The Dowry Rebbetzin Chana Requested

Welcome to our weekly program, The Inside Story of Chabad in America, through the Mindel Archives.

In honor of Chof Av — mir zaynen shoyn, next week is Chof Av. Chof Av is the yahrzeit of the Rebbe's father, so I will share with you some stories that I heard from my Zeyde. My Zeyde was very close with the Rebbe's father, and also from a reliable source. When I say "reliable source" — because many times, you know, people tell stories, beautiful speakers, but the story is not 100% accurate. But these stories that I tell you are either from Rabbi Hodakov, or from the Rebbe, or from the Frierdiker Rebbe, or from my Zeyde, or from a person who was there, who heard it — a pashut maaseh, a simple, true account.

There is a young man — I believe his name is Koppel Kozeminsky, and he should have a refuah sheleimah; he is now in the hospital. He was a close friend of mine, and he was very close with Reb Chaim Lieberman, the Frierdiker Rebbe's mazkir in Europe. Reb Chaim Lieberman was a ben bayis by the Frierdiker Rebbe. So Koppel Kozeminsky went to visit him — he was in a nursing home in Williamsburg, in Eshel. He went to visit him, and when he came out, he called me over and said, "I want to tell you something — what he just told me." A story.

He said that the Frierdiker Rebbe told Reb Chaim Lieberman — "Tomorrow" — I don't know exactly how he put it — "I have a guest coming, and I think you should go somewhere; you should come back." I don't know how exactly he said it. You know, the Frierdiker Rebbe spoke very delicately. You remember in the previous program I mentioned that when the Frierdiker Rebbe ate upstairs, and the bachurim were pushing and watching the way the Frierdiker Rebbe ate, and nobody likes to be watched while they eat, the Frierdiker Rebbe turned to the bachurim and said, "Even to malachim, even to angels, you say tzeischem l'shalom — go in peace." So he didn't want to simply say "leave." That's how it was here too — I don't know exactly how he told Reb Chaim Lieberman that he should not be there tomorrow, and that he should come back the day after. He had a very special guest.

Who was the guest? Rebbetzin Chana, the Rebbe's mother, came to visit the Frierdiker Rebbe. Why did she come? She came because the Frierdiker Rebbe wanted the Rebbe as a son-in-law — he had a daughter, Chaya Mushka, and he wanted the Rebbe — so they came to speak about the shidduch. Rebbetzin Chana, the Rebbe's mother, said to the Frierdiker Rebbe, "I want a dowry, I want a nadan. I have a good bochur, and I need a nadan — I want a nadan." The Frierdiker Rebbe said, "I would definitely give it to you, but I don't have money. I have no money." She said, "No — just give. Give." That was the word she used — "give." He understood the meaning. After 120 years of the Frierdiker Rebbe, that the Rebbe should be [his successor] — she didn't say it outright, just "give," and the Frierdiker Rebbe understood.

"But how can I do it? I have other, older children, and they'll be jealous. How can I do it?" The Frierdiker Rebbe thought it over and said, "No — the Chassidim are going to choose whom they want." So she understood that it would be good. That's what happened — very interesting.

Then, of course, they became chosson and kallah. The Frierdiker Rebbe and Rebbetzin Nechama Dina were not at the wedding; they were in Yekaterinoslav. My Zeyde was there too. He said that the simcha that night, the night of the wedding, was tremendous — a lot of people came with great joy. My Zeyde got up on the table and began to dance, saying, "I was the melamed of the Rebbe! The Rebbe is now the son-in-law of the Frierdiker Rebbe, and I was his melamed!" He danced all night. That was not my Zeyde's nature — he was usually a quiet person — but here he was dancing on the table because he had been his melamed.

Now, how did my Zeyde have the zechus to become a melamed, a teacher, of the Rebbe? The Rebbe's father and my Zeyde had lived in the city of Podobranka — a city in Russia. Then the Rebbe's father moved to Yekaterinoslav and became the Rav there. He wrote a letter to my Zeyde saying, "We need a shochet." My Zeyde was a shochet. "You can come and be the shochet." My Zeyde was very happy, because he had a large family. But he couldn't leave right away — it took maybe a few weeks, perhaps a month, I'm not sure — until he was ready to go. He wrote to the Rebbe's father, "I'm ready." The Rebbe's father wrote back that the position was already taken — someone else had it. "But I have another position for you — I want you to be the teacher of my children." My Zeyde didn't like that so much, because there was more parnassah in being a shochet than in being a teacher, but it was better than nothing. So he moved to Yekaterinoslav and became the teacher of the Rebbe and the Rebbe's brothers. There were six children in that class, and Reb Nochum Goldschmidt was also there.

