Precious Objects
Then — he saw it! It lay not far from the trolley tracks. A trolley was approaching and his heart froze. Just a few inches separated the White Shofar from the wheels. Miraculously, the trolley ran over the shofar but did not shatter it.
Toldos Lavi Yitzchok
During the month of Elul, as we prepare for the Jewish New Year, it is customary to hear the shofar in advance. Many remember the powerful blasts of the Rebbe’s shofar, summoning us to return and repentance. The Avner Institute presents an amazing story, adapted from Toldos Lavi Yitzchok — biography of the Rebbe’s father Rabbi Lavi Yitzchok Schneerson — about two shofars, each an heirloom of his holy ancestors; each hidden from enemy eyes by his wife, Rebbetzin Chana, and loyal Chassidim, and each eventually brought to his son to blow in triumph on Rosh Hashanah.
Two Shofars
From Toldos Levi Yitzchak:
Rabbi Levi Yitzchok Schneerson, zt”l, father of the seventh Lubavitcher Rebbe, owned two precious shofars. They came into his possession as an inheritance from his holy ancestors. One shofar in particular – called “the Black Shofar” for its color – was inherited from the fourth Lubavitcher Rebbe, the Maharash. Every Rosh HaShana, Rabbi Levi Yitzchok stood on the lectern in the center of the large shul in Yekaterinoslav, removed the black shofar from its bag, and blew it proudly.
After Reb Levi Yitzchok’s arrest and exile to Kazakhstan, the Black Shofar remained with his wife, Rebbetzin Chana a”h. Surprisingly it had been overlooked by the evil ones during their thorough search of his home. The Rebbetzin quickly entrusted this precious heirloom to the Chassid Rabbi Yehuda Gurary, who also lived in Yekaterinoslav, with the hopes of recovering it in better days.
Eventually, Rebbetzin Chana joined her husband in exile. Knowing her husband would be confined there for a number of years and would thus need a shofar for Rosh HaShanah, she retrieved the heirloom from the son of Rabbi Gurary and brought it with her to Chili, the town of exile.
Exchange
Years passed. In 1944, the holy soul of Rabbi Levi Yitzchok returned to its Creator, and later Rabbi Yaakov Yosef Raskin, who together with his sons had greatly assisted Rabbi Levi Yitzchok and Rebbetzin Chana, managed to leave Russia. Before his departure he asked the widowed Rebbetzin, with whom he was close, to give him the shofar so he could take it out of Russia and avoid its falling into the wrong hands. The Rebbetzin obliged. Rabbi Raskin kept the shofar in his possession, and every year, for six years, he blew it until Elul 5710/1950.
One day, Rabbi Dovber Chaskind approached Rabbi Raskin and introduced himself as an emissary of the Previous Rebbe’s son-in-law. The future seventh Rebbe, hearing that Rabbi Raskin was keeping his father’s black shofar, wanted it back, since naturally he was the inheritor.
Rabbi Raskin did not hesitate, despite his attachment to something so precious. However, he asked for something in exchange — an item that belonged to the Previous Rebbe.
The seventh Rebbe presented him with a handkerchief. “My father-in-law, or saintly memory, owned it. Since you are the one who blows the shofar, you could cover it with this handkerchief.”
One year later, Rabbi Raskin wrote a highly emotional letter to Rebbetzin Chana:
I was delighted to read what my son Dovid wrote to me, that on Rosh HaShanah, this year, they blew the Black Shofar of the Rebbe Maharash, which I took from your esteemed honor in Alma Ata eight years ago. I blew it for six years every Rosh HaShanah and enabled others to fulfill their obligation.
Last year, when I received a letter from your son who asked me for the shofar, I’ll admit the truth. I won’t deny that it was very difficult to part with it, but I could not refuse the Rebbe’s request.
Now that I heard that they blew it on Rosh HaShanah before the Rebbe, I was very happy that this took place through me, for I brought it from Russia to here and guarded it like the pupil of my eye, and it finally came into the possession of their son.
The small, white shofar of the Tzemach Tzedek [third Lubavitcher Rebbe] is surely with Rabbi Tzvi Rabinowitz, may Hashem have mercy on him and all of anash [congregation] in Russia.
Last Days
What was the story of the other shofar, the white one?
