Farbrengen Gimmel Tammuz 5763, Kfar Chabad

00:08 Speaker 1 L’chaim, l’chaim. L’chaim. We chassidim have gathered here to farbreng together for Gimmel Tammuz. This is the day when each of us strengthens our hiskashrus, tries and makes an effort to strengthen our connection to the Rebbe, our dedication to the Rebbe’s instructions—all of them, and especially the last instruction we heard from the Rebbe in the final years when we heard him: that our task is to bring Moshiach in actual reality by studying matters of Geulah and Moshiach, and by instilling the awareness that Moshiach is about to come. And so that we can truly carry out the Rebbe’s instructions, it is fitting on this day to follow the instruction the Rebbe gave concerning the previous Rebbe: to reflect—as the Rebbe puts it in his letter—on how the Rebbe loves all of Israel and loves every Jew. The treasure really is right beneath our own home. When the people organizing the farbrengen thought about whom to bring to farbreng on Gimmel Tammuz, who would be suitable, they realized that the treasure was right beneath their own home. Here in Kfar Chabad there are dozens of Jews with personal stories of their own with the Rebbe. Those stories, and the things each of us has—if each person here speaks and tells the other chassidim about the Rebbe—can strengthen our hiskashrus to the Rebbe, strengthen our dedication to carrying out the Rebbe’s instructions, and strengthen the bond between chassidim and the Rebbe. I’d like to invite one of Kfar Chabad’s respected residents, whom everyone knows, to begin: Rabbi Yaakov, Rabbi Yaakov Edri, who will share with us... I don’t need to introduce him. In any case, the main thing is action: may everything said here tonight inspire each of us to dedicate ourselves more fully, to carry out the Rebbe’s instructions and connect more deeply to the Rebbe. And together we will succeed in bringing about, in actual reality, the Rebbe’s central aspiration: bringing Moshiach in actual reality. Rabbi Yaakov Edri.

03:07 Speaker 2 Can I stand, perhaps?

03:17 Speaker 1 Do you need something?

03:21 Speaker 2 No, no, it’s hard for me.

03:23 Speaker 1 L’chaim.

03:23 Speaker 2 No, I can’t. I’m just doing forty days.

03:30 Speaker 1 L’chaim, l’chaim!

03:36 Speaker 2 I think that, alongside all this, which of us can describe the greatness of our Rebbe, who is still present even more than during his lifetime, as it says in Tanya? But the fact that this time they’ve focused on personal stories can reveal to all of us what the Rebbe invested in each person or in his family. When you add every coin to a great sum, you can discover a whole picture we hadn’t known about. However much we thought we knew, in any case, no one can know or grasp it all. But that’s just something we say. Often, as another year passes and then another, and you grow older, you see how much you didn’t know—because you didn’t know where the Rebbe had invested his efforts, where he had planted seeds. We don’t know. So when each person’s personal side is joined by another’s and another’s—well, let’s hear it. I could have presented these things as dry points, but I think they would lose their flavor. So I thought I should give a somewhat fuller picture. Of course, I’ll be very brief about things that don’t concern what the Rebbe did, but I’m telling them for the sake of the picture. With Hashem’s kindness, the family arrived in Eretz Yisroel a few days before Shavuos 5715. My mother, a”h, arrived with the children. My father, a”h, had passed away about two years earlier. In fact, he was the one who brought about the family’s immigration. He truly gave his soul for it, but did not live to see it. Now, originally the family was supposed to come in the way that was customary then. The Agency and the Zionists, as they were called, took the younger children, the teenagers—my brother Moshe and I were about... I was fourteen and a bit, Moishe was thirteen—and took the children away. They sent them with Youth Aliyah to places where they ate non-kosher food. That’s what happened to our friends from the city,

06:16 Speaker 2 and the adults were sent separately. With us, with our family, they didn’t manage it. We actually very much wanted to go, because we didn’t know what awaited us. Everyone was innocent; everyone thought: the Holy Land, Avraham Avinu, the prophets and everything—so what could be wrong? We didn’t imagine what was in store, and it was a terrible danger to our spiritual lives, because all those who went were lost to us. All the friends I knew. As we know, terrible things went on there, things people don’t bring up today. The first thing they did was put them into mixed showers. In any case, it didn’t happen. They didn’t succeed in sending the younger brothers—me and Moishe—alone; instead, we came with the family. That was one miracle. The second thing: we arrived at the Ashkelon transit camp. From there, who knows whom you might meet? We went out into the city, but the emissary from Heaven, through the leader of the generation, was Rabbi Leibov, a”h. So this was a double act of Divine Providence. First, the family came as one unit. As the saying goes, “our wives, our little ones, and our elders.” That was tremendous, a great miracle that’s hard to describe. If we had, G-d forbid, come alone with Youth Aliyah and gone to a Hashomer Hatzair kibbutz or any of the other places known at the time, what would have happened was certain. We were young children—what could have come of it afterward? The second miracle: we went out into the city, and the first person we met after leaving the transit camp was Rabbi Leibov. All right, I’ll be brief about that because it isn’t the subject. We arrived, and with Hashem’s kindness he got us settled. The family received a home in Kiryat Oved[?], and the children were placed in yeshiva. So we were learning, my brother and I. Now I’m getting to it. I remember some of the teachers we had then; the older people here will know them. Rabbi Yaakov Yemini, a Jew from Bnei Brak, and another one I hadn’t heard anything about for many years, decades: Yosef Dorani. Luzik, can you hear me? Do you know that name?

08:32 Speaker 2 Yosef Dorani[?]? No. He was Yemenite too, like Yaakov Yemini. Now I’ll tell you why I’m mentioning their names. We studied in a classroom in the orchard. You know, Tomchei Temimim in those days was spread across several spots: the train station, the orchard. Within the orchard there were different spots. No, that’s... those are things for another time. Again, it isn’t the subject now. What things went on—where they learned, where they farbrenged, what farbrengens there were, what happened on Thursday nights. You would find dozens of bochurim by the trees learning Chassidus until morning. There were a few kabbalists who also recited Tikkun Chatzos. I, your humble servant, was a little involved in that too. And with Shimon Shehar[?], for those who know, we had... In short, there was a class, and we had a classmate whose name I don’t remember. I think it was Avraham, perhaps from Beit She’an, but I can’t be sure of that either. I remember thinking he was from Beit She’an or Hadera, but I think Beit She’an. Avraham or Avi. His father was very ill, and the teacher wrote a letter to the Rebbe asking for a complete recovery. Again, I don’t remember whether it was Yaakov Yemini or Yosef Dorani[?]. That I don’t remember. In short, he wrote a letter, perhaps on behalf of the class as its teacher, and the boy’s father was very ill. Three weeks, four weeks, I think, went by without any reply. Perhaps there was a phone call to the secretariat to ask, but nothing. Then one day word came that the father had passed away. Let’s say it was in the morning; we heard before noon. The children in the class knew, but the boy—his son—the boy didn’t know yet. And in the afternoon a letter arrived, a letter from the United States, from the Rebbe. It was addressed to the teacher, and in it the Rebbe offered him condolences on the father’s passing, and explained how to tell the child, how to comfort him and how to calm him. In those days, mail took—I don’t remember—five days, six days. It wasn’t... even today it isn’t

10:53 Speaker 2 Then one morning we hear that he has passed away. The family called from Beit She’an to let us know and to send for his son—and a letter arrives that very day. That means it had been sent several days earlier, and the Rebbe was asking that he be comforted. That’s one thing. Now, in those days, especially in the younger division of the yeshiva, we so wanted what we saw among the older boys in the senior division, who had the privilege of sitting with Reb Shlomo Chaim. We envied them so much. Who got us interested in it? Our counselor. In those days our counselor was Reb Moshe Aharon Teichman, may he live long. He would always give us a little summary of Reb Shlomo Chaim’s farbrengens. Now, what did you want to ask? At that time I was very much searching for real Chassidus, avodah, davening at length, all these things, and a lot of questions troubled me. When I first came to the yeshiva, I switched to the Chabad nusach without asking any questions. After a while—a year or two—I thought, maybe I hadn’t done the right thing? I wrote to the Rebbe, and received this well-known answer, which was publicized in those days. My question was really twofold: Was it right that I had changed my nusach? And second, if it was right, should I now follow Chabad practice for Selichos in Elul as well, or get up for Selichos from the first of Elul? There was also the question of our Shabbos table. Here, look: the days of Selichos, 5719. It was 5719. “To the young man Yaakov, may he live: Greetings and blessings. His pan was received. As the new year approaches for all Israel for good and blessing, I hereby extend my blessing for a good inscription and sealing for a good, sweet year, materially and spiritually, and for success in Torah study and fear of Heaven.” And the signature is in the Rebbe’s holy hand—his actual signature. In the margin it says: “It is understood that it is very right for him to daven according to the Chabad nusach. According to chassidic tradition, the Alter Rebbe selected his nusach from sixty

