me to my room two floors below, while someone ran to tell the Rosh Hayeshiva that I had suddenly taken ill. It didn’t take long before the Rosh Hayeshiva was sitting at my bedside, feeding me a teaspoon of whiskey with a biscuit less than a kezaiye’s every nine minutes. Till he was satisfied, I was recovering he stayed with me. He did not place the task on anyone else. The Rosh Hayeshiva cared for me like a father to a son, just as he promised my parents he would do. Not just then, but throughout the next 50 years, even after my parents passed on, the Rosh Hayeshiva was always concerned for me and my families welfare.

Years later when the Rosh Hayeshiva was already in his late nineties, he would stay in my home while visiting the USA, to raise funds for the yeshiva. I had the unique privilege of paying him back for the spoon feeding care he gave me when I was young, by spoon feeding him, now that he was to old to eat himself. He always gave of himself and likewise now, it was his chance to receive in return.

In Hashem’s world no good deed is overlooked. Hashem makes sure that what goes around, comes around,מדה כנגד מדה.