The Shortest Shavuot Sermon

The Shavuot prayers had ended and the Chasidim of Reb Chaim of Sanz had gathered to receive the Rebbe's blessings and to hear him recite kiddush and partake of some wine and cakes. They lingered, waiting for the elderly Tzadik to complete his lengthy prayers until he finally emerged from the shul.
Reb Chaim had become legendary for his great compassion for the poor and needy and his generous dispensing of charity, but still, his followers were surprised at his words as he took his place at the table.
"When I was a young man, I used to deliver a carefully honed discourse every Shavuot to a group of great scholars. Now, however, I am an old man, and I don't have the strength for that kind of learned give and take. Instead, I will deliver to you only a very short word: I need one thousands reinish for a needy cause, and I will not recite Kiddush until you decide between yourselves how much each of you will bring to me. I need the money in cash, as soon as the holiday is over. I leave you to arrange it between yourselves. At that, the Rebbe left the room.
The Chasidim had no choice but to discuss how to meet their Rebbe's demand. Four of the wealthiest divided the entire amount between themselves, and a delegate was sent to the Rebbe to assure him that the matter was taken care of. Only then did Reb Chaim make Kiddush.
No sooner had the holiday ended than the entire sum of money was given to the Rebbe who handed it to a certain pauper who needed it for a dowry for his daughter.

Chassidic Sukkah Decorations!

Rabbi Chaim of Sanz had a special custom. Every year before Sukkos, Rabbi Chaim and his sons would collect money from community leaders and businessmen. As soon as they gathered it, they gave it away to the poor, so that they too would have enough for the holiday. Needless to say, they also had lots of guests and learned Torah in the sukkah.

One year, Rabbi Chaim was able to distribute a very large amount of money to the needy. As his guests entered the sukkah, his young son saw that it glowed with a special beauty. Yet not one decoration could be seen. "What makes this sukkah so beautiful?" the boy asked.

Rabbi Chaim explained, "Many people decorate their sukkos with all kinds of very expensive ornaments. But my sukkah is different. Its beauty comes from giving tzedokah and performing other mitzvos. This is a beauty that anyone can acquire."

A Match Made In Heaven

"Who is this young man studying with such concentration?" wondered Rabbi Yehoshua Heshel. "He seems to be unusually dedicated to his studies."

Yehoshua Heshel was a son of the renowned Rabbi Baruch Frankel Teomim.

He had come to Tarnogrod on business. Having completed his business affairs, he went to the synagogue to spend his spare time studying. Seeing the young man sparked an idea in his mind. "I must find out who he is," he resolved. "Perhaps he will make a good husband for my sister!"

Yehoshua Heshel struck up a conversation with the young student.

"What are you learning?" the rabbi inquired of him. The young man told him. Soon the two of them were in a deep Talmudic discussion.

"This young man has a wonderful mind and a deep comprehension of the Torah," concluded Yehoshua Heshel, growing more and more amazed. "And what is your name, young man?" Yehoshua Heshel asked.

"My name is Chaim Halberstam," he replied. "I am the son of Reb Aryeh Leibush, Rabbi of Premishlan."

Yehoshua Heshel noticed that Chaim was lame in one foot. "Well, no matter," he said. "He is still an exceptional young man."

He felt he had to let his father know about him immediately, and wrote his father a letter about Chaim. The letter left out one important fact, though; the young man's limp.

It was Divine providence that when the letter arrived, Reb Aryeh Leibush, Chaim's father, was just then sitting and talking with Rabbi Baruch Frankel Teomin, Yehoshua Heshel's father. He had come to transact some business and had stopped to pay his respects to the great sage.

"Well, well," chuckled Rabbi Baruch Frankel. "Look what we have here! A letter from my son suggesting that your son meet my daughter."

His visitor was astonished by the coincidence. "Really? May I see the letter?" he requested.

"Would you agree to the shiduch?" Rav Baruch Frankel asked.

"It is obviously a shiduch made in heaven!" was the enthusiastic response.

And so the match between the Halberstam and the Frankel Teomim families was struck.

Soon word got out. What a simcha! But in the yeshiva of Rabbi Teomim, his students greeted the news skeptically.

"How does our rabbi make a match for his daughter with a perfect stranger? We must see him first to make sure he's fit to marry our rabbi's daughter."

Two students were chosen to go secretly to Tarnogrod to sneak a look at the young Chaim. They returned with appalling news. The groom was lame.

Somehow the news reached Rochel Feigel. She was horrified. She came running to her father. "Father, Father, how could you do this to me?" she cried, tears of shame and anger running down her face.

"What is it, my daughter?" asked her father, alarmed.

"How could you make me a shiduch with a cripple?" she sobbed.

"Two of your students saw the groom. He's lame! He walks with a limp!"

"How could it be?" He was incredulous. "I want you to know one thing. I will not force you to marry him. If after meeting him, you don't like him, we will call off the shiduch!"

Yehoshua Heshel appeared before his father. He could see his father was livid with anger and he guessed why.

"I trusted you and you deceived me!" Rabbi Baruch Frankel accused his son. "Why didn't you tell me the young man is handicapped?"

"I was afraid you wouldn't consider him. Please, father, see him for yourself. Once you meet and talk to him you'll forget about his limp right away."

His father agreed and Chaim was sent for.

Chaim agreed to come for he sensed that something was amiss.

Upon his arrival, he asked questions, and the people admitted that the bride was unhappy. "Let me speak to her privately," Chaim requested. Chaim and Rochel Feigel met for the first time.

