A Yom Kipur With The Kedushas Levi

Once, on the eve of Yom Kippur, a young Torah scholar (avrech) arrived in the town of Yaroslav. It was just before the start of Kol Nidre and suddenly the young avrech appeared in the Shul. Without any words or introductions he went up to the reader's stand and began to chant the Kol Nidre prayer in frightening and hauntingly beautiful melody. Not one of the members present in the Shul could identify the stranger or explain his behavior, but since he was clearly a person of considerable spiritual stature, they allowed him to continue uninterrupted.

After the Maariv prayer the avrech chanted all of the Shirei Yichud (Songs of Unity) and then began to recite Tehillim (Psalms) all the while standing. When the members of the shul arrived back in the morning, they found the arech still standing on his feet absorbed in prayer. As soon as a minyan assembled he began with Adon Olam and continued to lead Shacharis prayer. He himself read from the Torah and chanted the Haftorah. He said Yizhkor and then began the arduous Mussaf prayer. At this point the members were suspicious if he was indeed a mortal human being or some kind of angel that had descended on this awesome day; for his voice and his stamina were other worldly. Then there were times when the avrech was silent and the congregation sang. They themselves reached such heights of exultation that they were sure that he was indeed a mortal and they were his equals. But as the Neilah prayer drew to a close, the congregation, thoroughly swept up by his singing and roaring as he stormed the gates of prayer to bring in Klal Yisrael in Teshuva, felt certain that he could indeed be only an angel.

One of those present that special Yom Kippur, was R' Yaakov Meshullam Orenstein, the author of the work Yeshuos Yaacov. It from him that we know of this whole story. R' Yaacov Meshullam decided to follow the young man after the completion of the services. He went after him to his lodgings to see if he would eat now or not. He saw how he heard the havdalah ceremony from others and then asked his host for some kvickenish (a tasty morsel) to refresh his soul since he was hungry.

They immediately brought him some cake and fruit, but he thundered, "No this is not what I need, bring me a volume of (the Talmudic) tractate Sukkah. With that he retired to his room claiming that he wanted to rest. R' Yaacov Meshullam peeked in the key hole and saw that he opened up his book and started to learn with extraordinary exuberance, not pausing for a minute. R' Yaacov Meshullam could already not stay awake himself, so he left to break his fast and to rest. In the early morning he returned to find that the avrech was still learning and about to complete the final page of the tractate. Only after that did he proffer a sheepish request for a glass of coffee and a bit of cake.

This young avrech was none other than R' Levi Yitzchok of Berditchev, the Kedushas Levi. He is the same R' Levi Yitzchok whose son writes about him in the introduction to his own book Keser Torah, that ". . . he raised up thousands upon thousands of disciples . . . and ignited within them a passion for learning Torah and serving the Creator with love. His own divine service was such that even the angels above were envious of him!"

Simchas Torah On Yom Kippur!

The day before Yom Kippur the air in the city of Lubavitch was already permeated with the holiness of the day. Reb Shmuel, a respected scholar and chasid, sat in a corner of the shul swaying in prayer when the door swung open and a peddler entered the room. He threw himself down on a bench and tossed his pack on the floor. Reb Shmuel inquired, "How are you, brother?"
"Oy," sighed the man. "The exile is dark and terrible. Just today I was walking past the mansion of Squire Lobomirsky. Everyone knows his evil reputation. Whenever I pass that place, I walk as fast as I can to get away from it. Suddenly, some one cried out, 'Hey, Jew!' My blood ran cold. Thank G-d, it was only the squire's servant, who wanted to buy a scarf from me. He told me about a Jewish family imprisoned in the squire's dungeon. They owe him rent, and if they don't pay by tomorrow, they'll all be killed. If only I had that money...what a terrible and dark exile."

By the time the man had finished his tale, Reb Shmuel had left the shul; soon he was knocking at the gates of the squire's mansion. "I must speak with His Excellency," he said to the guard. He was allowed to enter and he proceeded to the room where Lobomirsky sat. When the squire saw the Jew, he was infuriated: "How dare you enter my house! What do you want, Jew?"

