Care & Compassion
What gave a Holocaust survivor the will to live, despite everything around him? How did a local ad save a Brownsville man’s life? The Avner Institute presents two powerful stories, as told by noted scholars Rabbis Zalman Posner and Mendel Baumgarten, of the tender attention given to all Jews, both in Europe and America, by the Previous Lubavitcher Rebbe, Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, obm.
In Loving memory of Haddssha bas Schneur Zalman
“To Remain Alive”
Rabbi Posner relates:
During our trip to Europe, we had a list of Belgian addresses to visit. One of them was a wealthy man who was not a Lubavitcher; therefore we had lower expectations as far as warm reception or donations.
To our surprise, this man was quite happy to see us. “It’s an honor to meet the Rebbe’s emissaries,” he said.
When we asked what his connection was to the Rebbe and Chabad, he invited us in and pulled up a chair.
Life or Death
He began:
During the war he was a yeshiva student in a Polish ghetto. He hid deep inside a bunker all day, with his learned companions, poring over Jewish texts, while a Jew from outside smuggled in food. This man was himself clearly a lover of scholarship; when asked about news of the ghetto or the war, he replied, “It’s all nonsense. The main thing is your Torah study.”
This was their daily schedule until one day, during the deportations, the soldiers broke into their bunker and hauled them on the trains to Auschwitz. The benefactor who had brought them food was killed. In the meantime, this man and another former student struggled to stay alive.
One day, while on work duty in the fields, they huddled together and began discussing plans for escape. To their horror, they realized that the guard was standing there, listening.
The guard slowly raised his rifle.
The two terrified Jews attempted to change the subject, but the guard dismissively waved his hand. “Don’t try to pull one over. But I’ll tell you what. If you can answer my question, I’ll let you go. If not . . . .” He mock pulled the trigger.
He then asked, “How can all the Jewish books be full of praise for Jews over other nations when right now I have the ability to kill you? Your lives are dependent on me, the non-Jew.”
This future philanthropist was speechless. However, his friend piped in, “The Al-mighty created the world, and there is a Holy Land with a Holy City and the holiest mountain on which the Temple was built.” He went on to describe the daily sacrifices, the destruction, and the long, bitter exile.
The friend concluded, “The ones who were righteous died immediately. The others who were not remained alive to suffer.”
The Nazi put down his rifle. He removed from his pocket a slice of bread, a precious commodity in the camp, and tossed it to them.
After the war, the two liberated men returned to a land which, though now empty of Jews, was still hostile. After much wandering, they realized that no place really wanted them. In despair they wanted to die.
“Just then,” the philanthropist ended, “we came across a newspaper. In it was a letter from the Previous Lubavitcher Rebbe, intended for us, the Holocaust survivors. When we saw that this extraordinary man was thinking about us, we decided that life was worth living!”
“A Sudden Change”
Rabbi Baumgarten relates:
When we were yeshiva students, we had an announcement from the Previous Lubavitcher Rebbe that everyone should be a ba’al koreh, read from the Torah, in a local shul. The idea was simple. The synagogue staff, happy to have someone read for free, gave us great respect. Since we already had a foot in the door, so to speak, we had the opportunity to give over words of Chassidus and introduce people to the Rebbe’s teachings.
At the time I lived in Brownsville, the neighborhood next to Crown Heights, in Brooklyn. I found a little place on East New York Avenue, about a half hour from my home, called Rei’im HaAhuvim. However, among the worshippers was a wealthy man who apparently disliked the Rebbe and the Rebbe’s work in America. Openly, while I was there, he would disparage Chabad.
One day this man’s brother was diagnosed with cancer. Since he lacked health insurance, the wealthy man paid for the medical expenses out of his own pocket. Thank G-d, the brother recovered. However, the wealthy man was now left penniless. In fact, his financial situation was so dire that he placed an appeal in the Morning Journal. Lacking money even for the ad, he wrote just one line: A Jew needs parnosseh [money]. Please send him your contributions at this address . . . .
To his sorrow, nobody responded. Except one person: Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn. At the sight of the envelope full of cash from the Rebbe, this man was speechless – and ashamed, of having maligned him.
The following Shabbos, before the Torah reading, the man marched to the center of the shul and banged his hand on the lectern.
“I would like to tell you what the Lubavitcher Rebbe did for me,” he announced.
After narrating his story, he publicly asked the Rebbe’s forgiveness. And, needless to say, his attitude toward the Previous Rebbe was completely different.
To receive to your inbox email: [email protected]
