The sixth volume in the series of the book known as Meir
Einei Yisroel was released some time ago. Its 800 pages
spread before us a vast and amazing tapestry of information,
both in quantity and quality, which incorporates facts and
practices from the lives of our Saba Kadisha, Maran the
Chofetz Chaim zy'a, culled from those who were in his
proximity during festivals and seasonal occasions. A wealth
of description is presented from those who visited him,
alongside hundreds of facts that span seventeen chapters in
the wide spectrum of his avodas Hashem. All this and
more, enhanced by hundreds of photographs, documents and
letters, many of which appear there for the first time in
print. This huge volume constitutes an additional tier to the
five preceding volumes in this series, which thousands here
and abroad have hailed as being of indescribable value.
We present here impressions of a visit to Maran HeChofetz
Chaim ztvk'l which was publicized in our times by the
visitor himself, as well as a description of his conduct on
Purim, as related by his talmidim.
Maran the Chofetz Chaim and Drinking on Purim
HaGaon Hatzaddik Menachem Schwab zt'l, Mashgiach of
Beis Shraga in Monsey, was a product of Yeshivos Kamenitz and
Mir who cleaved unto the Chofetz Chaim and his teachings. In
a talk he gave to his own students before Purim, he once
said:
"I was together with gedolei Yisroel on Purim and not
one of them became drunk. The Ramo rules for practical
application that, "One need not get very drunk, but should
drink more than he is accustomed to and then go to sleep.
While he is asleep, he surely is not cognizant of "Orur
Homon uvoruch Mordechai," that Homon is accursed and
Mordechai is blessed. The Chofetz Chaim wrote in Mishnah
Berurah: "This is what is proper and right to do [on
Purim]."
The Chofetz Chaim himself was not accustomed to getting
drunk, but he would nonetheless pour alcoholic drinks for all
those at his table and toast them with a lechaim. He
would then pour another round and say, "The first was for
Shabbos and Yom Tov. This second time is to fulfill the
requirement of drinking more wine than one is in the habit of
drinking." He would drink the cup and then go to sleep.
(Morenu Maran HaGaon R' Boruch Ber used to tell that the Beis
Halevi would drink some wine to fulfill the obligation of
becoming befuddled. He would then rest his head on the table
and fall asleep. After a short while, he would rouse himself
and declare, "I have already done my duty.")
R' Schwab would relate further:
In Yeshivas Mir, Purim was a day of spiritual arousal and
ascent. After shacharis, they ate a small meal and
then they would exchange shalach monos with one
another. They would drink a little wine and go to sleep.
Afterwards, they would eat the festive meal of the day, each
one in his own lodgings. Maran the Mashgiach, R' Yeruchom,
spoke twice during the day: in the morning and after the
seuda. This was aside from the talk he gave the
previous day, on Taanis Esther.
The atmosphere was permeated with great joy and the students
indulged in Purim Toiros, clever sayings in jest, each
one as the thoughts struck him, but all in good taste. The
Mashgiach sat among the students, listening to every word
they uttered. When they had finished, he spoke for about two
hours, and he spoke once more after Purim on relevant
matters. This was how Purim was celebrated in Yeshivas Mir
(Maamar Mordechai, II, Essay 61).
Regarding the Reading of the Megilla on Purim
He (the Chofetz Chaim) was very careful to hear every single
word with precision, especially when the congregation made
noise to drown out the name of Homon. He said it was
important for every person to follow the reading, at least
from a Chumash, if not from a kosher Megilla,
which was of course preferable, so that he could repeat
to himself a word he did not hear clearly. He used to suggest
that one repeat in a whisper exactly what was being read
throughout the course of the entire reading. He advised this
also for the regular reading of the Torah (HeChofetz
Chaim, Chayov uPo'olo, p. 927).
In the Winter — Only Chanukah and Purim
As is common knowledge, there are no festivals during the
winter outside of Chanukah and Purim. On Chanukah we
commemorate the threat to our Torah, to our spiritual
existence, our very souls, while on Purim we were threatened
with physical annihilation. And what happened in the end? We
emerged wholly intact, with these two festivals to
commemorate those historic events.
The winter symbolizes for us the long, dark exile of our
people. We must take along the message of these festivals
with us during that long journey into night when our souls
and bodies are alternately threatened by outside forces.
These two festivals are a constant reminder that the winter-
exile is not forever, and that we will survive it and emerge
intact. In the end we will come out of this exile with both
our Torah and our bodies unscathed (Sichos HeChofetz
Chaim, by his son, HaRav A.L. zt'l. Printed in the
work, HeChofetz Chaim al Shabbos uMoadim, pp. 143-
144).
A Visit to Maran HeChofetz Chaim, shlita
(ztvk'l)
"Now I understand that only while he is studying and delving
into some topic in the gemora with all his senses
— that only then does he become vigorous and
rejuvenated. When he rises from his study and begins to walk,
then we see how truly ill and debilitated he is . . . "
The following was written and publicized in the lifetime of
the Chofetz Chaim by the editor, who signs himself by the
name of Schiff (R' Fishel Spitlowitz z'l), in the
newspaper Der Yid which was published in Poland before
the Holocaust, appearing here for the first time in
colloquial style:
Even from my childhood, I have hidden, somewhere deep inside
me, a feeling of yearning to see and personally know this
great Jew, the bulwark of the generation.
When I was a small boy and used to hear old people in the
shteibel tell how they still remembered seeing and
knowing that particular great man or this famous
tzaddik, I would become filled with envy of those
privileged ones who had yet lived in the previous generation
and remembered enough to be able to relate facts about a
personage who, today, is world famous by virtue of his well-
known writings or simply through the excellent and revered
reputation which he gained.