"I want to know what is the debt of that poor, unfortunate family you have imprisoned."

The ruthless landowner's eyes lit up with the thought of lining his pockets with the money. "Let me think about it," he smiled slyly and began to calculate: "Well, there's the debt, then there's all the money I put out to feed the whole brood, then there's the penalty payment; there's also the money required to cancel their hanging -- it would have provided good entertainment." At the end of his "calculations," Reb Shmuel was faced with an exorbitant sum.

"Somehow G-d will help me raise that sum," Shmuel replied to the smirking Lobomirsky.

It was getting late. Reb Shmuel went from door to door, telling everyone about the plight of the imprisoned family, and although they were as generous as possible, they themselves were poor. When he had finished his rounds, Reb Shmuel had a pitifully small sum in his hands. "This will never do," he thought to himself. "I must do something else, and fast."

He was walking aimlessly, thinking of his next move, when he looked up and found himself in front of a tavern. The sound of loud, drunken voices emerged from within, and Shmuel was seized with the thought that just perhaps his money was waiting for him inside, if only he could figure out how to get it. As soon as he entered, he was sickened by the smell of liquor and stale smoke. A group of card players looked up, surprised to see a Chasidic Jew in their midst. "What do you want, Jew?" "I am here on a mission of mercy. The lives of an entire family hang in the balance. I must raise a large sum of money." One of the players replied, "Well, if you can down this beaker of vodka, I just might give you this money," and he pointed to a towering stack of gold coins. Reb Shmuel was never much of a drinker, but what choice did he have? He downed the vodka, and true to his word, the card player handed over the money. In quick succession, the other players offered their winnings if he would drink two more huge cups of vodka.

Reb Shmuel's eyes were beginning to cross, but the glimmering piles of coins steadied his resolve. An hour after he had entered the tavern, he staggered out with his pockets bulging and stumbled in the direction of the squire's mansion.

The squire couldn't believe his eyes, but he greedily accepted the gold and released the grateful family who had barely escaped death.

Reb Shmuel could barely put one foot in front of the other; his eyes no longer focused, but, he still remembered the holy day. He managed to get to the shul, where he promptly collapsed in a heap. The worshippers were dressed in their white robes, looking so much like the ministering angels. They were startled to see Reb Shmuel snoring away, dressed in his weekday clothes which showed evidence of his tavern experience. "What could have come over him?" they wondered.

Reb Shmuel lay asleep throughout the evening of prayers which marked the beginning of the holiest day. His snoring provided a constant accompaniment to the heartfelt prayers rising from the congregation. The prayers ended, Psalms were recited, and the shul emptied out. Reb Shmuel slept on.

At the first morning light, the worshippers returned to the shul for the long day of prayers. Reb Shmuel was beginning to stir. They watched curiously as he opened his bleary eyes and stood up. Walking straight to the bima, Reb Shmuel banged on the wood with his fist, and in a booming voice, exclaimed: "Know that G-d, He is the L-rd; there is none other then Him."

The congregation fell into confusion. What was Reb Shmuel doing reciting the words of the Simchat Torah prayers?! Why, didn't he realize that today was Yom Kippur? Suddenly the rabbi rose and turned toward the congregation: "Leave Reb Shmuel alone. He has far outpaced us. With the great deed he has done, his atonement is complete, and he is waiting for us at Simchat Torah!"

3

Ayal was the 11-year-old son of an Israeli diplomat who worked at the Israeli Consulate in New York. At a party celebrating the release of the Jewish hostages in Entebbe (July 1976) he had begun having severe headaches.

The doctor said it was a virus and recommended bed rest. After a few weeks the headaches disappeared. But then one day, Ayal woke up with a stabbing pain on the right side of his head. The doctor sent Ayal for tests.

