By Rabbi Asher Zeilingold, Clear Vision
The anniversary of the Rebbe Rayatz’s yartzeit in 1958 was the first time that I participated when the Rebbe led the davening. The room at 770 Eastern Parkway was packed to its gills, and you could feel the excitement in the air.
After the davening, I was in a daze from the entire scene, the large candles and the palpable solemnity in the air. On my way back to my parents’ home, I found myself wondering what the Rebbe was doing at that moment. By then, I understood that there were special days that required preparation, and that every moment on such days was precious. Since Yud Shevat was the only auspicious day of its kind that had occurred in the United States, it felt all the more significant to us.
That night, I pictured the Rebbe in his office, deeply engrossed in study or contemplating spiritual matters.
A few minutes after I arrived home, the phone rang. It was the Rebbe’s secretariat asking for my father. I told him that he was not home. The secretary told me that he had just been in the Rebbe’s office, and the Rebbe had asked him to call to inquire about the health of my older sister.
My sister had written to me while I was in Montreal that she had been in and out of the hospital, which was why her response to my letters was delayed. When I wrote to my father asking what was going on, he replied to me that she had heart issues. He was worried for her health, so I wrote to the Rebbe about her.
At that point my parents were not close to Chabad, and certainly not my sister, either. But my father did go to 770 from time to time to daven, and it seems that the Rebbe was keeping tabs on my sister through him.
I learned that spirituality, sanctity, did not mean being removed and not caring about others. Caring for another was also part of spirituality.
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