The Rebbe had two brothers — one was Berel, and one was Leibel. The Rebbe's name, we know, is Mendel. People in Yekaterinoslav used to say that Reb Levi Yitzchok has nice mebel — "mebel" meaning furniture — [playing on] Mem being the Rebbe's name, Beis being Berel, and Lamed being Leibel.

Now, I remember my Zeyde telling me another story about the Rebbe. The Rebbe's father, when he spoke on Shabbos HaGadol, put on a tallis and delivered the Shabbos HaGadol drasha. People came from all over — talmidei chachamim. The Rebbe's father had a minhag to begin with nigleh, with Gemara, and then move into Kabbalah. He spoke for maybe an hour and a half, two hours, and then he stopped and said, "I don't think people understand what I'm saying." But he pointed and said, "That yingel knows what I'm talking about — he understands." Something like that. The Rebbe was then, I guess, ten or eleven years old.

Many times I asked my Zeyde to tell me how the Rebbe, as a talmid, behaved, how he was taught. My Zeyde never wanted to say. But one time he told me this story, and I want to relate it — and again, I say this is accurate, because I've told this story to a few people, and by the time it passes through ten people it becomes a different story. So I want to set the record straight, exactly the way my Zeyde told it.

My Zeyde gave the children a recess. They were learning Gemara Beitzah. My Zeyde was looking into the Gemara while the children played, and he overheard one boy ask the Rebbe, "Why does the Torah begin with a beis, Bereishis, and not with an aleph?" The Rebbe said, "I don't know." The boy said, "I do know — my father told me. Because beis is brocha, blessing, and beis is the number two. Aleph is number one. Derech eretz kodma laTorah — before you learn Torah, you must have respect; then your learning will be emesdik, true learning." That's what his father had told him.

The Rebbe, listening to this, said, "I also know." And here the Rebbe cited what it says in sefarim — I'll tell you what's in the sefarim, and then what the Rebbe added beyond it. It says in the Bnei Yissaschar, as my Zeyde told me and I wrote down, that the number nine is a very lucky number. Why is nine lucky? Because nine is emes — truth. Aleph is one. Mem is forty — drop the zero, it's four. Tav is four hundred — drop the zeros, it's four. Four plus four plus one is nine. Nine is emes. Therefore every number you multiply by nine, the digits reduce back to nine. Nine times one is nine. Nine times two is eighteen — one plus eight is nine. Nine times three is twenty-seven — two plus seven is nine. And so on, into the millions — because nine is emes, and emes, truth, always returns to itself.

Every number looks different when you write it — one, two, three, four, five, six, seven — they all look different. But there are two numbers that look the same: nine and six. Take a nine, turn it upside down, it becomes a six. Why? Because six is sheker, the opposite of emes. Shin is three hundred — drop the zeros, three. Kuf is one hundred — drop the zeros, one. Reish is two hundred — drop the zeros, two. Three plus one plus two is six. So six is the opposite of emes — that's why nine and six are mirror images of each other.

The Rebbe added this: where is the "head" of the nine? On top. When you write a nine, the circle is on top. Where is the "head" of the six? On the bottom. When you see a yingel whose "head" — his focus — is on top, learning Torah, doing mitzvos, doing what's right, that's emes, that's true. But when you see a yingel whose head is down in gashmiyus, that's sheker. A beheima, a cow, never sees the sky — its head is always down, always. So that is sheker.

Now let's count by threes. Three is a chazaka — when something happens three times, that's established as the way it is. So usually three is a chazaka. If the Torah had begun with an aleph, let's count: aleph, beis, gimel — that's six. Six is sheker. What comes next? Dalet, hey, vav — that's fifteen; one plus five is six. Six is sheker again. And so on through the entire alef-beis until tav — tav doesn't count, I don't know why, but tav doesn't count — so the whole thing would come out sheker.

That's why the Torah begins with a beis. Start counting from beis: beis, gimel, dalet — that's nine. Nine is emes. Hey, vav, zayin — again nine. So it continues as emes all the way to the end, including the tav. And that is why the Torah begins with a beis, and not with an aleph.

This is one of the things I must say is very, very interesting — this is exactly how the story went.

Now, my brother Leibel asked me, "Why were they discussing aleph and beis in the first place?" I said, I guess — I'm not certain — since they were learning Gemara Beitzah, which begins with a beis, that's perhaps why they were discussing it.

In any case, next week we will continue with a few more stories about my Zeyde and the Rebbe's father, and we should merit the geulah shleimah, bimheirah b'yameinu. Im yirtzeh Hashem, next week we'll continue the program. Thank you.