He was not a bad-looking young man, Rochel Feigel confessed to herself, but he definitely had a limp. "Please, would you mind looking in the mirror?" Chaim asked her.

She thought, "What a strange request!" but she walked over to the mirror. What she saw in it made her gasp in fright. There in the mirror was her exact likeness, except for one thing...she was lame in one foot.

"You were supposed to be born lame," Chaim explained to her gently, "but knowing that I would be your partner in life, I asked heaven that I should be the lame one, instead of you."

After a moment Chaim added, "Now, do you still refuse to marry me?"

His words touched Rochel Feigel's heart. After he had revealed this fact, how could she object to the shiduch anymore? In fact, she thought, she rather liked the young man. She walked out of the room with a smile on her lips.

Everyone respected and liked the new young groom, but none more than the Rabbi of Leipnik. "My son-in-law's foot might be crooked, but his brain is very straight," he declared.

In later years, Reb Chaim Halberstam became none other than the holy Sanzer Rebbe, of blessed memory, to whom thousands turned for spiritual guidance.

Excerpted from: Why The Baal Shem Tov Laughed, by Sterna Citron, published by Jason Aronson.

The Divrei Chaim's Blessing

As related by Menachem Arye Yehuda Klozner of Beersheva

The year was 1935. I can remember how we all sat on plump cushions, listening with rapt attention to our grandmother's stories. Oh, how we loved our Bubbe Rivka-Faya's stories! All of us were there: my brother, Betzalel Boruch, and my two younger sisters, Rochel and Penina, and myself.

We lived in the city of Arad, in Transylvania. Every summer Bubbe, who lived 80 kilometers away, would come and stay with us. In those days this wasn't a trip you could manage more than once a year.

Bubbe always wore a dark-colored dress and head kerchief, and was never far from her battered copy of Tzeina U'reina [a book about the weekly Torah portion written specially for women]. Our grandmother was a G-d-fearing woman who utilized her every spare minute for learning and praying.

We children were always begging her to tell us stories. For us it was a great treat to hear about how she had attended cheder as a little girl or her reaction to meeting her red-headed bridegroom, our Zeide Zev, for the first time. Another thing Bubbe often mentioned was her fervent wish to receive word from her youngest son, who had emigrated to America during World War I and hadn't been heard from since. (Thank G-d, her wish would be fulfilled in 1938.)

One morning she told us the following tale:

When Zeide Zev became Bar Mitzva in 1875, his father, our great-grandfather Menachem, had taken him from their native Galitzia to the famous tzadik of Sanz, Rabbi Chaim. Accommodations were no problem, as there were always extended family members willing to open their doors.

In a private audience with the Sanzer Rebbe, our great-grandfather had requested a blessing for himself and his son, which the Rebbe granted. Afterward, as they were about to leave, the tzadik had looked at the Bar Mitzva boy for a long time before adding a blessing for long life. "And you will merit to go up to the Land of Israel, where you will be gathered unto your fathers," he concluded.

Remember, we were hearing this story in 1935. At that time our Zeide Zev was already 74 years old, and had never even considered emigrating to the Holy Land. We didn't really know what to make of the story.

But unforeseen changes were about to take place. The Second World War broke out, and the Romanian regime was replaced by the Iron Guard. Jews from all over the country began to congregate in the big cities. In time, Zeide Zev, Bubbe Rivka-Faya, and several aunts and uncles and their children came to live in our city.

I was one of the first members of my family to leave Europe. In 1944, even before the War ended, I made aliya with my cousin Betzalel. Back in Transylvania, the city of Arad passed from hand to hand. One day it was captured by the Hungarians, the next it was under Russian control, and the next it was considered to be Romanian territory. Finally, the War was over. Bubbe Rivka-Faya, may her saintly memory protect us, passed away in Europe in 1946.

In 1950, my parents, aunts, uncles and cousins boarded the ship "Transylvania" bound for Israel. (This ship would actually transport most of Romania's Jews to Israel after the War.) Our family was almost completely reunited. Only Zeide Zev and my Uncle Binyomin remained behind.

In 1951, the "Transylvania" made its final voyage, with our 91-year-old grandfather, Zeide Zev, and Uncle Binyomin and Aunt Sarah as passengers. It was a Sunday when my grandfather set foot on the holy soil of Eretz Yisrael, in Petach Tikva.

Unfortunately, by the time Zeide Zev arrived he was suffering from pneumonia. Exhausted and in a weakened state, he was nonetheless overjoyed at having merited to arrive in the Holy Land. But it was obvious that he was fading fast. Over the next few days he did not stop thanking G-d for bringing him to Israel and allowing him to be reunited with his family.

For five days Zeide clung to life, but on Friday morning his soul returned to its Maker. My wife and I, who were then living in Haifa, had planned on coming to Petach Tikva for Shabbat to see him, but Divine Providence would not allow it.

Zeide Zev was buried in the ancient cemetery in Petach Tikva. His tombstone bears the following inscription: "The tzadik's blessings were fulfilled in him. He merited to go up to the Holy Land, but much to our sorrow, was taken from our midst just a few days later. He passed away on 10 Adar I, 5711, aged 91."

Our eldest son was born two months later, and naturally, was named after his great-grandfather, Dov Zev. The story of the tzadik's blessing, and how it took 81 years for it to come about in all its details, is a favorite in our family. For it teaches that we must always have faith in the words of a tzadik, whose holy utterances G-d fulfills.

Translated from Sichat HaShavua