Friday, Shevat 9, 5781 / January 22, 2021
B"H
Friday, Shevat 9, 5781 / January 22, 2021
In this week’s Parsha, Bo, we read that when Pharaoh refused to let the children go, Moshe told Pharao, “With our young and with our old we will go.”
This Shabbat, the tenth day in the month, Shevat, will be the 70th Yartzeit of the previous Chabad Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneerson. It is also seventy years since the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, took over the Chabad leadership and a guiding light to Jews from all walks of life in our generation.
In connection with this I would like to share the following story as told eighteen years ago, by Rabbi Aaron Dovid Neuman, who is a first hand witness to this wonderful compassionate story with the Rebbe.
Here is the story as told by Rabbi Neuman:
I was born in 1934 in the village of Vizhnitz, Ukraine. When I was a small boy, my parents immigrated to Antwerp, Belgium. Belgium had a large Jewish community—some 50,000 Jews lived in Antwerp at that time—and they hoped to have a better life there.
Unfortunately, our stay did not last long. In 1940, the Germans invaded Belgium and immediately began deporting and killing Jews. So everybody started running. We ran across the border to France. I was only six years old at the time, but I was old enough to realize that we were fleeing for our lives.
We made our way to Marseilles, where my grandmother—my mother’s mother—and also my mother’s sister lived. A group of Lubavitcher chassidim lived there, and we were welcomed warmly. But the problem was that there was nothing for us there. By nothing, I mean that with the war going on, there was not enough food, and also not enough adequate shelter to handle the influx of all the refugees. We moved from house to house, from place to place. A few months later the Nazis invaded Paris, and the situation got even worse. In the midst of all this chaos and upheaval, my family was forced to split up. Only after the war did I get to see them again. Meanwhile, I was sent to an orphanage in Marseille.
The orphanage housed some forty or maybe fifty children, many of them as young as three and four years old. Some of them knew that their parents had been killed; others didn’t know what became of their mother or father. Often you would hear children crying, calling out for their parents, who were not there to answer.
As the days wore on, the situation grew more and more desperate, and food became more and more scarce. Many a day we went hungry.
And then, in the beginning of the summer of 1941, a man came to the rescue. We did not know his name; we just called him Monsieur, which is French for “Mister.” Every day, Monsieur would arrive with bags of bread—the long French baguettes—and tuna or sardines, sometimes potatoes too. He would stay until every child had eaten.
Some of the kids were so despondent, they didn’t want to eat. Those children he used to take on his lap, tell them a story, sing to them, and feed them by hand. He made sure everybody was fed. With some of the kids, he’d sit next to them on the floor and cajole them to eat, even feeding them with a spoon, if need be. He was like a father to these sad little children.
He knew every child by name, even though we didn’t know his. We loved him and looked forward to his coming. I remember there was a kid who was jealous. He also wanted to sit on Monsieur’s lap and hear songs and stories. So he pretended not to eat, in order to get his attention.
Monsieur came back day after day for several weeks. And I would say that many of the children who lived in the orphanage at that time owe their lives to him. If not for him, I, for one, wouldn’t be here.
Eventually the war ended, and I was reunited with my family. We left Europe and began our lives anew. In 1957, I came to live in New York, and that’s when my uncle suggested that I meet the Lubavitcher Rebbe. Of course, I agreed, and scheduled with the Rebbe’s secretary a time for an audience.
At the appointed date, I came to the Chabad Headquarters at 770 Eastern Parkway and sat down to wait. I read some Psalms and watched the parade of men and women from all walks of life who had come to see the Rebbe. Finally, I was told it was my turn, and I walked into the Rebbe’s office.
He was smiling, and immediately greeted me: “Dos iz Dovidele!—It’s Dovidele!”
I thought, “How does he know my name?” And then I nearly fainted. I was looking at Monsieur. The Rebbe was Monsieur! And he had recognized me before I had recognized him. It was unbelievable.
Later on I learned how he came to be in Marseille. He and Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka were trying to escape Nazi Europe. In order to arrange the necessary documents, he was travelling back and forth between Nice and Marseille. He must have found out about the orphanage and the plight of us poor children, and he came to our rescue.
