A Lost Briefcase That Changed Generations

Since 1978, Mrs. Ruchama Thaler has served a Chabad emissary in Los Angeles and a first-grade teacher in the local Chabad schools, presently in Bais Chaya Mushka. She was interviewed by JEM in February 2023.

When I was nineteen years old, I embarked on my life-long career as a first-grade teacher. This year is my fifty-first year of teaching first grade and I have to say — with apologies to my husband whom I married a year later — that these first-graders were my first love.

I had spent the whole summer at my parents’ home in Worcester, Massachusetts, preparing for my first job at Yeshiva of Kings Bay in Brooklyn, and then, a few days before school was to start, I returned to an apartment that I shared with several other girls in Crown Heights.

I took a taxi for the last part of my journey and, in my excitement, I left my briefcase behind in the cab. That briefcase had all my textbooks and the lesson plans I had prepared so painstakingly. It was irreplaceable!

Now, this was 1974, when there were no cellphones, no internet, no Google. I didn’t even have a phone in my apartment. So, I had to use my upstairs neighbor’s phone to call the cab company, but the answer I got was, “Forget it lady! You are looking for a needle in a haystack.” I was very upset. What was I to do?

Then, something unbelievable happened. My neighbor summoned me to the phone because a man named Danny, who identified himself as a jeweler from Bay Ridge, was calling. He had my briefcase!

And, he had an amazing story to tell.

It seems that after I got out of the cab, a kindly Irishman got in. He noticed the briefcase on the floor and he asked the driver, “Are you going to return it? Somebody must be looking for it.” But the driver just said, “I don’t have time for that!”

“Do you mind if I take it and try to find the owner?” the Irishman asked. The driver didn’t mind and didn’t care. So the Irishman took the briefcase home and recognized that the writing on
the books inside was Hebrew. Since the only Jew he knew was Danny, the jeweler, he brought the briefcase to him.

The story could have ended right there. Danny could have said, “I have a business to run. I don’t have time to search for the owner.” The only clue he had was an envelope he found inside from Bais Rivka, the girls’ school I had attended, addressed to me in Worcester.

He found the number for Bais Rivka and, luckily, he spoke to someone who knew where I was staying. He got the number for my neighbor and he called, telling me that I could come pick up my briefcase.

So, the next day I traveled to Bay Ridge together with my roommate. When we met Danny — who was not religious — we used the opportunity to speak to him about the many mitzvah campaigns that
the Rebbe was promoting at that time, but he was not interested. “It’s not for me, it’s not for me,” he insisted. But he added that he had a daughter who was exploring Judaism. When we heard that, we said that if she ever wanted to come and spend Shabbat with us, she would be most welcome.

But we didn’t leave it at that. As a thank you gift for all the trouble he had gone through, we went back and brought him two mezuzahs — one for his home and one for his store. We again repeated the Shabbat invitation for his daughter, but nothing came of it.

Then just before Rosh Hashanah, the Rebbe launched his candle-lighting campaign. It was Wednesday, 24th of Elul 5734 (11th of September, 1974). On this occasion, the Rebbe spoke at length exclusively to women about how the world was deteriorating into moral darkness. He suggested a simple solution — bring light — have all Jewish women and girls light candles before each Shabbat and holiday.

My roommate and I looked at each other, and we agreed that we had to go back to Danny and bring a candle-lighting kit for his daughter. And this we did. Still, we didn’t hear from her.
Four years passed — during which time I got married, had two children, and moved to Los Angeles. One day, out of the blue, I got a letter forwarded to me by my former neighbor. It was from Danny’s daughter, Leah.

She wrote that she had received the candle-lighting kit years before and put it to good use. Not only that — the lighting of the candles was just the beginning of her Torah observance. She went on:

About a year after … I began to keep kosher. It was hard in my home, and with my friends eating out, but I have been kosher ever since. When I went away to college, I learned Hebrew and began taking Torah classes one night a week with a few other people in my university. The classes made me want to learn more. This summer I have decided to go to Bais Chana [women’s seminary] in Minnesota to study. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. I’m really looking forward to going. I’m going alone but will not be alone in feeling once I get there. There are girls like me who have had little or no religious background attending. I think it will be a strengthening experience and will help me to see if I want to continue studying [Torah] in the fall as opposed to going back to college. I have been thinking about you for a while now and have always regretted not accepting your Shabbos invitation. I guess I just wasn’t ready then. I had to learn for myself …
I know that a long time has passed since you gave me the candle holder and I’m sure that many more have been passed out among Jewish youth all across the country. But this is timeless. It’s never too late for a person to learn. And I surely wasn’t going to let time get in the way of telling you that you did a great mitzvah.

I couldn’t believe it. I immediately made a copy of the letter and sent it to the Rebbe, who replied, “Thank you thank you! It’s a mitzvah to publicize all this! I will mention it at the resting place [of the Previous Rebbe.]” As a result, the letter was printed in various Chabad publications.

Years later, I heard that Leah was living in Crown Heights raising a beautiful Chabad family of seven children. And then I heard that her son was living in Los Angeles and had married a girl whom I had taught in first grade. Since then, I have taught their children.

This wonderful, blessed turn of events started way back in 1974 with the Rebbe’s candle-lighting campaign! And it goes to show that, as the Rebbe taught, when you do a mitzvah you have no idea what ripple effect you are setting in motion and what the end result will be.