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Home
and Family
They All Return to You
by N. Beer
[Synopsis: A Jew acknowledges his paternal heritage,
morasha kehillas Yaakov, when he gets up each morning.
Torah is there for the taking. This story shows the unifying
power of Torah, and how it can transform lives. We have
briefly met R' Feivel Kalmanovitz, the widower pensionnaire,
Yaakov Shafer, the supermarket manager, and his yeshiva
dropout helper, seventeen-year-old Motty, and R' Zev, who
gives the daily Daf Yomi shiur. We carry on
with...]
Abe Shorr, a famous and successful lawyer, had studied in a
Hesder yeshiva (National Religious) in his youth and his
Torah knowledge was just a few levels beyond perfunctory.
With the years, and with financial success, he had sunk deep
in the totally secular financial world. Only lately had he
begun to feel the weight of years upon his shoulders and the
realization had dawned that it was time to enrich his
spiritual world, as well. His soul prompted him to look for
`something extra,' an added dimension in life beyond material
success. At this receptive stage, he had come upon an ad
posted on an electric pole in his neighborhood inviting the
public to a daily shiur. "Ah, this is exactly what I
need!" he had exclaimed to himself at first. His second
thought was, "Whenever will I find the time in my busy
schedule?" And what would his colleagues say? He read further
and noted the time of this shiur: 6:15. This would not
interfere with any appointments etc. Reassured, he found
himself at Rechov Beit Habechira 5 the very next Sunday
morning -- and every morning since.
*
The bottleneck on the Tel Aviv highway was severe with cars
moving at a snail's pace. The airconditioning was working
full force but Yechiel Ozeri felt suffocated. He would again
be late to his bakery in the heart of Tel Aviv. An optimist
by nature, he realized that fretting would not make things
better and decided to create an atmosphere of serenity. He
slid a tape into the car recorder, expecting to hear some
music but to his astonishment, he heard a deep, throaty voice
talking to him, directly to him, saying things meant for his
very ears. It was a fascinating talk on a Torah subject.
Where had it found its way among his pile of Oriental music
tapes? Ah, he remembered. The previous day, when he had
stopped off to fill up on gasolene, someone had handed it to
him and he had automatically put it with the rest of the
tapes.
The rabbi's words were heartwarming and convincing. He spoke
about man's ultimate purpose in this world, about temporary
time vs. eternity. It had been years since Yechiel had heard
such truthful words presented in such a riveting manner, with
a good measure of humor thrown in. He felt the message
sinking into his heart. Yechiel defined himself as a
traditional Jew, a Jew at heart. He attended shul on
Shabbos, bought himself occasional aliyos and gave to
charity. But now, suddenly, he felt that it was not enough,
not sufficient to earn him the label of a "good Jew."
"Dear brothers; if you truly want to strengthen yourselves,
if you want added power to fight your evil inclination, there
is one tried and tested method. You must study Torah. You
must attend Torah classes, for the light within the Torah has
the power to improve a person. New classes are being
established all the time, and if you are really serious, you
will find the one that is right for you..." resounded the
voice of the speaker.
Yechiel had never really acquired a decent education. He
recalled the kutaab and the mori in Yemen and
the love that had been instilled in him and his friends for
Torah. He was still able to pick up any text and read it from
all four sides, for in Yemen, texts had been so scarce that
the students had huddled around a single book, five or six
apiece, and learned to read from every which-way. They had
learned to read and understand, but above all, to love and
revere study. Suddenly, the smells of the distant past rose
up and he felt a single tear roll down his cheek.
Traffic continued to crawl along, leaving Yechiel at leisure
to evoke the past. What hope can there be for me? he
asked himself. It's been so many years since I opened up a
sefer. I'd be lost... A bitter taste of lost
opportunities filled his mouth and heart. The voice of the
speaker intruded upon his sad thoughts. "...and one of the
familiar tricks of the yetzer hora to prevent you from
learning is to convince you that you are incapable of it. He
knows, that wily Satan, that once you begin learning, you'll
have the sharpened weapons to fight him, and that's what he's
afraid of. He is capable of producing a hundred and fifty
excuses why you can't and shouldn't go and learn. To one
person, he'll say, `You're too old,' and to the other,
`You're still young. You have plenty of time. Life is still
ahead of you.' He'll convince a third one that his head is
not equipped for study and a fourth, that he's too busy and
would never grasp such intellectual material. And so on, to
each his particular excuse. If we can identify his methods in
advance, we will be able to fight Satan and win the battle!"