For the next few weeks the tension and sadness in the air was palpable. Although his father smiled and his mother patted him on the head, he noticed their red and swollen eyes. Something was wrong. Ayal demanded to know what they were hiding from him. After much hesitation, Ayal's father leveled with his son, telling him the doctors had discovered a tumor. He did not tell Ayal that the doctors had given his son three months to live.

The eve of Yom Kippur, 1976. Jews had come from all over the metropolitan area to spend the holidays with the Lubavitcher Rebbe. They stood for hours waiting to receive honey cake from the Rebbe along with a blessing for a good and sweet year.

A friend who worked at the Israeli Consulate had suggested to Ayal's father that they get a blessing from the Rebbe. The Rebbe's miracles were well known, and what better way to spend the holy day of Yom Kippur than with the Rebbe. A Lubavitcher chasid who regularly visited the Consulate made arrangements for a place for them to stay, and now they awaited the Rebbe's blessing.

The Rebbe usually smiled at children, but that Yom Kippur eve he did not smile at Ayal. The Rebbe wished father and son a good and sweet year with a very somber look on his face.

They ate the pre-fast meal with the host family and then went to Lubavitch World Headquarters, 770 Eastern Parkway in Brooklyn, to participate in the holy day's prayers. The next day, as well, Ayal and his father were in the synagoguge most of the day.

The afternoon of Yom Kippur wore on. Ayal's father sent him to their host's home to break his fast and rest until Ne'ila, the final prayer of Yom Kippur.

Yom Kippur was nearly over. The congregation waited expectantly for the final prayers of the holy day to be recited. All eyes were on the Rebbe. The Rebbe suddenly raised his tallis and gazed at the crowd with a penetrating look on his face before turning to his secretary. The secretary then announced that all the children in the syngagogue should go up to the Rebbe's platform. Paths were made for the children or they were passed overhead hand-to-hand.

The Rebbe watched and waited. "Why did I send Ayal home?" Ayal's father berated himself. "He could have been standing next to the Rebbe! He left a long time ago. Why hasn't he come back yet?"

Hundreds of children were on the platform. The chazan (cantor) waited for a sign from the Rebbe to conclude the prayers. But the Rebbe was waiting. Suddenly another child arrived. It was Ayal. He was lifted over the crowd to the Rebbe's platform. Immediately the Rebbe led the singing of Avinu Malkeinu - Our Father, Our King. Those who stood near the Rebbe heard the Rebbe crying.

The prayers were over. The Rebbe smiled at the children, all of the children.

Ayal and his family bid goodbye to their hosts and returned to their home. Later that night Ayal announced to his parents, "My headache is gone. I want you to take me for tests tomorrow."

They had an appointment for more tests scheduled in four days time. But Ayal insisted that he was perfectly fine and that he wanted to be tested immediately to prove it. His parents were able to move the appointment up.

A few days later during supper, Ayal's father burst into the house and while crying and laughing managed to say, "You were right!"

Ayal and his father went to thank the Rebbe personally on Simchat Torah. The Israeli Ambassador to the U.N., Mr. Chayim Herzog, took a group of people who worked at the Consulate to the Rebbe, Ayal and his father among them. They were given a place near the Rebbe, who gave them special attention. When the Rebbe turned to Ayal's father, the latter presented his son to him.

"Thank you Rebbe. I am well," said Ayal shyly. Ayal's father emotionally added, "The Rebbe saved his life!" The Rebbe smiled and waved away the comments saying, "Give thanks to G-d, and always remember that He did this miracle for you."

Adapted from Beis Moshiach Magazine

2

by Menachem Ziegelboim

Rabbi Betzalel Schiff was born in the former Soviet Union. Today, he resides in Israel and does much on behalf of the Jewish people. He relates:

While still a young boy in second grade my father passed away. My mother also died at a young age as a result of a tragic incident. This happened a week before my wedding.

Those days were fraught with persecution and much suffering. The fear in keeping mitzvot (commandments) was tremendous. Any action taken on behalf of Torah and Judaism involved actual danger. Since I no longer had parents and I lived alone, I took on various missions on behalf of my fellow Jews, including many which were fraught with danger.