Rabbi Neuman concluded, “What is remarkable to me is that a scholar of such magnitude, like the Rebbe, would busy himself with delivering bags of food and personally feeding small orphans. He never forgot that saving lives is of primary concern. And I shall forever be grateful that he saved mine, and because of him, I, thank G-d, have many children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren.”
Let us make a resolution to add an additional mitzvah and good deed, especially in the mitzvah of, “Love your fellow as yourself,” and may we hasten the redemption speedily in our days.
SHABBAT SHALOM
Montreal candle lighting time: 4:29 / Shabbat ends: 5:36
Thursday, Shevat 8, 5781 / January 21, 2021
B"H
Thursday, Shevat 8, 5781 / January 21, 2021
In this week’s Parsha, Bo, which will be reading this Shabbat, we find the story of the Exodus from Egypt.
The Torah tells us that 600,000 men from age 20 and up left Egypt at the time of the Exodus. In addition, there were women and children. Thus, a few million people left Egypt at the time of the Exodus.
The Parsha begins with the last three plagues which G-d brought upon the Egyptians; the plague of locust, darkness and the death of the first-born.
The Torah describes the plague of darkness as follows, “There was a thick darkness in all the land of Egypt for three days. One did not see his own brother… But to all children of Israel there was light in their dwelling places.”
Q. Why the expression, “one did not see his own brother,” to describe the plague ofdarkness?
A.We are all children of G-d, thus we are all brothers and sisters. This is why many times the Torah uses the term “your brother,” when dealing with mitzvot between one person and another.
The stories in the Torah are lessons for all generations. With the words, “One did not see his own brother,” the Torah teaches us a very important lesson. When one doesn't see the needs of his brother, his family member, the needs of another human being, that too is an affliction of the plague of darkness.
Hillel the Elder says, “The mitzvah of, ‘Love your fellow as yourself,’ is the basis for the entire Torah.”
A Jew emigrated to the U.S. from a small town in Poland and became very wealthy. In the beginning he would still send some money to his family back home in Poland, but in time he became so involved in his business dealings that he completely forgot about his poor family in Poland.
Years later his brother also immigrated to the U.S. He went to see his brother for help, but the rich man denied that he had a brother. The newcomer was sure it was his brother. No matter how much he tried, the rich man said that he had no brother and told him to leave.
Finally, he decided to try one more time. When the rich man opened the door his brother said to him, “I came to inform you that you better write a will as soon as possible!”
“How dare you say that?” exclaimed the rich man. “I just had my yearly checkup and the doctor told me I am in excellent health!”
“I may not be a doctor,” said the brother, “But back home in our little village when one couldn’t recognize his own brother, we knew that he was extremely sick and his days were numbered...”
The Torah says, “To all children of Israel there was light in their dwelling places.” Indeed, we have to make sure that we see and feel for those in need and do our utmost to help them.
HAVE A VERY GOOD, HAPPY, HEALTHY AND SUCCESSFUL DAY
Tuesday, Shevat 6, 5781 / January 19, 2021
B"H
Tuesday, Shevat 6, 5781 / January 19, 2021
In this week’s Parsha, Bo, we read about the last three plagues; locust, darkness, death of the first born, which G-d brought upon the Egyptians. Then the Parsha tells about the Exodus of the Jewish people from their many years of enslavement in Egypt.
Before bringing upon the Egyptians the final plague, G-d told Moshe, "I request that you speak to the people [of Israel] and tell them to borrow from their [Egyptian]neighbors silver and gold ornaments and clothes." The Torah continues, "And the children of Israel did as Moshe told them and they borrowed of the Egyptians jewels of silver and jewels of gold. And G-d gave the people favor in the eyes of the Egyptians and they lent them" (Exodus 12:35-36).
Q. The expression the Torah uses is "V'yishalu" - "they shall borrow." Why did G-d want them to take it as a loan? The Egyptians would have given it to them as a gift for, as the plague of the first-born was raging throughout Egypt, the Egyptians were anxious that the Jewish people leave as fast as possible.