13:33 Speaker 2 siddurim. And it is explained in Magen Avraham elsewhere that one should not change from it: one may change from Nusach Ashkenaz to ordinary Nusach Sefard, and from Nusach Sefard to Nusach HaAri, which is the Chabad nusach, but not the reverse.” Now for my second question: “This has no bearing on his custom of getting up for Selichos throughout the month of Elul; he should continue doing so.” Do you understand? That’s the Rebbe. Yes, he’s saying that since our family followed the Sephardi custom and got up for Selichos, I should continue. The family knows that my nusach is entirely Chabad, but at the Shabbos table, when it comes to zemiros and piyutim—Azamer Bishvachin, Bar Yochai—that’s our custom. I’m very particular about it, just as my father, a”h, was. Yes. I made notes for myself here from the Rebbe. Moving on. Now, here’s something else that I think is really remarkable. I have a lira here, if you remember the lira from those days. Can you see the lira? This is very important: it’s Chanukah gelt from the Rebbe, from 5719. If I’m not mistaken—the older people here might remember—I think Rabbi Avraham Pariz used to come, right? I don’t remember. Good, he confirms it; I wasn’t sure. Rabbi Avraham Pariz, z”l, would always come, and Reb Shlomo Chaim, a”h, would sit beside him, and they would distribute Chanukah gelt. With your permission, let me remind you of Reb Shlomo Chaim’s introduction. For me, Reb Shlomo Chaim was the conduit. Simply that. I’ll tell you something Reb Shlomo Chaim once said to Berke Wolf, a”h, z”l. Berke Wolf had been a bit mischievous as a bochur, so Reb Shlomo Chaim once told him, “You can be connected to me without being connected to the Rebbe, but you cannot be connected to the Rebbe except through me.” That’s how it was. And what that means in Chassidus should be understood: the mashpia is the conduit between the Rebbe and us. Now

15:48 Speaker 2 I remember the introduction when Rabbi Avraham Pariz came with the banknotes, before distributing them. Reb Shlomo Chaim said a few words of Torah. What did he say? “In the beginning, G-d created the heavens and the earth”—because, as is known, the world was created for the sake of the Torah and for the sake of the Jewish people. So the entire world exists through the Jewish people, in their merit. And how do the Jewish people exist? Through the leader of the generation, who is the Rebbe. And how does the leader of the generation forge his connection with us? Through the Chanukah gelt he sends us. Clear? That was the introduction. Then he distributed the Chanukah gelt. Yes. The next point. You should know this. Boruch Hashem, I say that I was privileged—it’s an enormous privilege, I think—that for all the children who were born, for all my sons’ bar mitzvahs, and of course before that for my wedding, I received full letters from the Rebbe. Not from the secretary or anything like that: actual, complete letters. I won’t weary you with all of them. I could show you one of the letters—when my eldest son Meni was born, Shlomo Chaim, the daughters. And concerning daughters, as you know, here’s a letter about the birth of one of my daughters. Just a second. The eldest. [unclear] Apparently I was already a teacher then. “In response to his notification that a daughter was born to them, mazal tov: May it be Hashem’s will that he and his wife, may she live, raise her to Torah and good deeds, amid abundance. It is known from the holy Rebbe [unclear] that our custom is to say, also upon the birth of a daughter, ‘to Torah, to the chuppah, and to good deeds,’ in accordance with the teaching in Berachos 17a: ‘Through what do women merit? Through bringing their sons to study,’ and so on, ‘and having their husbands study,’ and so on, ‘and waiting for them.’ Mazal tov.” A full signature—not the secretary’s, but the Rebbe’s own. “Surely he keeps up the three daily study portions applicable to everyone—Chumash, Tehillim and Tanya—as is well known. The pan in his letter will be read at an auspicious time at the Ohel.” And sometimes there was

18:14 Speaker 2 also a letter when I wrote to the Rebbe because I was a little worried, even during the pregnancy. The Rebbe wished us a birth at an auspicious time, healthy, enduring offspring, and so on. Yes. Now, there’s another very interesting letter I couldn’t find. I’ve gathered here almost all the letters I could find; there are a few I still don’t have. For example, as I told you earlier, in those days we tried very hard in our avodah. I really wanted to daven at length, but intrusive thoughts would come, and it bothered me so much. It wasn’t a shortage of money or anything else—that was what bothered me: intrusive thoughts. You want to daven; you want to take pleasure in it. Reb Shlomo Chaim would often—we used to sneak away after our own farbrengen in the younger division ended and go to his farbrengen. As Yankel Teichman would say, “Now I’m going to farbreng with my teacher.” We’d go along with him, and he would say that he was acquiring life for his soul. But then you start davening, and intrusive thoughts come. You hear Reb Shlomo Chaim saying, “Come into the ark.” You understand? “Come into the ark,” and then you’re saved from the waters of the flood. Well, it wasn’t so simple. So I wrote to the Rebbe, and the Rebbe wrote back—

19:36 Speaker 3 The previous Rebbe?

19:37 Speaker 2 Yes.

19:37 Speaker 3 What year was that already?

19:39 Speaker 2 Around 5719, 5720. A very, very long time ago. Yes. The Rebbe wrote me some advice and said, “In a case like this, he should approach his mashpia, explain and lay out everything that is troubling him, and the mashpia will set him on the right course.” I have two letters like that. I couldn’t find them; I simply know they’re there. And that’s very interesting. Yes. Later, too, when I had to leave the yeshiva and go to work as a teacher in Kiryat Gat, I also received a letter from the Rebbe, boruch Hashem. Back then, everything went through the Rebbe—wishes for success, for things to happen at an auspicious time, and so on. That includes our youngest daughter, who is ten and a bit now. We were privileged because the timing was just right, though that letter apparently came through the secretariat or something. Now there’s another wonder that concerns us directly. The first one I mentioned concerned a friend; this one concerns where we lived. It’s no secret that I always had a criticism—how can I put it? Why? Look, the Rebbe speaks so much about the whole Land of Israel and everything. So why stay in Kfar Chabad and call out for the whole Land of Israel? I always really wanted to go and be part of a settlement. Look, it wasn’t such a bold thing to do. I thought about Hashmonaim. There were plots in Hashmonaim; I registered there and bought a plot. There were problems all the time, disputes among the people moving in, and I spent literally dozens of hours trying to make peace between the Belz chassidim, the Yemenites and others associated with Rabbi Baadani. Dozens of hours went into it, and in the end it didn’t work out; they didn’t start building. I saw the difficulties. I wrote to the Rebbe. Maybe it was wrong of me even to consider it, yes? I wrote to the Rebbe asking for a blessing and advice: was it right to leave Kfar Chabad and move there? I wrote nothing else. Gentlemen, come and see—this is astonishing. What did the Rebbe answer me? Where... just a moment.

22:18 Speaker 2 29 Shvat. That’s not in... That’s not—I just wrote it down. The answer came by phone, when Rabbi Groner called me at home. He said, “Take a pencil and write down the Rebbe’s answer.” Ah, 29 Shvat 5745, eleven at night. The answer of the Rebbe, conveyed by Rabbi Leibel Groner over the phone. I wrote down the substance of it for myself. Concerning where to live, and these were his words. That is, Rabbi Groner was relaying it. Now this is the Rebbe’s answer, his own words: “As his wife, may she live, the mistress of the home, wishes. I will mention it at the Ohel.” I hadn’t told him—how did the Rebbe bring that in? I hadn’t mentioned what my wife wanted or didn’t want. Not at all. I mean, I wrote that my wife agreed; there was no problem, she wasn’t objecting. But I knew she would have liked to stay in Kfar Chabad. Still, she said, “If you want to go, I’m with you.” No problem at all. The Rebbe said, “As his wife, may she live, wishes.” That’s something. I didn’t write that to the Rebbe, I’m telling you, I didn’t. Now look what happened. I’m a stubborn person, and there were—I don’t know what happened or how I did such a thing, but things went on, and there were problems with living here in the village. I lived in the housing development here. Don’t forget, I was here; I had a hand in the establishment of this shul, together with Rabbi Butman, of blessed memory. And... then there was another answer, as though I was nagging a little. On, or for, Tuesday, 5 Menachem Av. 5 Menachem Av 5745. That is, the same year, a few months later. I don’t know what happened. The answer had arrived and certainly obliged me, but I don’t know why it didn’t work out, because I saw that it wasn’t possible. The family was growing. We have, bli ayin hara, eleven children, and here, the Kaufmans’ house—it was impossible.

24:35 Speaker 2 No, I couldn’t. It was easier there financially and in other ways, and the idea of living beyond the Green Line also appealed to me very much. So the answer from [unclear] came through Reb Lipgon [unclear], this time not to my home but through Reb Shlomo Segal of Afula. In other words, Segal of Afula received the answer by phone and was asked to pass it on to me. Apparently he had other questions too, so he was given a whole batch of answers. Now look at the Rebbe’s wording: “As before, as before: as his wife, may she live, the mistress of the home, wishes. I will mention it at the Ohel. And likewise in the future.” In other words, don’t ask again. “And likewise in the future.” Take that as a general rule. Do you understand what’s happening here? The Rebbe, with all his patience—how do they say it? “With the stubborn, You act stubbornly.” So, with all that patience, he gives you the way forward. “And likewise in the future.” If questions come up again, that’s the way. Ah, I wrote down seven points here. I want to see whether I’ve spoken about all of them. Ah, yes, yes, yes.

26:10 Speaker 4 All right.