Sometimes it seemed to me that the tales they told of the
righteous of yore were purposely intended to tease me and
lord it over me, as if to say, "But you couldn't possibly
have known that great person!"
Therefore, when I eventually learned, to my great surprise,
that the author of the famous works, Mishnah Berurah,
which was so useful when searching for a certain
halocho, was a contemporary, I suddenly felt a driving
urge to at least see him — and perhaps even dare to
meet him and get to know him personally.
I must admit that it was prompted by a childish audacity, to
fulfill an immature desire to be able to boast his
acquaintance. When I grew to old age, I too would be able to
lord it over all the younger ones who came after me that, "I
knew the author of the Mishnah Berurah and the
Chofetz Chaim."
And then, one time, I learned that Maran the Chofetz Chaim
shlita was actually in Warsaw!
I had never seen him before. Without a second thought, I
picked myself up and headed for the hotel where he was
lodging. I was extremely pleased by the notion that in
another ten-fifteen minutes I would have the great privilege
to see, if not even to speak to, the world renowned
tzaddik and gaon.
Thoughts and memories surface in my mind regarding what I had
heard and read about tzaddikim from previous
generations, about their greatness, their superhuman
capacities and their exaltedness.
I remember that I once saw written somewhere concerning what
one tzaddik said of his contemporary — whoever
was not privileged to see him, will also not be privileged to
greet Moshiach!
And indeed, I heard in the past from venerable men who were
able to recall the period in which the Kotzker Rebbe
ztvk'l, the Chidushei HaRim ztvk'l, the Gaon R'
Akiva Eiger ztvk'l, the Chasam Sofer ztvk'l had
lived — only they had never met them.
I hear an old man telling me this and I look at him in
astonishment, as if he were mindless. How could a Jew do this
to himself? To live in the same generation as these
outstanding figures and not go to see them?
I think that I, in their place, would have slung a knapsack
over my shoulders, taken a stick in hand, and journeyed all
the way on foot for the privilege of seeing them with my very
eyes!
Thoughts such as these accompanied me all along the way and
lo! Suddenly I roused myself and noticed that I had already
reached the street of the hotel where the Chofetz Chaim
shlita was staying.
I look at the street number on the gate of the building:
Rimarska 12. Yes. This was the address.
I open the first door in the courtyard and find something
written on it...
No! Not this... I'm not looking for something whose value
drops day by day [Trans. Note: He is perhaps referring to a
moneychanger or stockbroker.] I'm looking for an elderly Jew,
a treasure house full to overflowing with Torah and yiras
Shomayim. He, truly, is losing [his allotment of life
— he was very elderly at the time] by the day, but he
was not losing any of his value! On the contrary! His worth
was rising day by day! The older he gets, the more precious
he becomes and the greater his spiritual value.
Ahhh! Here it is! I've found the door. Someone points it out
to me — this is the door.
I open it. There is no one in the room. Only by the table,
there sits a tiny old man with a beard . . . totally
engrossed, with all of his senses, in the gemora lying
before him.
Is this he? I wonder to myself. They described him to me as a
weak and frail person — but the man I see here is fresh
and vigorous, leafing energetically through the gemora
to the commentary of the Rosh, and from the Rosh back to the
original text. And he briskly grabs hold of the Rambam
resting before him.
His face is radiant, his eyes glow. There are no vestiges of
age, no signs of sickness or brokenheartedness.
He is totally immersed in the gemora, the Rosh and the
Rambam, leafing through them with energy and alacrity, so
much so that he doesn't even sense the opening of the door
and does not realize that I am standing by the table and
waiting for him to notice me and say a word or two.
Fifteen — twenty minutes pass thus as I stand and wait.
I see the face and hands of the Chofetz Chaim reflect his
study and how the subject begins to become clarified and
lucid. And then, with a gesture of pure joy and deep
satisfaction, he closes the Rosh and finishes the
gemora with the Rambam before him.
"Have you been standing here for long?" he asks me, suddenly
noticing me standing opposite him. He wishes to apologize for
not having paid any attention to the fact I was standing
there, and had not even asked me to sit down.
"Never mind, it doesn't matter," I answer, and the thought
suddenly runs through my mind: This is how his manner of
study looks! Not like the study we are familiar with where
every slight distraction succeeds in distracting us from that
study!
"Please sit down, my dear brother," the Chofetz Chaim says to
me as he takes hold of my hand and pulls me down next to him.
He immediately begins to talk to me, as he is accustomed to,
about his `business,' his affairs: mussar and yiras
Shomayim. And he shows me the recent public notice he had
printed up in Vilna in which he calls upon rabbonim to uphold
the honor of the Torah which is dwindling by the day, and to
see to it that each town support at least one yeshiva
ketanoh, hire melamdim or have, at least, the
rabbi himself teach the young boys who have completed
cheder. He notes there that one is permitted to teach
for remuneration.
"May Hashem help that this flyer be effective," says the
Chofetz Chaim after I finish reading his Kol Korei.
"This is a matter of life and death," he continues. "Torah
study is diminishing from day to day. What will be?"
He carries on in this same vein, in this same tone of
voice.
The tone, the content and the style of his words are
familiar. I hear it very often from Jews who are pressured
and who complain:
"These are hard times. Business is almost at a standstill.
There is no parnossoh. What will be?"
And this is the very way in which the Chofetz Chaim is
complaining about his own `business,' about Torah study, and
what will become of it.
And he has his plans for rectifying the situation, big plans
for the future . . .
