Speech is one medium of communication; writing is another. A
third is the outpouring of a heart.
But wait — the heart feels, it doesn't talk!
In Tehillim, though, we find that Dovid Hamelech says,
"For Your sake, my heart says, `Seek out My face'; I will
seek out Your face, Hashem" (27:7).
Sometimes one's heart speaks. When it swells with emotions
that overflow, it speaks . . . it communicates.
I gave expression to my heart's outpouring upon the
petiroh of the teacher and rebbe of my youth
— back in the Lomzha Yeshiva in Petach Tikva between
5704 and 5707 (1944-47) — in what I said while among
the family and senior talmidim during the
shivah, in the niftar's home. I told his sons
that their father was the source of all my feelings of love
for Torah and its sweetness that I have been conveying to
others throughout my life.
I am fortunate to have had teachers who instructed me and
illuminated my path in life for me, from when I set out in my
childhood and in youth. They enriched me with sensitivity to
love of Torah and its sweetness and with sensitivity to the
meaning of Chazal's statements. One of them was their
distinguished father zt'l. The other was my teacher
and rebbe, HaRav Eliyahu Eliezer Dessler zt'l,
the mashgiach of Yeshivas Ponovezh while I learned
there, between 5707 and 5710.
Since then decades have passed, yet their clarity of insight
into the meaning of Chazal's teachings and the sensitivity of
how they conveyed it, remain etched upon me as freshly as if
I had heard them today.
I described to the family my friendship with their father
from my younger years, as a fourteen and fifteen year old in
the Lomzha Yeshiva in Petach Tikva. It was then that he
transmitted love of Torah and hearty satisfaction in learning
to me in such abundant measure as has enabled me to convey
them further, to sons and disciples, over generations,
be'ezras Hashem.
Let me start from the beginning.
There is a wonderful passage in the Ramban's commentary on
the words, "Love your friend as [you love] yourself
(Vayikra 19:18). Towards the end of his remarks [on
posuk 17] when he defines the essence of the command
to "love," he concludes, ". . . but he should love bestowing
an abundance of good upon his friend, as a person does to
himself, and should impose no limits on this love."
This feeling, of there being no limits to his love, was one
which his talmidim felt immediately, on their first
meeting with him. That captured me. Right away, at the first
meeting with him I witnessed genuine, boundless love.
I came to Yeshivas Lomzha in Petach Tikva after completing
the third level at Yeshivas Beis Yosef, Bnei Brak under my
teacher and rebbe the Steipler ztvk'l. The very
best bochurim from the yeshivos abroad were learning
there then, and we adopted their approaches to learning.
There were two chaburos that were delivered twice a
week by the leading students in the yeshiva, HaRav Simchah
Kaplan zt'l (who later became the Chief Rabbi of
Tzfas) and my teacher and rebbe, the Rosh Yeshiva.
From the very first chaburah I heard from him, his
clarity and joy in delivering novel insights swept me away.
This influenced me profoundly, to the point where I was drawn
after him and became utterly attached to him.
When announcing Rosh Chodesh we first pray for, "a life of
fear of Heaven and fear of sin" and later repeat the request,
asking for, "life with love of Torah and fear of Heaven
within us." This second kind of yiras Shomayim is a
higher level, one that comes from love of Torah. This was
something that we young talmidim saw tangibly in the
Rosh Yeshiva.
I shall never forget him learning mussar in the
afternoon of erev Rosh Hashonoh in the ezras
noshim. In an agitated, tear-laden voice he repeated the
statement in Shaarei Teshuvoh, "For on Rosh Hashonoh
man is judged and his verdict is sealed on Yom Kippur," again
and again.
He was descended from Torah nobility and we saw how he
conducted himself with royal bearing — with awareness
of his station and reluctance to be swayed by things that
were insignificant.
I would like to mention an incident that has remained with me
to this day that illustrates this point. It was when the
watch that he received upon becoming engaged to the daughter
of Rav Aharon Weinstein zt'l, rosh yeshivas Beis Yosef
in Tel Aviv, was stolen from him on a Friday night, several
days after the engagement. He showed no sign of sadness. He
was happy all Shabbos long. He sang and was in high spirits
while learning. Here we saw genuine nobility. "I love Torah;
how important is the loss of a watch when compared with love
of Torah?"