26:12 Speaker 2 L’chaim, l’chaim. Gentlemen, if I may, I’ll finish this point on a small personal note. I think that for all of us—I mean all of Anash, everyone connected to the Rebbe, of both kinds or however many kinds there are—you could say that both sides are weeping. Both sides are weeping. What, are those called “Moshiachists” really celebrating? Is this truly what they want? Is this what we asked for? And certainly we aren’t celebrating either, right? That’s not the reality. It says, “As in the days of your going out from the land of Egypt, I will show him wonders.” Right? In other words, if you want to know what the future Geulah will be like, look at the redemption from Egypt. On the other hand, it says explicitly that the future Geulah will be very different from the redemption from Egypt. On the one hand, it says, “As in the days of your going out from the land of Egypt, I will show him wonders,” implying a resemblance. On the other hand, it explicitly says this Geulah will be different. Just take the well-known verse, “You will not go out in haste, for Hashem goes before you.” At the redemption from Egypt, “the people fled”; “you shall eat it in haste”; “your staffs in your hands.” That’s an enormous difference. The future Geulah will not be followed by exile. That redemption was followed by exile, though it was an immense redemption. I just noticed, gentlemen—and this is simply a personal thought—that regarding the redemption from Egypt, what does it say? An explicit verse. What could be clearer? “Know for certain that your descendants will be strangers in a land not theirs, and they will enslave and afflict them for four hundred years.” Now, gentlemen, who was the genius capable of calculating those four hundred years before they left Egypt? I’d like to see anyone, from the greatest sages of Israel to the simplest people, tell me how to do that calculation. Tell me, were they really in Egypt for four hundred years? You know it was only two hundred and ten years. And Rashi says that even those two hundred and ten years were not all years of enslavement. The enslavement began after the passing of

28:31 Speaker 2 Levi, who lived longer than all the others. It was something like eighty years, and it was worse during the last forty years or so, and worse still when Moshe Rabbeinu came to redeem them: “darkness that could be felt.” In other words, that’s hindsight. What do I mean? On the one hand, Hakadosh Boruch Hu gave you the appointed time: four hundred years. Well, go ahead and calculate when the Exodus will be. Yet no one, great or small, could make that calculation. Who would have thought to count from the birth of Yitzchak? Really—why do we say it now? Because what kind of wisdom does it take now? We count four hundred years, and it began with his birth. It didn’t begin with the covenant between the parts; it didn’t begin when Yaakov went down to Charan. It began with Yitzchak’s birth. But who could have said that beforehand? Someone claiming, “I know everything,” wouldn’t be honest. How does the saying go? The Master of the house keeps it all to Himself. You can always say that the Rambam said, “May the breath of those who calculate the end expire.” He too gave dates for the end, but no one can pinpoint it and guarantee it. There is a Master of the house who can do anything, who exists and brings all other beings into existence. Just as a personal thought, I would say that with the future Geulah we await, the situation is exactly the reverse. The enslavement in Egypt was supposed to last four hundred years; it lasted two hundred and ten, almost half, even less than half. As for the future Geulah we await, all the great sages have said that we have already served far too long. The enslavement has been very great, almost twice as long; the Geulah should have come long ago. Since when? People have been expecting Moshiach for two thousand years already. This didn’t begin today. And still we cannot put our finger on it and say, “Today is the day.” So I suggest that no one—that we must not say tomorrow, yesterday,

30:42 Speaker 2 the day before yesterday, or the day after tomorrow. We mustn’t say that. We need to fulfill the instruction the Rebbe gave us: make the necessary preparations, do what depends on us, and cry out. Gentlemen, crying out doesn’t have to take the form of a chillul Hashem. We daven Shemoneh Esrei every day. It’s permissible to cry during Shemoneh Esrei: “For Your salvation we have hoped all day”; “May You speedily cause the offspring of David Your servant to flourish.” Let everyone ask with all his heart, with tears, however he can, and aloud, with all his [unclear] and the means to set things right. May it be Hashem’s will that He send our righteous Moshiach speedily in our days, amen and amen.

31:35 Speaker 5 Arise, Hashem our G-d, arise, answer [unclear]. Arise, arise, arise, arise, arise and answer. Arise, Hashem. Arise, arise, arise, arise, arise and answer. Arise, Hashem.

32:04 Speaker 2 He will yet restore [unclear].

32:06 Speaker 5 The praise of our G-d.

33:05 Speaker 6 Many thanks to Rabbi Yaakov Deri for sharing with us how, right from the beginning, as soon as they arrived in the country, the Rebbe sent a shliach through whom they had the privilege of drawing closer and were saved from falling into the hands of those who wanted to tear them away from Yiddishkeit. And afterward, throughout their lives—the whole household, where to live, every community, every bar mitzvah, everything. And it goes without saying that even today, the shepherd has not abandoned the flock in his care. Even today, the Rebbe guides each person as to where to live and where to make a home, and—

00:06 Speaker 1 Rabbi Michael will share with us too, strengthen us—and speak with us more about our connection to the Rebbe today. Rabbi Michael, first, l’chaim. L’chaim, l’chaim.

00:52 Speaker 2 First of all, I wanted to say that whoever said I’m one of the mashpi’im here was mistaken. I object to that; it isn’t true. Once, at a farbrengen, the Rebbe said: When a Jew is walking down the street and someone says “Sholom aleichem” to him, he immediately answers, “Aleichem sholom.” Really, you might say, he should answer “Sholom aleichem” too. But the Rebbe said that the immediate response has to be the opposite of what you’d expect. The point is, today I see people telling stories. Among chassidim, they used to say that stories are for teachers and melamdim. At a chassidishe farbrengen, you bring a story as an example of what you’re talking about, but stories aren’t the foundation or the main point of a chassidishe farbrengen. Chassidim used to say that a chassidishe farbrengen is like a bathhouse. The point of a bathhouse is to come out clean. But there are places a person can’t reach on his own, so he asks someone else—or even without being asked, the other person gives him a scrub. How do you say that in Hebrew?

02:43 Speaker 3 Scrubs him.

02:46 Speaker 2 Sometimes it hurts a little, but everyone comes out happy and clean. That, really, is the point of a chassidishe farbrengen. Of course, it has to be done nicely and gently, so it doesn’t hurt. They say that in Nevel there were great chassidim, and they had plenty of arguments—not, G-d forbid, arguments that left people angry afterward. But when they took mashke, they would give each other a piece of their mind, and it could hurt. Eventually the Rebbe wrote a letter to Nevel: “It’s time for the Nevel chassidim to trim their fingernails.” After they received a letter like that, they spoke quietly, diplomatically, gently—very nicely indeed. Some time later, they received another letter from the Rebbe: “I can’t bear the way the Nevel householders [unclear] their bellies into one another.”

04:14 Speaker 3 Say it in Hebrew.

04:17 Speaker 2 Well, I can’t say it in Hebrew. So, a translation. Yes, yes. In any case, especially now, when we’re in holy days—a day as holy as today, Gimmel Tammuz, which began as a day of Geulah. What does that have to do with the Frierdiker Rebbe? And Gimmel Tammuz is a day connected with the Rebbe. The fact that we’re here together on a day like this means, you could say, that we’re all now in yechidus with the Rebbe. After all, we came here to connect with the Rebbe more and more. So this is our yechidus with the Rebbe. I don’t remember what year it was. I was standing in Gan Eden Hatachton, waiting to go into yechidus. It was already about two-thirty in the morning, and, like everyone else, I had a Tehillim in my hand. Suddenly Reb Asher Sassonkin came up to me. Reb Asher Sassonkin was a little stooped and wore a Russian cap, a sort of peaked cap that came almost down to his eyes. The cap had originally been gray and white, but by then it looked black to us. He beckoned me with his finger, calling me out of Gan Eden Hatachton to speak with him outside. He said to me, “Listen, listen, Chaim, listen. You’re about to go into yechidus with the Rebbe. You should know that the Rebbe is a patron.” In Russian, patron means a light socket. A light socket has an infinite supply of power. But the light you get depends on the bulb you put into it. Put in a hundred-watt bulb and you get a hundred watts of light; put in a thousand-watt bulb and you get a thousand. So what you receive from the Rebbe in yechidus—apart from what he gives of himself—also depends on you, on how you prepare yourself for the Rebbe. I asked him, “What do you mean, prepare myself to go into yechidus with the Rebbe?” He said to me, “Du bist in gantsn nishto”—you’re not there at all. “[unclear].” Those were the only words he said to me. When I went in to the Rebbe, those words

08:07 Speaker 2 he had said were before my eyes. I went in holding my note in my hand, and I hadn’t even handed it to the Rebbe. I was just holding it up like this. The Rebbe took the note from me, looked at it, and said, “Du shreibst do—you write here that Hakadosh Boruch Hu should give you every blessing. What do you mean? What does ‘every blessing’ mean? On Yom Kippur we say Al Chet; we don’t just say, ‘Forgive me for all my sins.’ We list each one separately. And in Avinu Malkeinu, we spell out every request, one by one. What do you mean? You’ve written ‘everything I need.’ So what do you need?” And the Rebbe began telling me what I needed, writing on my letter as he went. “And you need this?” Fine—he wrote it down. “You want that?” He wrote it down. He made a detailed list of what I needed. So today, right now, we are in yechidus with the Rebbe. Each of us needs to reflect, to see the Rebbe and connect with the Rebbe. But we also need to be in the bathhouse, not be content with stories alone. Of course, stories are something great and holy. The Rebbe once said that the Frierdiker Rebbe had said: In general, among chassidim, the way to connect with the Rebbe is to study Chassidus. But today is a time when one must also show mofsim, and today people are stirred somewhat only through mofsim. So, since everyone is telling stories, I’ll tell a story too. Through a story, we really do connect more; it’s something closer to us. It is written of Moshe Rabbeinu that he was an “ish Elokim,” a man of G-d. The word “Elokim” is also used for angels. Sometimes it says “Elokim,” and it actually means an angel. Why call an angel “Elokim”? Because it has no independent existence. It is such a holy creation that it has no

11:55 Speaker 2 existence of its own. There is only Elokim there—only the will and existence of Elokim. So an angel is called “Elokim.” Moshe Rabbeinu is called “ish Elokim.” Moshe Rabbeinu—and this is really

