By Dani Chitrik
A friend is the greatest of all blessings, and that which we care least to thank.
Nosson, was the greatest friend one could wish for, we cried on his shoulder, and took pride when he laughed at our jokes, his robust smile lit his countenance, there was love radiating from him, his soft words and kind advice were an antidote to a soothing heart, he affected everyone that he met.
Tears streamed from our eyes when we heard about the tragedy, the pain is agonizing, all we could think of was “if Nosson was here we would gain comfort by crying with him”, but the comforter could not give comfort, the giver was no longer there, we needed to be pacified over the pacifier, as tears slowly stream down our cheeks our wide eyes stare out to the black space, our solemn voices crack with cries, our bodies shaking with fever fell crouching to the ground. The unthinkable happened.
When I first met Nosson in 3rd grade, I was lonely, being new to school he helped me be part of it, he always made you feel proud of what you accomplished, his nonjudgmental remarks came from a altruistic Neshama, with a heart of gold he shone like the midday sun, in 7th grade we had color war, when we were split up on different teams, he never hesitated to inquire how we were doing.
His witty remarks were engraved in his smile, despite having hardships in his life, he searched for happiness, he felt the soul and relieved its stress, and I would constantly see him taking aside a person to talk to him. Adoring friendship he coached people to be sociable. Throughout my school years I remember him sharing his snacks with unfortunate people, when he received a package in yeshiva he would share his cake and cookies, he had this technique of making you think that all he had belonged to you, constantly expressing gratitude for your friendship, making it plain that he like people, it was hard for them to resist loving him back. His selfless way of life was an example.
He was a prototype Bochur with Torah and Chassidus as his life; he toiled on himself and gained, in Mesivta he would awake an hour early to review “Tanya Bal Peh”, diligently reviewing what he learned. Every time he had extra money he would buy books. When he “Farbrenged”, his words vibrated with wisdom, he always wished to emulate his father living as a true Chossid. There was no other path in his life but that of Shlichus, always vocalizing the pride he took in his family of Shluchim.
“Ohev shalom verodef shalom”, putting people together, strife was non existent in his presence, he dexterously maneuvered to sort things out, a “Neshama” of peace, he kept us all together, the rope which bound the cluster, he secured friends not by accepting favors but by doing them.
We are told a story about the “Mitteler Rebbe”, one night he was so immersed in his study of texts that he failed to notice that his son had woken and was crying. His father, the “Alter Rebbe”, heard the noise, went up to the bedroom, soothed the baby and sang it to sleep. Then he went in to his son, still bent over his books, and said: “My son, whatever you are doing, you must never be deaf to the cries of a child.”
Nosson lived by this story, listening to every cry; he gave you the confirmation that your plight was known and your words heard. Charismatically impressing turning the dullest moment into joyful festivity, his power and vitality enlightened every “Simcha”.
Our heart is with you Nosson we will never forget you.
He never wanted to see people cry. He wanted to make everyone happy. Let’s all think back and remember how Nosson touched our lives.
You will forever be missed; my only comfort is that I know, you will be with us again, very soon marching proudly with your father and the Rebbe!
We will all be united laughing in tears together.