A. By telling them to "borrow" the gold and silver, G-d wanted to teach them that one must consider wealth as a loan from G-d. Therefore, it must be used properly and a percentage given to charity. For, if it is not used as G-d intended, He may at any time take it back, for it is with us only on loan!
A Jew once became rich and his lifestyle changed. Previously, he gave charity, cared for others and helped them as much as he could. Now he had become hard-hearted and miserly. He cared only for himself and never had time for others.
One day, he was visited by his rabbi who had taught him in his youth. The rich man showed off his beautiful home and boasted to the rabbi about his wealth. Perceiving the change in his former student, the rabbi called him to the window. Pointing to the outside, the rabbi asked, "What do you see?"
"I see poor people passing to and fro trying to earn a living," he replied. Walking over to a large mirror the rabbi asked the rich man to look in. "Now what do you see?"
"Myself, of course."
"I don't understand," said the rabbi. "Both the window and the mirror are made of glass. Yet looking through the window, you saw poor people outside but when you look at the mirror, you see only yourself!"
"The reason is simple!" said the rich man. "The mirror has a silver coating which prevents you from seeing through. However, the window has no silver coating, so you can see through."
"Exactly!" the rabbi nodded. "It seems that when the silver gets in the way then all you see is yourself! Maybe you'd be better off without the silver?" The rich man now got the message. He promised to improve his ways and he began giving charity as before.
HAVE A VERY GOOD, HAPPY, HEALTHY AND SUCCESSFUL DAY
Monday, Shevat 5, 5781 / January 18, 2021
B"H
Monday, Shevat 5, 5781 / January 18, 2021
In this week’s Parsha, Bo, we will read about the Exodus from Egypt. It took about a year from the time Moshe first approached Paharoh to demand to let the Jewish people go until he actually let them leave. It also took Ten Plagues to convince Pharaoh that it was in his best interest to let them go.
Even when Pharaoh already agreed to let them go, he insisted that the young children stay behind. In the beginning of the Parsha, the Torah tells us that Moshe and Aaron came to Pharaoh and delivered G-d's message, "How long will you refuse to humble yourself before Me? Let My people go!"
Pharaoh said to Moshe and Aaron, "Go, serve the L-rd your G-d; but tell me who will be going?" Moshe replied, "With our young and with our old we will go, with our sons and with our daughters."
Pharaoh angrily replied, "Not so; only the men can go and serve the L-rd." But when Moshe insisted that the young will also have to come, they were "driven out from Pharaoh's presence." It took three more plagues, Locust, Darkness and the Plague of the First Born, before Pharaon let them go.
Here we see the importance the Torah places on our youth. Throughout the Torah we find how important it is to educate our children from a very young age. Children are our assurance of Jewish continuity.
The importance of teaching children was again emphasized at the Giving of the Torah. The Midrash relates that G-d agreed to give the Torah to the Jewish people only after they firmly committed to educate their children and teach them Torah. According to Halacha (Torah law), as soon as a child begins to speak, we must teach them to recite words of Torah.
Q. Pharaoh only objected to the young going to serve G-d. Therefore, Moshe should have answered, "with our young we will go." Why did Moshe reply, "With our young and with our old we will go?"
A. Rabbi Elimelech of Lizensk says that with these words, Moshe explains to Pharaoh the importance of taking the children to serve G-d.
If our young will serve G-d, we will also have our old serving G-d. But if we don't concentrate on our youth, we will eventually not have any older people either. This is why he told Pharaoh, "With our young and with our old we will go.”King Solomon says in Proverbs,“Educate the young according to their level, for then even when they become old they will not turn from it.”
The importance of educating our youth in teachings of the Torah is seen from the following Jewish law: “One may not interrupt the study of school children even for the construction of the Holy Temple.”
The Talmud also says, “A city that has no school in which children learn Torah will not endure.”
HAVE A VERY GOOD, HAPPY, HEALTHY AND SUCCESSFUL DAY
In memory of Jeno Zoldan Z"L – Yitzchak Yehuda ben Aaron (Yosef) –
now gone for 30 years, and your memory, kindness and love is still felt.
by your family.
Andre, Esther, Zachary, Benjamin, Jonah.
May the Neshamah have an Aliyah.
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