12:15 Speaker 4 from the Rebbe’s sichos—what the Rebbe says is that Moshe Rabbeinu is called “ish Elokim” because there was actual G-dliness in Moshe Rabbeinu. Actual G-dliness had to be enclothed in Moshe Rabbeinu’s body. So an angel isn’t considered a created being at all. Even though it is a created being, it is called “Elokim.” Moshe Rabbeinu is not a created being; he is actual G-dliness. And so the Rebbe is actual G-dliness. Every time we tell a story about the Rebbe, we see more tangibly that the Rebbe is actual G-dliness. One of the stories I wanted to tell is something in which I saw actual G-dliness with my own eyes. In 5733, the Rebbe spoke a great deal about everyone buying a house in Crown Heights. At the time, buying a house was out of the question for me. I was up to my ears in debt—I was rich in debts. To buy a house, you need money. But my wife said, “If the Rebbe says to buy a house, Hashem will help. We mustn’t go by our own reasoning. We have to buy a house.” So we looked until we found a house on Montgomery Street. It was a big house, very badly neglected. An Argentinian woman who no longer lived there had finally decided to sell it. We looked at it and decided that, even though it was neglected, we would fix it up and have a big, beautiful home. The asking price was thirty-five thousand dollars. But that was a lot of money then. I calculated that I could get twenty-seven thousand dollars from the bank, and I would need another ten thousand dollars for the down payment, plus ten dollars for a lawyer. I didn’t know where I’d get it, but I had some sort of calculation. I hired a lawyer, as was customary, and we signed a contract with this woman. Under American law, if you sign a contract for a house and don’t get a mortgage from the bank within a month, the seller can cancel the contract. We signed the contract, and there was—everyone used him then. A lawyer

15:36 Speaker 4 Listman, and he—he submitted the paperwork to the bank. An appraiser came to look at the house. He looked here and there and said, “What kind of house is this? Neglected, falling apart. She wants thirty-five thousand dollars for it? It isn’t worth a penny. What kind of mortgage could you get on this house?” But before that—there’s something I haven’t told you yet. I had written to the Rebbe that I wanted to buy a certain house, that they were asking such-and-such an amount, and I asked the Rebbe whether to buy it or not. I received one word from the Rebbe: “Buy.” [unclear]. Usually the answers were “According to the advice of knowledgeable friends,” or “May it be at a good and auspicious time.” My answer was one word: “Buy.” [unclear]. So, to continue: we signed a contract, and the appraiser had come to look at the house and made it out to be worth nothing. We still didn’t know what he had written, but in any case we got a letter from the bank approving seventeen thousand dollars. My calculation had been that I’d get twenty-seven thousand dollars and need another ten. But the bank gave only seventeen. I needed another ten. At that point there wasn’t even room to think about buying the house. This happened in the middle of Elul. Reb Mendel Futerfas came—I was very, very close to him—and I told him the story and said I didn’t know what to do. Mendel said to me, “Listen, you received an answer to buy. You have no way out of this. If you’d received ‘May it be at a good and auspicious time,’ you could interpret that to mean it would be good and auspicious not to buy. You could play with the answer. But you got one word: ‘Buy.’ You have no choice. I’ll help you with the money. I’m a cousin of Dudi Deutsch, I’m a friend of

18:30 Speaker 4 Shmuel [unclear]. I’ll take out loans on my own responsibility, you’ll get the money and buy it. That’s it. Don’t think about anything else.” Fine. The paperwork went to the bank, and we waited. But right after we submitted the paperwork and began waiting for the mortgage, I wrote to the Rebbe. I told him the whole story. I wrote that I had bank approval for seventeen thousand dollars, though only on paper, and that since I had received an answer to buy, I was buying it. But I asked the Rebbe for a bracha that I should obtain the money easily and that it should be easy for me to repay the debts. Within an hour and a half I received an answer: “I will mention it at the Ohel.” Fine. Time went by; the month passed. I hadn’t even realized a month had gone by. I got a call from the woman in Argentina: “Mr. Weissky[?], do you realize a whole month has passed and you haven’t called to complete the deal?” I said, “I’m sorry. I’ll speak to the lawyer.” The month was already up. She could cancel the contract. I called Mr. Listman: “What’s going on here? The month is up.” “I’m sorry, it’s my fault. I didn’t follow up.” He immediately called the bank: “Where’s the money? What’s happening?” “No, wait, wait.” They looked here and there, then told him, “Sorry, call back in an hour. We can’t find his file”—the whole file with the appraisal and everything. There was no file at the bank. He called back an hour later, and the bank manager told him, “For the first time in this bank’s history, a file has been lost. Nothing like this has ever happened. It’s our fault; we understand the situation. We’re starting over, and we’ll finish within two days. He’ll get the money. It’s our fault. The file was lost.” The next day an appraiser came, but a different one. I stood beside the house, my hands shaking. What was going to happen? He came and looked at the house. “What a house! You don’t see houses like this in Crown Heights. Look at the size! All right, there are a few things to throw out

21:56 Speaker 4 and fix—nothing serious. With a little money, you’ll have a palace here. How much are they asking you for this house?” I said, “Thirty-five thousand.” “Thirty-five thousand? What a bargain!” The next day the lawyer got a call from the bank: twenty—twenty-nine thousand dollars. And I received twenty-nine thousand dollars from the bank. So tell me if that isn’t a tangible revelation of G-dliness. The Rebbe gave me one answer: “I will mention it at the Ohel.” And that settled the whole story. Boruch Hashem, I got the house, everything worked out, and may Hashem help us so that very soon our redeemer will be revealed to us and we will see the Rebbe with our physical eyes. L’chaim, l’chaim.

26:15 Speaker 5 Mama, mama, oy ya, ya. Li la, la, la, la, la, la, la, oy ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, mama, ya, lili, la, la, oy, lili, la, la, la, la. Oy, lili, la, la, la, la, oy ya, ya, ya. Ya mama, mama, mama, oy la, la. Ya mama, mama, oy, lili, lili, ya, mama, ya, ya, lili, la, la. Ya, lili, lili, ya, mama. Ya mama, mama, ya, mama, ya, lili, la, la.

27:09 Speaker 6 L’chaim, l’chaim. I thank Rabbi Michael. We’re now in yechidus with the Rebbe; we have to tell the Rebbe everything. One of the special Jews of Kfar Chabad, who was known throughout the world for his devotion and his connection to the Rebbe, was a guide for chassidim in the way he expressed himself about the Rebbe. That was the partisan Reb Zusha, a”h. He’s no longer with us. He should have spoken here today too, so his son is here with us. Let’s ask Rabbi Levi—not for too long. No, you’re not old; we can interrupt you. If you go on too long, we’ll stop you. Come, come say l’chaim. Rabbi Levi, Rabbi Levi, come. Come tell us one story about the Rebbe. Come say l’chaim here. Come, Rabbi Levi. He needs no introduction. Yes, director of the Chabad institutions in Migdal HaEmek, and so on and so forth. Everyone knows all that already. Tell us something that will strengthen our connection to the Rebbe.

28:18 Speaker 7 Sit, stand—whatever you want.

28:26 Speaker 6 Everything will be fine. Huh? L’chaim—finish it, l’chaim. Can’t you pour more? L’chaim, l’chaim. A poor speaker. Let’s see. I’ll tell a story. All right, can you hear me? Can everyone hear me? Yes, you can hear me fine.

29:08 Speaker 7 What should I say?

29:12 Speaker 6 I’ll tell a story that happened about twenty-five years ago. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed such a thing was possible.

29:25 Speaker 7 Oh!

29:28 Speaker 6 When I was at the Chabad House in Holon, there was a deputy chairman of the religious council who opposed Chabad’s activities. Whenever the chairman of the religious council wanted to help with an activity, this deputy would do everything he could to make it difficult to help Chabad. One day I was sitting in the Chabad House—one day, around midday, a woman came in with a letter and said, “I want to read you a letter I received from my cousin.” This woman was the wife of the deputy chairman of the religious council. She told me the following, translating the letter for me. By way of introduction, she said, “I have a cousin who is a very successful businessman. He lives in France, and for many years he had no children. In the merit of the Lubavitcher Rebbe, a daughter was born to him. As a sign of gratitude, whenever he traveled to the United States on business, his last prayer before leaving New York would be Minchah in the small shul upstairs with the Rebbe.” Then she began reading the letter she had received. Actually, this story has since been publicized a little, in various versions, so I decided simply to tell it as it happened, as I know it, as I heard it from her. She read and translated the letter for me: her cousin’s daughter had become ill, and the illness grew worse and worse. Because of her illness, he didn’t leave the... the house; he didn’t go out on business. Eventually the doctors said there was no hope. He was sitting in his living room, where a large picture of the Rebbe hung. Overwhelmed with distress as he sat thinking about what his daughter was going through and his terrible pain, he took his shoe and threw it at

32:46 Speaker 6 the Rebbe’s picture. She was translating this for me from the letter. Some time passed, and the girl recovered. He didn’t know what had made her well—why had she recovered? Eventually he was able to travel on business again. He went to New York, and for his last prayer there, as was his custom when he came to New York, he went in to daven Minchah with the Rebbe. But this time he didn’t manage to get into the room, and he—

00:06 Speaker 1 And they wrote there, “Extremely urgent.” As soon as Chanukah ended on Thursday night, I called the family that Motzaei Shabbos. It was the Shaulov family. “Hello, Mr. Ben Zion?” “Yes.” “I’m from Chabad. Some people came to your home for the Chanukah candles, and you asked them to have someone come check the mezuzos urgently.” “Yes, yes, come as soon as you can. My wife is ill. Come right away.” I told him, “I’m on my way.” We drove to Holon, right after Shabbos. I went to the family’s home at 22 Hankin Street and knocked on the door. “Come in, come in.” What was so extremely urgent? He told me, “Listen, I’m a businessman. I have a precision-machining factory in south Tel Aviv. Everything I’d saved over the years has gone to doctors. My wife fell into a depression a year and a half ago, and that was it. She can’t get out of it. Every day she suffers from something else. Every day I bring in the best doctors, and that’s where the money goes.” So I began checking the mezuzos. The mezuzah in the bedroom was cracked. On Monday I called him. “So, how are things, Ben Zion? Anything new?” “No. Nothing new.” “All right,” I said. “Listen, tomorrow evening I’ll come to your home and we’ll call the Rebbe. I want you to speak personally with the secretary and give him all the details he needs.” That was Tuesday evening. I came to his home. We dialed until we got through. He reached Rabbi Groner and told him the whole story. The following evening, Wednesday night, I called to ask how things were, whether there was any news and whether he needed help. “Mr. Ben Zion, how are you? How is your wife?” “Mr. Levi—Rabbi Levi—come straight to my house, urgently! Come right away!” I said, all right, I’ll come.

