At dawn, on Friday the seventeenth of Av, 5617, a family of
seven people stood upon the deck of a ship, hoping to finally
catch sight of land. The early morning mist gradually faded
to reveal the peacefully sleeping port of Jaffa. What a
contrast to the bustling port of Trieste, Italy, which they
had left days before. Everything here seemed so holy! The
eyes of the seven members of the Hamburger family eagerly
wished to absorb all the holiness they could grasp and they
stood mesmerized and transfixed. It was Chaya Malka
Hamburger, the mother, who shook herself awake, as if from a
trance.
"We must rush! It's Friday. Erev Shabbos, too short a day.
There is so much to do!"
R' Moshe Hamburger was reminded of the time and circumstances
and rushed with his sons to pray, eat a meager breakfast, and
then pack all their belongings. It was midday when the entire
family landed on shore, kissed the earth and thanked Hashem
for the successful trip.
*
Near a synagogue situated in a distant neighborhood in
Pressburg, Hungary, huddled a small group of Jews. In the
dark of night, they were looking into the windows of the
brightly lit synagogue, which they could not enter. Inside, a
committee of `honorary Maskilim' sat around a table,
completely absorbed in their discussion.
The group on the outside, restless and fidgety, kept their
eyes riveted on the people within. "I hope R' Moshe does
something fast, before the meeting is over and it will be too
late," whispered a tall man, R' Velvel the carpenter.
Suddenly there was a strange commotion. A completely black
apparition dropped down from the chimney. A demon? His
mischievous blue eyes were totally incongruous to his black
face and clothes.
The members of the self-appointed committee jumped out of
their seats in fright and stared transfixed as the black man
strode purposefully to the front door, unlocked it and
ushered in the Jews waiting outside.
The committee of Maskilim, suddenly outnumbered, slinked
their way out of the synagogue, protesting and cursing
angrily. "Fools! You think you have the last word? We will
yet teach you a lesson!" cried their head.
It was a temporary victory, and R' Moshe Hamburger knew it
very well. The Maskilim would now renew their efforts to
change the face of the orthodox community of Pressburg and
have their people officially recognized by the government as
its representatives.
*
Chaya Malka Hamburger, wife of R' Moshe, was a very learned
and pious woman. She had been raised by her benevolent and
scholarly brother, R' Lipman Kunstadt of Pressburg, from
early orphancy, and married off. After twenty years of
marriage to R' Moshe, she wasn't at all surprised at her
husband's masquerade and escapade, and just the same,
expected his inevitable words.
"We must move away from here! We must go to Eretz Yisroel! We
can't raise our children in this place. Those accursed
Maskilim will do anything to persecute us, tamper with our
children's education, besmirch us before the Hungarian
authorities. We must go to Eretz Yisroel. That is our only
chance to raise our children in the pure and proper
traditional Jewish way, bederech Yisroel Saba."
Chaya Malka was in agreement. Her husband had been waging a
battle against the heretical Maskilim since boyhood. How
often had she heard the story of how, right after his bar
mitzva, he had been so disgusted by the atmosphere in his
Maskilim- infested town of Novomast, Hungary, that he had
left home and walked all the way to Pressburg. He had
presented himself to the Rosh Yeshiva, the renowned Chasam
Sofer, asking to be accepted in his yeshiva. He was told to
go home and wait until he was older, but the boy was so
determined to stay that stay he did, keeping up with his
studies.
His stubborn diligence paid off, and not long after, he was
accepted as a student in the yeshiva and became a favored
talmid of the Chasam Sofer.
Having just heard from her husband about his daring manuever,
Chaya Malka wondered now how the present Rosh Yeshiva, the
Ksav Sofer, would react. Not that he, G-d forbid, favored the
Maskilim any more than her impetuous husband, but he was more
cautious. Would the family receive his blessing to leave for
Eretz Yisroel? It was unthinkable to leave Pressburg on such
a long journey, for such a critical step in their lives,
without the blessing of the Rov.
As if reading her mind, R' Moshe pulled out a yellowed letter
from his files. It was a blessing from the late Chasam Sofer,
written at the time of their eldest son's bris. The
Rov had blessed them in writing: "Just as you are blessed to
circumcise your son, may you be blessed to raise him to
Torah, chupa and good deeds, in Eretz Yisroel."
As he read the letter aloud, R' Moshe strongly emphasized the
last two words, adding of his own, "In the holy city of
Yerusholayim. See? I have his prophetic blessing, which is an
assurance of success."
He then recalled another blessing of his beloved master.
When the Chasam Sofer had once lain critically ill, R' Moshe
had taken the initiative of going around to all the
talmidim of the yeshiva and making them sign a
petition. Their signature affirmed their commitment to
"donate years of life to our ailing Rov." When it was duly
signed, he took it to show the Chasam Sofer, who lay writhing
on his sickbed. R' Moshe Sofer took a look at the document
and heartily blessed his beloved student. "You will live a
long life!"
Chaya Malka desired in her heart to make the big move, but
was hesitant, nonetheless. It was not easy for the Hamburger
family to just pick itself up and go. So much was involved!
Everyone in town, including the Ksav Sofer, tried to deter
them, but R' Moshe was determined to be rid of the Pressburg
version of Maskilim. Little did he know — or he
probably did — that the battle against these heretics
would have to be resumed on holy soil, this time against the
Zionists. Nevertheless, Chaya Malka, almost fully won over,
but not quite, continued her preparations, with a constant
prayer on her lips.
Funds were raised in the community and on the seventeenth of
Tammuz, 5617, they left Pressburg and miraculously arrived a
month later at Jaffa port.
The blessing of his great master materialized and R' Moshe
lived to the age of eighty-nine. None of his descendents
passed away in his lifetime, which not too many people in
those years, and in Jerusalem of yore, could boast.