Yechiel listened, and began to think that the speaker was
talking to him personally. Perhaps he really should seek to
join some shiur?
Traffic picked up speed ahead and soon Yechiel found himself
in front of his bakery and before long, he was totally
immersed in his everyday problems. The bustling activity was
enough to make him forget his morning's resolution. That
evening, however, when he returned home, weary from a full
day's work, Yechiel found the local weekly advertising flyer
in his mailbox. He pulled it out and took it upstairs where
he absentmindedly leafed through it before throwing it away.
His attention was caught by a small ad announcing a new Daf
Yomi class that had just opened in the new neighborhood shul.
At any other time, he wouldn't have given it a second glance,
but after the morning's lecture, it seemed to say something
to him... He read it again and again, studied the details,
and couldn't help noticing that the time fit perfectly into
his daily schedule. Finally, after some deliberation, he
decided to give it a try the upcoming Sunday. And ever since,
he had attended it studiously, and added his natural
individual zest for life to the study group.
*
R' Yitzchok Moriah was a Torah scholar who lived in the
neighborhood and took pride in it; he felt the importance of
upgrading its quality. This is why he was very pleased to see
the ad announcing the new Daf Yomi class. Every Torah class
enhanced the neighborhood and raised its spiritual level, he
thought to himself, and decided to join it as well. He had
two reasons: first, up till then, he had not had any
structure for the Daf Yomi study and he very much wanted to
join the worldwide movement as part of a group. Secondly, he
felt that his knowledge would add stature and depth to the
class.
R' Dovid Cohen, a good friend, heard about the shiur
from R' Yitzchok, and admitted that it would add much to his
own general Torah knowledge, a very important aspect for a
melamed of a higher grade. And so, he joined the group
as well.
*
Yoske Weitzman, the locksmith, attended the seven o'clock
minyan but always came early. At some point, he
discovered the existence of the small group studying in one
corner of the shul, and while his soul thirsted for
knowledge, he still found reading texts very difficult. He
now knew that there was a name for his particular `learning
difficulty', that it was called `dyslexia', but as a child,
he had been labeled `lazy' and `uncooperative.' He had
suffered a lot, and many scars still remained upon his ego
that would never be erased, he often thought bitterly to
himself.
Yoske began sitting on the sidelines and watching the group,
and soon had sidled closer to listen in as well and take
pleasure from the mussar he was able to understand and
apply to himself. He appreciated the remarks thrown in by the
participants and soon found himself coming earlier to shul so
as to hear more of the shiur. One morning, the
maggid shiur mentioned the commandment of making a
fence upon a roof for safety's sake. R' Zev went into detail
about the prescribed halachic height of the maake, the
blessing one recited upon erecting it, and other aspects of
this mitzva. Yoske could not refrain from asking a
pertinent question on the subject, which involved his
profession. The participants listened with interest to his
informed questions and the knowledgeable replies of the
lecturer.
"But why are you sitting so far off?" asked Yechiel Ozeri in
his friendly manner. "Pull up your chair and join us!" He
even moved his chair aside to make room for Yoske. And this
is how the locksmith became a permanent attendent of the
shiur as well. He didn't always keep pace with the
text, but his mind and heart were open to receive the
knowledge imparted and he savored the sweet taste of the
study along with the others.
*
Thus did the shiur carry on daily. The group,
comprised of people of such different backgrounds and types,
soon cohered to a strong unit of good friends. And when R'
Feivel failed to come for a few days, they were concerned.
"His son is one of my customers," said Yaakov Shafer. "I'll
call him and find out what's up." On the following day, he
appeared, a worried look on his face. "R' Feivel had a heart
attack. But he's over the worst and is beginning to recover,"
he updated the group. "His son says how upset he is to be
missing the Daf Yomi shiur. I think it would be nice
if we could visit him in the hospital." The group then made
up a schedule of visitors which even included Motty Levi, who
was embarrassed at first, but let himself be convinced to be
slotted on the visitors' list.
Conclusion: next week
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