02:30 Speaker 1 I came, and he said, “Sit down. I have to tell you something. You have to sit down. Every morning I leave for work and make myself breakfast. I take sandwiches for lunch, which I make myself, or I go to a workers’ restaurant there. This morning I made an exception for you. I remembered that I’d made an exception for you, and I came home around seven-thirty. As I approached the door, everything went black before my eyes. I could smell food cooking. I said, ‘Master of the Universe, I’m afraid to go inside. Could I have forgotten to turn off the gas?’ I went in anyway, and there was my wife cooking. I hadn’t seen her cook in a year and a half.” In short, I spoke with his wife, Mrs. Chana Shaulov. We sat and talked, and she said, “Listen, I woke up at eight in the morning. I didn’t want to get up, and I saw an elderly man shouting at me: ‘Get out of bed!’” I had pictures of the Rebbe in my bag—I always kept them there. I showed her one, and she said, “That’s the man who shouted at me. That’s the man who told me to get up. With Hashem’s help, next week I’m flying especially to see him.” A Bulgarian woman, a Bulgarian family—she traveled especially to 770 to see the Rebbe.

04:15 Speaker 1 She said, “I was deeply moved. When I was leaving, I asked the secretary for one thing: I wanted to kiss the mezuzah on the door of the Rebbe’s room.” And they began keeping kosher and replaced all the mezuzos and tefillin. A Bulgarian family. That’s the story. I saw it and was there when it happened. L’chaim, l’chaim. Rabbi Ben Zio— “Moshiach, when will you come, Master? When your wellsprings spread outward. Moshiach, when will you come, Master? When your wellsprings spread outward. Moshiach, Moshiach, Moshiach, Moshiach, when will you come, Master? When they spread... Moshiach, Moshiach, Moshiach, Moshiach, when will you come, Master? When they spread. Moshiach, when will you come, Master? When your wellsprings spread outward. Ah, ah, ah, ah, oy. Oy, oy, oy, oy, oy, oy, Moshiach. When will you come, Master? When your wellsprings spread outward. Moshiach, Moshiach, Moshiach, Moshiach, when will you come, Master? When they spread. Moshiach, Moshiach, Moshiach, Moshiach, when will you come, Master? When they spread.”

06:43 Speaker 2 L’chaim, l’chaim. Thank you very much, Rabbi Levi. A man of action, a man of action—in practical deeds too, and so on and so forth. With us here is Rabbi Meir Bestovsky, known throughout the yeshiva high schools for his Tanya classes. He spreads the wellsprings of Chassidus. Today he is also involved in running Talmudei Tinokos Shel Beis Rabban. He has stories about the Rebbe to share. He’ll also strengthen us in the Rebbe’s work and in dedicating ourselves to carrying out the Rebbe’s instructions. Rabbi Meir Bestovsky, please. Come over here so people can see you. Do you want to stand? Sit? No, sit here facing east. L’chaim, l’chaim.

07:49 Speaker 3 L’chaim and blessings. L’chaim and blessings. I’ll tell you two stories: one from 5727 and one long story from 5769. One from before and one from after. When I came to the Rebbe in 5727, it was, of course, after a great deal of persuasion. I had come from Haifa, after all, and the well-known Avremel Dunin’s one aim was to get it into my head that I should go to the Rebbe. At that point it didn’t mean anything to me yet. I was just another rabbi—more or less. But through his urging and the farbrengens we had together, I began to absorb the idea. Rabbi Itzke here also spoke about it, of course, and I came to understand some of it through him too. I remember 20 Elul 5726 as though it were today: he and his brother and several others who are important figures in Chabad today. The main message was always, “Travel to the Rebbe.” Well, travel? I’d never flown in my life. I had come from Europe by ship, but flying, and all that it involved—where to? To whom? Nobody was waiting for me there. I had no family there, nothing. Travel? Some people travel because they also have people to visit. I had no one there to visit at all. But the idea sank in, and we went. Once I saw the Rebbe, of course, it began to speak to me. One thing I saw—and I didn’t dare look at the Rebbe—was during Minchah. They davened Minchah, and Shacharis in the morning; Minchah in particular was in that small zal. The Rebbe looked everyone over. He looked at me too, for a whole minute, and I felt a little—as they say—as though he was seeing too deeply into me. They told me, “Listen, he’s cleaning you out.” Later they told me, “Listen, he went over you from every direction. He cleaned you out completely.”

10:50 Speaker 3 I still didn’t understand what all that meant. But when I came to him for yechidus, it was about two months later. I had one yechidus, and then another before I traveled back to Israel. There I dared to ask the Rebbe many questions. Of course, the main question for someone living in the material world is: What’s going to become of me? What are we going to do? The second question concerned a beard. I was very afraid for my father’s life, you might say. He had heart problems then. Back when he was in Russia, he had run away from all of this. At thirteen he had had peyos and everything, and suddenly his son was beginning to enter a world that, to him, meant having a hat—not on your head, but in your hand to collect money. That was how he imagined it: anyone who became more involved in Judaism cut himself off from this world, and then, to make a living, had to take some old hat or new hat, it didn’t matter, and go from person to person. Those were the notions he had about Judaism, and I feared for his life. I simply knew that if I came back looking the way I did, he would go downhill—leave this world, as people say. He was a heart patient, and there had been the struggle before I left; now I would be returning to him looking different. I told the Rebbe the whole story, that I feared for his life. This was in 5727, 5727. My father passed away in 5749—I’m giving you the timeline. In other words, he lived many more years. The Rebbe cited the Shulchan Aruch of the Tzemach Tzedek and gave me specific sections. At the time I understood a great many of those sections; I listened and wrote them down—about the virtue of a beard and everything—and he gave me

12:59 Speaker 3 Come with all the conviction you can muster. On the contrary, he said, if you start being half-committed, your father will make you even less committed. Because if you come with something uncertain, people can get into that uncertainty and start stripping more and more things away from you. Be completely firm. In other words, take it all upon yourself. And the question of Rabbeinu Tam tefillin was also one of my questions. The Rebbe told me, “On condition that you start and don’t stop.” I thought to myself a little: Why is he asking me that? If I’m raising it, surely I already see it as a certainty. But that question also gave me an outlook and a firm decision. Later, in my Chabad work among religious-Zionist youth, I found myself asking exactly the same question, in almost the same words, of people who wanted to start putting on tefillin. Why? Because I saw that if you don’t ask it, sometimes they keep it up for a month, two months, three months, and then stop. They take it on in their first burst of enthusiasm, but when that enthusiasm begins to cool, they stop. So whenever a man approached me about it, I would ask the Rebbe’s question: “On condition that you…” With one person I wasn’t successful, but all the others, baruch Hashem, still put on tefillin to this day. My biggest question there was about what came next for me—what I should do with my life. It wasn’t as though I had a serious problem: I was already, in today’s terms, an academic with a good background and a very secure future. People were looking for people like that, who could go out into the field, knew the field and knew what to do there. I was studying mechanical engineering then, and of course it wasn’t

14:59 Speaker 3 hard to find work. I asked the Rebbe what I should do nevertheless. It’s a familiar question to ask the Rebbe: What should I do? Even if it seems certain to you, the Rebbe still has to give his opinion. And this is what he told me. What followed was very interesting—a profound insight into a person’s soul in a single sentence. He said, “If you need money, you have a profession.” In other words, if you want to become wealthy or something like that, you have no problem. “But if that isn’t what matters to you—if it doesn’t matter to you—then education.” I hadn’t thought much about education, but… I came out, and according to the clock I had been there for twelve minutes. They told me that was a very long time. How else do I know it was a long time? Because the door kept opening, and of course, as you know from these stories, someone was standing there—the person in charge of… right? And each time the Rebbe waved him away. Twelve minutes is a long time. I came out and, of course, told someone everything that had happened inside. He said, “Listen, consult with some people here about what to do.” In the end he told me, “If the Rebbe said something you hadn’t thought of, that’s your path.” I won’t even mention names, because the point is what he said. Suddenly there’s a new idea: instead of the secure profession that would let you make a very, very respectable living, you’re going to leave it because of one thought—education? When I got home—and here’s the interesting part—when I got home, of course, there was the whole matter of the completeness of my dress that the Rebbe had spoken about,