During Rabbi Levi Yitzchok’s exile in Alma Ata, there lived together with him a simple man by the name of Chaim Ber. After Rabbi Levi Yitzchok’s demise, this Jew moved to Chernovitz, where he lived till his final day.
During the last Elul of his life, Chaim Ber called for the Chassid Rabbi Yosef Nimotin, who also lived there.
“I had never used the shofar,” Chaim Ber explained. “But this year I wish to hear the blasts from this holy shofar which had come from the Tzemach Tzedek.”
Rabbi Nimotin refused. “I cannot take responsibility for such a holy object. I would be afraid to dishonor it.”
On the morning of Rosh HaShanah, Rabbi Nimotin paid a visit to Chaim Ber. The shofar already lay on the table. Chaim Ber asked his friend once again to blow it, but again Rabbi Nimotin refused, saying he preferred to blow the shofar he was accustomed to using.
Suddenly Chaim Ber asked, “Did you go to the mikvah today?”
Rabbi Nimotin nodded.
“So blow this shofar for me,” Chaim Ber begged, knowing the rabbi had purified himself in preparation for Rosh Hashanah.
At last Rabbi Nimotin raised the white shofar and blew the blasts heralding the New Year.
Rabbi Nimotin turned to leave when he heard the feeble voice of Chaim Ber.
“Please take the shofar to your home,” Chaim Ber asked.
Rabbi Nimotin was surprised. He knew Chaim Ber guarded the shofar like a treasure. Nevertheless, he did what the latter asked. Apparently Chaim Ber had felt that his days were numbered and that the shofar needed to be under greater care.
Safekeeping
At some point later Rabbi Nimotin was arrested and, after a short trial, exiled to a labor camp for six years. His wife gave the shofar to his friend, Rabbi Hillel Lieberov, who kept it throughout Rabbi Nimotin’s incarceration.
This holy shofar underwent other tribulations. After Rabbi Nimotin was released, he began davening at the shul of the Iranian Jews. It was the first Rosh HaShanah and Day of Judgment when the Chassid, standing in his place, was ready to pour out his heart to Hashem.
Suddenly a hand placed a shofar in front of him. Rabbi Nimotin caught a glimpse of the back of Hillel Lieberov, who disappeared out the door. Rabbi Nimotin raised the shofar and immediately recognized it as the White Shofar.
His hands trembled. He had not expected the shofar to end up in his possession again and at such a significant time, shortly before the blowing of the shofar on Rosh Hashanah. He wondered what made his friend return it so hurriedly.
They later met and Rabbi Lieberov told him the following story.
On Rosh HaShanah morning, Rabbi Lieberov had taken the shofar with him on his way to shul, with the intent on blowing it and arousing mercy on himself and his family. He knew quite well how much mercy the Jewish people needed on this fateful day, when any who maintained their faith were persecuted.
When he arrived at shul, he noticed that the shofar was gone. At first he searched through his bag, but soon realized, to his consternation, that the shofar was gone!
His heart skipped a beat. He realized that he must have lost it somewhere, on his way from home to shul, and that finding it was unlikely.
Nevertheless, he retraced his steps. Who knows? Maybe the merit of the holy shofar would stand by him. Brokenheartedly, he rushed through the streets, scanning the buildings and lots for the White Shofar. Perhaps it had been pushed aside by the feet of passersby.
Then — he saw it! It lay not far from the trolley tracks. A trolley was approaching and his heart froze. Just a few inches separated the White Shofar from the wheels. Miraculously, the trolley ran over the shofar but did not shatter it.
“At that moment, I realized the shofar was not supposed to be in my possession,” said Rabbi Lieberov, “which is why I rushed to bring it to you.”
More time passed. It was 5706/1946, in the postwar transfer of refugees, when hundreds of Chassidic families were able to leave Russia. Rabbi Simcha Gorodetzky asked Rabbi Nimotin to entrust the White Shofar with him and bring it to the Rebbe. This was no simple feat, since this precious object was likely to fall into the hands of the border guards.
Nevertheless, the miracles continued. Rabbi Gorodetzky managed to cross the border and ultimately present the shofar to the Rebbe, who would proudly take it with him to the lectern that Rosh HaShanah.