One of my jobs was to procure arba minim (the lulav, etrog, etc.) for Jews in Samarkand. I traveled to Georgia in order to pick them for the Sukot holiday. I left right after Rosh HaShana so that I could return in time for Yom Kippur.

One year I arrived in Tbilisi in Georgia where the usual policeman awaited me. He knew me, and he brought me to the place where palm trees grew in an area alongside the sea. Since I paid him handsomely, the policeman waited respectfully and even made sure I had a ladder and a saw. I cut down ten lulavim (palm branches), which was enough for all the members of the congregation. Then I went on to Kutaisi where I cut down hadasim (myrtle), which grew plentifully in the courtyard of the shul. That is what I did each year.

One year, when I finished my job and wanted to return home to Samarkand before Yom Kippur, I discovered that no tickets were available. I offered large amounts of money, triple the usual price, but not a single ticket was available.

I knew a Jew who had a pharmacy. I figured he might be able to help me. "If there is no ticket to Samarkand, then at least get me to Moscow where my brother is," I begged. I hoped that I would be able to spend Yom Kippur there with him.

The man tried his best but he too failed. In the end he arranged accommodations for me at a special motel near the airport, hoping that perhaps the next morning, Yom Kippur eve, I would be able to get on a flight to Samarkand or at least to Moscow.

When I entered the room I saw a young man asleep on his bed. I got into the other bed and fell asleep. The next morning I got up early and ran over to the airport to see whether there were any flights. I saw that I had time until the flights would be leaving, so I returned to the room. The other man had awoken and was sitting up in bed. I wanted to take out my tefilin and pray, but his presence bothered me. I asked him whether he was leaving soon or would be staying on in the room.

"I'm in no rush and I will be staying here," he said with a shrug. "Why, do you need something?" he asked.

"Yes, you're disturbing me," I said honestly and bravely. "Tonight we have a great holiday and now I want to pray."

"So pray," he said, "I'm not bothering you."

I had no choice and so I turned to the wall, put on my tefilin and began praying. Afterwards I turned around and saw that the young man had gotten dressed in the meantime. He was wearing the uniform of an officer in the Red Army. When I saw his medals and rank I realized I was in deep trouble. I thought to myself, "Well, that's that. I put myself in danger and now I'm in for it."

I didn't know what to do for I had been caught red-handed putting on tefilin. I was still in shock and wondering what to say when he quietly said to me, "What holiday do we have today?"

For a moment there I didn't realize what he had meant, and I said, "Tonight is Yom Kippur." I looked up and saw him sitting on the bed. His head was down and he was deep in thought. Then I heard him sigh and say to himself, "Ah, Moshe Moshe, what's with you? Even things like this you don't remember?" and he burst into tears.

After he calmed down he turned to me and said, "What do you want now?"

"I want to return home before the holiday," I said.

"Where do you want to go?"

"To Tashkent," I answered.

"So come with me," he said abruptly, and he got up and left the room.

We went outside where I saw a military vehicle and driver. He told the driver to take us to the airport. When we arrived there he inquired as to where the planes to Tashkent were (which is near Samarkand). We went out to the runway and nobody dared to stop him or say a word. His high rank aroused the respect of all. When he found the plane to Tashkent he said to the pilot, "Where are you going?"

"To Tashkent."

"Take him," he ordered.

The pilot didn't have much of a choice in the matter. I boarded the plane and managed to reach home before Yom Kippur.

Before we parted the officer asked me, "If I want to find you in Tashkent, how will I do that?" I told him to come to the shul and ask for Betzalel. A few months later he actually came to Tashkent and looked me up.