16:51 Speaker 3 and that really was part of it. Naturally, there were a question or two here and there, but they fell away, and I was received at home with the greatest respect. You have to understand: this was a home that didn’t live that way, and suddenly in comes someone who looks Charedi, with a beard and everything. When I left, I had a goatee and a knitted kippah. When I came back, I suddenly had a hat and a long beard. Once I stopped shaving, of course, the beard made its presence felt; in no time at all it had grown in height and length. You know how it is: when you keep trimming it, afterward people say, “Look, everything you cut off shows up in its length in the end…” So I came in with this big beard. My father looked at me; I was afraid, and he took it rather hard at first. Afterward… As I told you, from 27 to 59—that is, to 49—was enough time to understand the way of life my father remembered. But when I came to him and said, “Listen, the Rebbe said something about my work,” he told me, “My son, I hid something very important from you.” Every father wants his son to turn out the way he wishes. Somehow, we bring up our children wanting to see our own aspirations and our own future expressed in them. What I didn’t do, my son will do. So my father had pushed me in that direction. After I took a psychometric test—they give it in eighth grade… A little water, please; I’m getting a bit dry. L’chaim. Right. He told me they had received the test results. They give those tests to find out what direction each child should take. It was as clear as day that I wasn’t suited to that profession. It said explicitly

19:04 Speaker 3 that I wasn’t suited to that line of work. Of course, when a person has ability, he can do what he does, but my natural inclination wasn’t in that direction at all. That had always weighed on me. I studied and studied, but it didn’t speak to me. I learned things and knew things, but there was some sort of barrier, as though it wasn’t for me. As I once put it to Dunin, you can spend your time designing and making a chair using robotic methods. There are methods you learn that let you build a chair that moves in every direction so that, in the end, some fellow can sit on it. Am I supposed to devote thirty years of my life to building a chair for someone to sit at a bar and swivel around on? To plan and design it just to earn money, so that some particular person can use some peripheral thing that has no real value? In other words, you spend your time on things whose whole purpose is to provide you with a salary once a month. Then my father told me that the test results had said explicitly: “He belongs in academic subjects, in education.” At that moment it was as if an electric current went through me. What are you saying? You hid from me the very thing I had come back to after such a huge detour? Think about it: from around 27 and all the way back. I finished there in… and when I heard this, it was in [unclear] grade. To hear, after so much time, that in one word the Rebbe had added “education”—something that had never even occurred to me. Perhaps academic study or learning, but education specifically, just as my father had been told. It gave me a sense that things had come full circle.

21:04 Speaker 3 In one second, the Rebbe sensed where I was headed. That’s one story. The second story happened in 5759. After I retired—that is, I had worked at the vocational school from 5728 until 5759, or rather, until the end of 5758—I thought to myself, baruch Hashem… Here’s what’s interesting: when I first came to the Rebbe, I had asked whether he might let me study in kollel for two years. That was one of my questions in yechidus. I wanted to learn. By then I knew about the Rebbe, had been deeply impressed, and understood that Chabad was Chabad. It had already entered into me, and I had begun to identify with it. The Rebbe answered all my questions except the one about kollel. I never received an answer about kollel. So when I retired, I said, “Ah, baruch Hashem, now I’ll sit in a yeshivah and learn. That’s it, I’m done. I’ve worked for thirty years—thirty-two years. How much longer can a person work?” Then a job offer came my way. No, it wasn’t just a job offer; it was a “to be or not to be” offer. If I didn’t take it, the whole undertaking would be lost. I was being asked to take over the Talmud Torah in Petach Tikvah. It was very hard for me. I spent two weeks looking into it, examining the situation, and I couldn’t bring myself to accept it. It was a cramped three-story building; the standard of learning, the standard of education—everything was at zero. I don’t want to exaggerate, but there were truly alarming things there. To take that on at my age and start everything over—I didn’t have the strength for it. Then an issue of Kfar Chabad came into my hands. It had a story in it—two stories, about the Frierdiker Rebbe and the Rebbe. I was stunned, because one of those stories gave me exactly the push I needed. I couldn’t

23:26 Speaker 3 To decide otherwise. It just all worked out that way. It’s unbelievable, because I had every reason to say no. Why should I take on a new job in education after thirty-two years? Enough. Eliyahu is sitting here across from me; he knows what it means to work in education for thirty years. That gives you every reason to say no. Why do I need it? It’s work that never begins and never ends. Then I came across a story about the Rebbe—about the Frierdiker Rebbe. I read it and read it and read it, right to the end, and the conclusion was astounding. It said that the Frierdiker Rebbe gave this answer. I’ll tell you the story too, but his answer was: “No yeshiva will close in my lifetime.” This was a Misnagdic yeshiva. “No yeshiva will close in my lifetime.” In other words, there was no reason for the Rebbe to persuade—whom? This was a Misnagdic yeshiva that opposed the Rebbe, and the Rebbe devoted himself to saving it. There’s a long story here, and he donated three thousand dollars. Go back sixty, seventy years—what was that worth then? We were just talking about how, back in [unclear], when I lived in [unclear], a house cost thirty-five thousand dollars. Here we’re talking about three thousand dollars sixty or seventy years ago. That was a fortune. And the Frierdiker Rebbe gave it to a rosh yeshiva whose whole outlook was against Chabad. The Rebbe kept sending emissaries to a man whose yeshiva was about to close. The bank had him by the throat and told him, “If you don’t pay me in two weeks, the whole thing closes.” This was the life’s work of a man who had come from Europe. It was his whole life, his whole being—this

25:40 Speaker 3 yeshiva. He couldn’t sleep at night. For two weeks he kept asking himself, “How am I going to get out of this?” And the Rebbe somehow sensed what was on his mind and sent a representative. The man said, “What do these Chabad people want from me? What do they want?” Once, then a second day, then a third: “What do they want?” Until one day he received them. In the end he regretted receiving them—you know this story. He regretted it. He thought, “Why did I tell him the whole story? He hates me. Has he come to gloat over my troubles?” After that, on the last day, the Rebbe sent him an envelope. He still didn’t know what was inside it. It contained three thousand dollars. When he came to the Rebbe and asked, “You gave me all this—why did you do all this for me?” the Rebbe told him, “No yeshiva will close in my lifetime.” It’s an astounding story. Now I’m facing a dilemma, yes or no, and suddenly I see an answer like that. I thought, What? I’d never encountered a question like this, or an answer like this. I mean, I hadn’t come across stories like that, and this appeared just when I didn’t know what to do. So I decided to take the job. Why did I take it? Because Moshiach is about to come any day. I thought I’d take on a month or two of work and have one more bit of credit. As we say, you gather one more merit. Wonderful. But it’s already gone on for four years. My thought was that I’d do something like the story Reb [unclear] once told: he’d covered the hundred and twenty kilometers and all that, and they gave him, say, another twenty meters to do. Finish—no, another kilometer. And in the end the commander said no.

27:20 Speaker 3 While he was boasting about it. It’s a whole story. That was in my mind: another twenty meters to go, and I’ll finish my part in bringing Moshiach, because each of us has to make our own personal effort. It’s gone on for four years. And there’s another story within this story, something I still don’t understand to this day. When I started this job, the association painted everything rosy for me. Everything’s fine, everything’s fine. I mean, I was looking into the financial side; everything was fine. Within three months I got a letter from the tax authority saying that if I didn’t pay the enormous sum written at the bottom, they would freeze my operation. I have an operation? But by then I’d already started working there, and I knew I had to do something. I turned to the association. Why didn’t you tell me about this? Why did you hide it from me? In any case, they claimed they knew nothing about it. It was an enormous sum. I said to myself, I have to do whatever I can. I got as far as the deputy finance minister, Dan Nissim [unclear]. I went to see him and said, “Listen, this whole thing isn’t my fault. It was my predecessor.” The names don’t matter here. “He didn’t pay income tax for three years. What am I supposed to do? How do I get out of this? It isn’t my problem; I didn’t start it. From the moment I began working there, I immediately started making the income-tax payments, paying them what was due, and that was that.” He kept stringing me along for two months, I’m telling you. Every week I asked, “Well, is there an answer? Is there an answer?” In response to my question, he offered me a payment plan. He said, “I’ll give you a plan you can manage, and I’ll speak to that assessor”

29:21 Speaker 3 “in Petach Tikva and sort him out.” I was certain that his word was his word. I came there that Thursday, after two months. That was the day they’d summoned me to appear before a man coming from Jerusalem, a man who was in charge of the entire central district from Jerusalem. His word could decide things either way, and I was scared to death. Even though I’d never dealt with them—I was an educator. But you hear things about the tax authority and the people there, how they’re out to catch you and tear you apart. I was simply terrified about what would happen to me. Who knew what else might come my way? I went in and sat down. We’d arranged for twelve; he arrived at one. Fine, they called him in. Across the table sat the man in charge of income tax in Petach Tikva. He sat beside me, on the same side of the table, and I waited to see what he would say. Before that, I’d said to the Rebbe, “Help me.” I said the yechi declaration. “Help me, because I can jump from the top to the bottom, but I can’t jump from the bottom to the top. I can’t jump twelve stories upward. Help me. I don’t know what to do. This institution is yours. Working in education will give me a pension, and I’m fine with that. But if this matter is so important to us, then help me.” I sit down beside him. What does he ask me? “Are you Chabad?” I say, “Yes.” “Do you know so-and-so?” I can’t understand why he’s suddenly asking that question. This is a man who lived in my house for ten years, and spent another ten years around my house. I say, “He lived with me. I know him.” I start telling him about the man, and he sees that I know him even better—then