As to the teacher-disciple relationship — the older one
grows, the deeper grow one's discernment and appreciation of
what one has received. The idea of teacher and disciple comes
to encompass a broader dimension.
This happened when four of us moved from Ponovezh, where we
had been learning, to establish the yeshiva in Be'er Yaakov
led by the Rosh Yeshiva, with my teacher and rebbe
HaRav Shlomo Wolbe zt'l as menahel ruchani. The
four of us were Dov Wein, Yitzchok Grodzensky, Tzvi Rabi and
Yehoshua Shklar (myself).
Slowly, other bochurim joined us. Those were days of
spiritual delight, filled with the pleasure of the clarity
and depth of the Rosh Yeshiva's shiurim. Together with
my colleague and dear friend Rav Dov Wein, I learned together
with the Rosh Yeshiva in his home during the evening
seder. That was a taste of Olom Habo . . .
For the Shabbos meals the Rosh Yeshiva would sit with us in
the hut in the orchard that served as our dining room . . .
songs and Shabbos zemiros on his lips —
"Yetzaveh tzur chasdo kehilosov lekabeitz . . ."
(zemiros for the second meal). That was when he taught
us the tune to, "Se'u morom eineichem ure'u Mi boro
eileh . . ." (Yeshayohu 40:26). With what yearning
and emotion he sang these wonderful words. I'll never forget
it.
His happiness was at a peak when his relative, one of the
brilliant scholars from the remnants of the Volozhin Yeshiva
who was renowned for his tremendously broad knowledge, HaRav
Naftoli Tzvi Rif zt'l arrived at the yeshiva. He told
us, the members of the kibbutz, to surprise him with
our knowledge of different masechtos. If my memory
doesn't fail me, he told each of us to speak in learning from
a different masechta of gemora.
I'll never forget how impressed Rav Rif was and how he said
in amazement, "This is literally like Volozhin . . . young
bochurim with such broad knowledge!" The Rosh
Yeshiva's heart radiated joy and happiness — these were
his own bnei yeshiva, for whom he had sacrificed
himself.
The Rosh Yeshiva was also the rov of the settlement of Be'er
Yaakov at that time. Connected as he was to the Brisker
dynasty [his father was a brother of Reb Chaim Soloveitchik's
rebbetzin], he considered it his first duty as rov to
attend to the education of the boys and girls. There was a
State Religious School there that was affiliated with the
Mizrachi movement but the place was more of a "state"
institution than a "religious" one. There were students there
whose families belonged to all the different groups and it
was imperative to open a school under the auspices of the
Agudas Yisroel — Fourth Stream. A committee composed of
the esteemed local activists, R' Gershon Edeles and R' Zanvil
Rosenberg, Dov Wein and myself, was formed, with the Rosh
Yeshiva serving as chairman.
The hardest task was to obtain the signatures of twenty plus
parents who wished to move their children to the new Agudas
Yisroel school. A deadline was set for closing the
enrollment.
I will never forget the fateful Friday when the enrollment
was to close at twelve noon. Missing that deadline meant that
the Ministry of Education wouldn't issue a permit. But the
Rosh Yeshiva was also a responsible leader, in charge of the
education of the sons and daughters of the members of his
community. It was a matter of providing the children with a
pure, unsullied education. He accompanied me from the very
beginning of that fateful Friday, to every single home in the
Yemenite settlement and the surrounding area to get parents
to fill in application forms. With the energy of a young man
he worked without rest but the deadline was approaching . .
.
Hakodosh Boruch Hu stood by us and at the very last
minute we gathered the necessary application forms and
swiftly conveyed them to the Secretary of the Council,
Binyamin Ehrenfeld. He pronounced the emotion laden words
that we'd been waiting to hear . . . "You've won! You'll have
an Agudah school. You'll get a permit from the Education
Ministry." All was light and joy in the Rosh Yeshiva's home.
There would be somewhere to send the local children.
To close this appreciation of our mentor and teacher, I would
like to mention his fatherly concern for his talmidim.
This showed itself in some unbelievable ways, one of which I
shall mention.
When a shidduch was proposed for one of his
talmidim he made a long trip to the home of the girl
to speak to her parents and also to have a glance at what
kind of books she read. That shows the concern and sacrifice
of a father for his son.
For me, this is indeed a private loss. As an individual
— among many others — I owe him my entire life.
Maybe this article in his memory has managed to express a
little of my gratitude to him. May his merit stand us in good
stead.