Reprinted from Beis Moshiach Magazine

The Baal Shem Tov's L'chaim That Elevated A Soul

The Baal Shem Tov was once travelling with his disciples in their carriage. The horses came to a halt in the middle of a field. The Baal Shem Tov and his disciples disembarked, prayed the afternoon service and sat down to eat. Then, the Baal Shem Tov dug a little hole in the ground, poured a small amount of whiskey into the hole and said, "l'chaim!" The curious disciples asked for an explanation and were told the following story:

Many years ago there lived a man who had an only daughter. When she came of age he found a good husband for her, a young man of sterling character who studied Torah all day. The father supported the couple and the son-in-law pursued his studies. When the father passed away, his daughter began managing the store and business, and the young man continued his Torah studies.

Now, there lived in the area a minister who was especially devoted to trying to win learned Jews over to Christianity. When he found out about the young husband, he set his mind to finding a way to begin a dialogue with him.

Every day the minister would come to the Jewish store to make a purchase and ingratiate himself to the young woman. Once, when the minister came, the wife confided that her husband was ill. The minister commiserated, offered his wishes for her husband's recovery, and asked if he could pay a visit to cheer him up. The woman agreed, and the minister finally met the object of his plan.

The next time the young man took ill, the minister suggested that he come to his fine estate to recuperate. He advised the young man to bring his own servant along to prepare kosher food for his stay. The invitation, the minister explained, was being extended in gratitude for the many happy hours of conversation they had enjoyed in the past and would have in the future.

The invitation was accepted. Meanwhile the minister had succeeded in bribing the young man's cook to prepare food that was not kosher. As is explained in Jewish mystical texts, one effect of eating non-kosher food is that it dulls the mind and heart, preventing an individual from perceiving G-dliness. Unfortunately, such became the case. The minister's friendly overtures and kind words had an effect on the young man and after a period of time he decided to convert to Christianity. He abandoned his wife, married the daughter of the minister, and was showered with wealth and privileges.

The young man bought himself property with an orchard and a house. In charge of overseeing the orchard was a very old man who lived on the grounds. One day, when the young man and his wife went for a stroll, they heard the caretaker weeping as if his heart would break. The old man could not be consoled and would not reveal why he was crying.

The matter touched the heart of the young man. He was determined to discover the cause of the caretaker's grief. Eventually the caretaker revealed the cause of his anguished cries.

"I am a Jew," whispered the old man, "a descendent of Marranos who were forced to convert to Christianity in Spain. In my heart I have always remained faithful to my G-d. The Jews have one day a year which is called Yom Kippur, a day for repentance and seeking atonement. Today is Yom Kippur, and that is why I am crying," he finished.

When the young man heard this tale, he was overcome with emotion. He vowed to return to the true faith of his people. He revealed that he, too, was a Jew, and explained how he had reached his current position. After the two of them had wept together, a thought occurred to the old man. "Why are you crying? You are very rich. You must certainly have the means to travel to another country, to begin life anew as a Jew."

The young man did as the elderly caretaker suggested. He repented of his former ways and once again trod the path of the righteous.

When her husband disappeared the gentile wife did not know what to do. Having seen him in the company of the old man, she asked him if he knew of her husband's whereabouts. She continued to badger him until he revealed the entire story. The woman was so impressed by the power of the Jewish faith that she sold all her possessions, left her country and converted to Judaism. (In those days, in that country, it was against the law to undergo conversion to Judaism).

After all this took place the elderly caretaker began to think, "What is to become of me? I am responsible for two people living a Torah life, yet I myself am still here." Despite his lack of means, he decided to wander until he reached a place where he could live openly as a Jew. He began his travels, but before reaching his final destination, he suddenly died.

"And this spot," continued the Baal Shem Tov, pointing to the small hole he had dug, "is the final resting place of the old man. When his soul ascended to Heaven it was met by two camps of angels, each arguing his fate. The defending angels claimed that he decided to return to Judaism and had even taken the first few steps, even though he had not been able to complete his mission. The prosecuting angels argued that he be barred from entry, as he had not actually done what he set out to do.

"The case was left open, and since his death the old man's soul has wandered about, unable to find a resting place. Now, however, in the merit of our prayers on this spot and our saying 'l'chaim,' his soul has been elevated to where it belongs. May his soul be bound up in the bond of eternal life," the Baal Shem Tov concluded.