31:27 Speaker 3 he says, “He’s my cousin.” “Your cousin?” We talked about his cousin for half an hour, and it turned out that his daughter—the cousin’s daughter—was studying at the Weizmann Institute. She’d caught the bug too, as they say—the religious bug. She’d become interested in Chabad and studied at Machon Alta. And while we’re talking about his cousin, he tells me about his daughter as well. So I say to him, “Listen, have you looked into things for your daughter?” He says she’s already at an age when she’s ready to get married. So I tell him, “Listen, tomorrow—I know Chabad well. I’m willing to help you with that too.” And what are we talking about? That man. We’re talking about his daughter. We’ve even wandered into other things, straying a little from the whole subject. I’m terrified about what’s going to happen to me. There’s a shark in front of me who has the power to decide these things, and I have to face him. What am I going to say? I don’t even understand the language of money. I’d barely dealt with money before. This was the first time I was dealing with budgets, at this school. Before that, I’d lived like a king: I dealt only with education at the vocational school. Zusha handled the money, Zusha and Teichman and the others. Had I ever handled money? So in the end he says to me, “Tell me—what are we actually here for? What exactly do you need?” I said, “Listen, I have this problem.” “No problem, no problem. Wait, I’ll pick up the phone. Tell me, what do you need? Twenty-four installments? Thirty? How many do you need?” I said, “I need”

00:06 Speaker 1 It has held up to this very day, because these things are simply—I don’t understand money. And I don’t have the— So it all started now, at this age, and Hashem helped: all along, you see a hand reaching out to help. I don’t know how. I mean, this idea of building something from scratch, building an institution that can sustain itself and balance its books—anyone who works in this field understands what that means. It was all a process, all miracles. And may Hashem help that, just as these things seem like miracles to us, the great miracle is also waiting for us—the miracle we know about and long for so deeply, the miracle of the true and complete Geulah, after which there will be no exile. And we say that we should merit it right now. Thank you, all the best.

00:58 Speaker 2 Good for you, good for you! Thank you very much, Rebbe. Truly, what you feel is that... our actions are actions that bring Moshiach. Every action of every person. Beyond all measure.

01:10 Speaker 1 Is someone listening to this on the radio? Does someone here have a radio, what?

01:17 Speaker 2 Until your lips wear out from saying, “Enough, enough, enough.” Until your lips wear out from saying, “Enough, enough, enough.” “And I will pour out a blessing for you beyond all measure.” Beyond all measure, beyond all measure, beyond all measure—enough, enough, enough, enough. “And I will pour out a blessing for you beyond all measure.” Beyond all measure, beyond all measure, beyond all measure—enough, enough, enough, enough. Until your lips wear out from saying, “Enough, enough, enough.” Until your lips wear out from saying, “Enough, enough, enough.” “My lips will sing with joy when I sing praises to You, when I sing praises to You, and my soul, which You have redeemed.” “My lips will sing with joy when I sing praises to You, when I sing praises to You, and my soul, which You have redeemed.” “My tongue, too, all day long, my tongue, too, all day long, will speak of Your righteousness. For those who seek my harm have been shamed, have been disgraced.” “My lips will sing with joy when I sing praises to You, when I sing praises to You, and my soul, which You have redeemed.” “My lips will sing with joy when I sing praises to You, when I sing—oy, and my soul, which You have redeemed.” “My tongue, too, all day long, my tongue, too, all day long, will speak of Your righteousness. For those who seek my harm have been shamed, have been disgraced.” Oy, sing with joy, and blessed be the remembrance of Your name. Raised, raised, raised, raised and exalted, raised and exalted above...

03:47 Speaker 3 Friends, it hasn’t ended and it hasn’t begun. Yes, Meir, [unclear] Meir is outside. He’s here, just arrived from a class, from a farbrengen in the Hatikva neighborhood, where Reb Tzvi is coming from. Ah, we’d also like to hear something to strengthen our connection to the Rebbe. Reb Tzvi, please. A story, an incident involving the Rebbe, something. Reb Tzvi, please come over here. L’chaim, l’chaim and blessings.

04:56 Speaker 4 The lectern is— The lectern is by the lights. Good, excellent.

05:35 Speaker 3 L’chaim and blessings.

05:36 Speaker 4 L’chaim and blessings. “In You our fathers trusted; they trusted and You delivered them. In You our fathers trusted; they trusted and You delivered them.”

05:59 Speaker 3 “To You they cried out and were saved; in You...”

06:05 Speaker 4 “In You our fathers trusted.”

06:09 Speaker 3 “To You they cried out and were saved; in You they trusted and were not ashamed.” Ay, ay.

06:21 Speaker 4 Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay.

06:22 Speaker 3 Ay, ay, ay.

06:26 Speaker 4 Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay.

06:37 Speaker 3 “In You our fathers trusted; they trusted and You delivered them.”

06:47 Speaker 4 “In You our fathers trusted.”

06:52 Speaker 3 “They trusted and You delivered them.” “To You they cried out and were saved; in You they trusted, trusted.”

07:05 Speaker 4 “Trusted.”

07:05 Speaker 3 “To You they cried out and were saved.”

07:12 Speaker 4 “In You they trusted and were not ashamed.”

07:16 Speaker 3 Ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya, ya. “To You they cried out and were saved; in You they trusted, trusted and were not ashamed. To You they cried out and were saved; in You they trusted and were not ashamed.” Give me yam-bam-bam-bam, ay, ay, ay, yam.

08:02 Speaker 4 Na, na, na, na, na, na.

08:06 Speaker 3 Ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay, ay.

08:12 Speaker 4 Ah, ya, pa, pa, pa, pa, pa.

08:20 Speaker 3 Ay, “and were saved; in You they trusted, trusted, trusted, trusted and were not ashamed. To You they cried out and were saved.” Bim, bim, bim, bim, boom. Ti-li-li, hi-li-li, din. L’chaim, l’chaim and blessings. “Rabbi Shimon began”—once it’s been opened, the door is open and anyone can come through. Ah, in the years 5710, 5711, there was a conversation the Rebbe had with Eliyahu Mokotowski. Later he became Eliyahu Kitov. He lived in Shikun P’G and was a friend of both Uriel Zimmer, a”h, and, may he live for many good years, Tuvia Blau, who was just beginning to come closer then. The Rebbe told Avrom Mokotowski to get involved in politics. So he said to the Rebbe, “But I’ve written a book, Ish Uveiso.” The Rebbe told him, “A young man from Eitz Chaim could write that too. It wouldn’t have your brilliance, but the content would be there. What you can do in politics, others cannot.” Because in 5709 he ran in the elections, and then again, and lost; afterward he was secretary of the Chief Rabbinate, and people put obstacles in his way. So he fled that business of working in— In one of the conversations, the Rebbe told him, “If I had ten young men”—if I had ten dedicated young men and could get past the Hashomer Hatzair barrier with them, show them and give them a taste of “Taste and see that Hashem is good,” they would come afterward in droves. And Mokotowski said, “Rebbe, you have so many fantasies,” while here they’re burning everything, burning, and it’s all going up in flames. Those were the years when the children of immigrants were arriving and being allocated according to party quotas. And those who know, know that there were even children already registered with Chabad in Morocco. They registered everything, every name, but it wasn’t done according to the percentages. Afterward the Rebbe began his activities, and an opening was made. And they began to get through. I remember

11:38 Speaker 3 how people stood in line for Reb Yisroel Leibov, a”h, and several others who took part at the time, a”h. They pleaded and asked them to come, to give them that “Taste and see” of what Chassidus could offer. Week after week, several nights a week, they would travel, ah, long distances to kibbutzim. They were received warmly. There was a response. Ah, like all the Chabad people involved, they were always late: they were meant to arrive at nine and got there at ten, and the driver, ah, drove some more, and— But the people waited, welcomed them, and sat with them. They wanted this, they wanted that; they sang. The Rebbe asked them then to report on every activity. There weren’t enough reports: “It has been a long time since I received messages and reports from him”; they should not let up, but continue and report, and so on and so forth. Later I had the privilege, somewhat later, before the Six-Day War, of traveling to the Rebbe. My friends told me, “Why do you travel to kibbutzim and moshavim, pat them on the back and talk about Ahavas Yisroel? Let them know what’s what! They’re empty, they have nothing. Give it to them properly, straight on the head.” I said, “I’m not going there to hit them over the head, but to offer something.” Still, as they say, when your friends tell you something, you listen. I wrote a note to the Rebbe. I went in to the Rebbe and handed it over. It was amazing: people from the Hatikva neighborhood had given me pages. Each person—the Rebbe, they should write a lot; he doesn’t have enough reading material, he needs people to give him some! So I brought a whole bundle of pages. Everyone had written something, everyone. And when I went into yechidus, the Rebbe did this and this, and— I thought he was looking them over and then, ah, just seeing the headings. And the Rebbe answered me, answered me, answered me, and I could no longer take it all in. I said, “One moment, I can’t keep up.” Ah, I didn’t know

14:03 Speaker 3 exactly what was written there; I had to take it in. Then suddenly I saw the Rebbe straighten up, look at me, and say, “And as for what you write about speaking to them?” He told me: G-d forbid, that puts up a wall. If you speak about that, you’ll have no one left to speak to. They came to ask you what they’re missing, what they don’t have. They came to ask you what Chassidus can give them. What do you have to offer? What can you give someone that they’re missing? G-d forbid you should raise that subject. Strengthen them, strengthen and encourage them. And at that time, I remember, when I came back, people would say, “Chabad people, baalei teshuvah, baalei teshuvah!” They didn’t say it the other way around: Chabad baalei teshuvah. But the Rebbe opened the way and said to look at the good in every Jew, to express and offer the positive things Chassidus has. As for the shortcomings he has—I remember, as an aside, how we must speak only in praise of the Jewish people. There was one kibbutz that wrote to Reb Yisroel Leibov that he had told them, “All in all, you’re donkeys on two legs,” something like that. Later I had the privilege of hearing this from Rabbi Uri Zohar, may his merit protect us: “No, we didn’t come to ask you what we are. We came to ask you what you are. Why are you telling me that we’re this and that? That’s not what we came for. We know who we are. Tell us who you are and what you have.” So that is the power of “Rabbi Shimon began” that the Rebbe gave us and continues to give us: to see the good in every Jew. Always speak positively, not negatively; always speak about the good. And may we merit to see the good. May I see it and recognize it with my physical eyes, amid joy and gladness of heart. L’chaim.

16:09 Speaker 5 L’chaim and blessings.

16:15 Speaker 3 Ay, yay, ah.

16:19 Speaker 5 He is our King, He is our Savior, [unclear] in exile, ay, ay, ay, ay, [unclear] Shimon.

16:34 Speaker 3 … How do you say something mundane? This week we had a great achievement: a Druze received his pilot’s wings in the Israel Defense Forces. Well, since the days of our forefathers, there has never been such a thing—Jews training someone who is not Jewish, and he received his pilot’s wings, and so on and so forth. But this is a question about the Druze, and that’s why I thought of this Druze. They have lieutenant colonels among them, and so on. He says, “Listen, what’s this about?” he asks. A health fund—each fund looks after its own members. You pay your dues to it. So of course, if you aren’t a member of that fund, they don’t have to look after you; you aren’t their responsibility. Tell me, is it true what you say? “Heal us, Hashem, and we will be healed,” and you ask for a complete recovery, “Blessed are You, Hashem, Who heals the sick of His people Israel.” And what about the Druze? What about the Circassians? What about the Baptists?

19:24 Speaker 3 And look, listen, there were already wounded people from Lebanon, who were still from—well... So say, “Blessed are You, Hashem, Who heals the sick.” Does it cost you anything? G-d is great; He belongs to everyone. If you’re praying, then pray, “Blessed are You, Hashem, Who heals the sick.” Why “Who heals the sick of His people Israel”? Racism. The rabbi, may he live... well.

19:50 Speaker 6 Ginsburgh.

19:50 Speaker 3 Ginsburgh. They decided to put him on trial. Yes, yes, in a court in Jerusalem. Incitement. He says that Arabs aren’t the same as Jews. That’s already—so when you pray, that’s racism. Say, “Who heals, Who heals the sick.” After all, G-d is a great G-d. Well, I’ll ask my rabbi. In short, as the conversation went on, you had to give an answer. For those here who understand Yiddish, two words. My grandmother used to say, “Zol zayn gezunt vi a goy”—“May you be as healthy as a goy.” What kind of blessing is that? “May you be as healthy as a goy.” What sort of blessing? Have you heard that? It’s a Yiddish blessing: “Zol zayn gezunt vi a goy.” Why “as healthy as a goy”? What about a goy?

20:45 Speaker 7 The Yerushalmi.

20:47 Speaker 3 The Yerushalmi. A non-Jew can be born and live to 120. There was a non-Jew in his nineties, and they told him about a doctor for toothaches. He said, “I don’t understand—how can a tooth hurt?” So a non-Jew can be born and live 120 years without ever visiting a health fund, or a fund for healthy people. He’s healthy and strong. Why open your mouth about him? Don’t open your mouth to the Satan and say, “Blessed are You, Hashem, Who heals the sick.” A non-Jew doesn’t have to be sick. But a Jew—it’s impossible for a Jewish child to be born, for seven days to pass, and then for them to perform his bris without his being unwell. At the bris, he’s unwell. So you have to make a Mi Shebeirach for him. Anyone who performs a bris knows that immediately afterward, you make a Mi Shebeirach. So when we say, “Heal us, Hashem, and we will be healed,” it is specifically “Who heals the sick of His people Israel.” It’s specifically for a Jew, for the people of Israel. Because he must have a bris, and it’s performed on the eighth day, this is a prayer that Hakadosh Boruch Hu heal him. Apart from that, a person can be healthy. But for a non-Jew, don’t open your mouth to the Satan. He says, “No, you’re just telling stories.” Ah, so I say: Look at what our great sages established. Why did they establish the blessing of “Heal us” as the eighth blessing? The blessings have an order. The eighth blessing concerns Israel, and the Jewish people are above nature—that is the number eight. So we say, “Blessed are You, Hashem, Who heals the sick of His people Israel.” Because a child is born Jewish and on the eighth day the flesh of his foreskin is circumcised, this eighth blessing is simply for—But someone who isn’t Jewish, why open your mouth to the Satan? Why pray for Hakadosh Boruch Hu to heal him? Let him never be sick in his life, so he won’t need to be healed. But a Jewish child, on the eighth day—that’s why they established the eighth blessing to heal him. And since I see that people here have asked for a blessing

22:40 Speaker 3 for a complete recovery, may Hakadosh Boruch Hu grant the eighth blessing, which is above nature and pertains to a Jew. May everyone receive healing for all 248 of their limbs and 365 of their sinews, healing of the soul and healing of the body, speedily, in the near future, and let us say amen. L’chaim! “And You called Your great and holy name upon us, upon us.” … “Your great, Your great and holy name You called upon us, upon us, and You called Your great and holy name upon us, upon us.” … “Your great and holy name You called upon us; Your great and holy name You called upon us.” … “For G-d will save Zion and build the cities of Yehudah, and they will dwell there and possess it. For G-d...” [unclear]. “And build the cities—come here, sweetheart. And they will dwell there and possess it, and the descendants of His servants will inherit it, and those who love His name will dwell in it. And the descendants of His servants will inherit it, and those who love His name will dwell in it. The cities of Yehudah, and they will dwell there and possess it. For G-d will save Zion and build the cities of Yehudah, and they will dwell there and possess it. And the descendants of His servants will inherit it, and those who love His name will dwell in it. And the descendants of His servants will inher—” I get the impression there’s a Jew here who wants to speak, I think.

27:15 Speaker 3 His name is Menachem. Come here, sweetheart.

27:20 Speaker 8 Tell us the... tell us something.

27:23 Speaker 3 Tell something? All right. [unclear], but what about l’chaim? What kind of l’chaim?

27:38 Speaker 8 What should I tell?

27:42 Speaker 3 L’chaim, l’chaim and blessings. Until a few decades ago, on the Rebbe’s shlichus, I lived in a place called Kfar Maimon. They were Torah-observant Jews, as Rabbi Meir mentioned earlier, who wore knitted kippahs. And there, too, the Rebbe’s instruction was to do it with joy and a glad heart. In 5733, my eldest daughter, Mrs. Mark, reached bas mitzvah age, and there were chal—there were challenges, serious challenges. For example, on Fridays most of the local people would go to a mixed swimming pool, and of course the children did not. There was the issue of mixed classes, and so on. That year I decided to travel to the Rebbe. I had already been connected to him before, on Lag BaOmer. Among other things, when we wrote about the children, we wrote that “despite all the challenges, it seems the children are standing up to the tests, standing up to the tests.” We more or less hoped to receive an okay to continue living there. That was after thirteen years—thirteen has the numerical value of echad, “one.” But the Rebbe actually replied that “as they grow, the yetzer hara grows, so one cannot rely on that. The fact that the children have held on until now, have stood firm, is no proof.” In those years I worked as the principal of a school in Brosh. Earlier, Rabbi Meir Brostovsky said he had been in yechidus for twelve minutes. I don’t want to boast, but the fact is that Hashem granted me the privilege of a yechidus lasting twenty-three minutes. Of course, the same person who opened and closed the door for you opened and closed it for me too. Most of the conversation was about education. One of my questions concerned my fifth- and sixth-grade class, which had nine children, I think. One child, a relative of Yoram Abergel named Naftali Abergel, was at a vastly different level from all the other students—the other six or seven. He knew about nine hundred Mishnayos by heart, I think, while the weakest child in that fifth- and sixth-grade class could barely read and write.

30:40 Speaker 3 And he had his sights set on moving to the middle school in Kfar Maimon. One of my questions was that, from the school’s point of view, for the good of everyone, it was certainly better for him to stay in Brosh, so there would be at least some minimal academic challenge from one of the nine students. On the other hand, if I thought about what was best for him personally, then for his progress it would certainly be better for him to go to the middle school. The Rebbe replied that the good of the community comes first, as he repeats in many letters. I don’t remember the exact wording, but the point was not to stand in his way, and to handle it pleasantly. As it turned out, the pleasant approach didn’t help, and he moved. L’chaim, l’chaim. Perhaps something in connection with what Rabbi Deri, Reb Yaakov, said earlier about the place of the woman, the homemaker. Since the Rebbe told us that as the children grow, as I mentioned earlier, the yetzer hara grows with them, and they can’t—we shouldn’t remain there. So the question arose: we know where we’re leaving, but where should we go? When we arrived in Eretz Yisroel, they were just building the housing development; the buildings were still under construction. We asked about Lod and then raised the possibility of Kfar Chabad. And on that very point—not in those exact words, but the same point—the Rebbe said that if his wife agreed, he should take that step. Of course, we took that letter to Rabbi Meir Feinstein, of blessed memory, and [unclear] he immediately approved our coming. L’chaim, l’chaim, and blessings. That’s all I…