In The Merit Of Walking In The Rebbe’s Ways
By Rabbi Levi Yitzchak Ginsberg

About 15 years ago I attended a farbrengen in connection with a siyum ha’Rambam in a certain city, where I began to relate the following story, which I heard maybe 30 years ago. A few minutes into my recitation I suddenly heard a gasp from the late Rabbi Nissan Torchin, who was then the Ashkenazic chief rabbi of that city. "You’re telling me that story?" he cried. "I was at that wedding!" He corrected a few details I had gotten wrong. He also insisted that the yeshiva had been in Kovno, Lithuania, rather than in Stuchin.

This is the story:

Rabbi Chaim Chaikel Miletzky was the rosh yeshiva of Yeshiva Chayei Olam in Yerushalayim. For many years he had suffered from problems with his legs, one of which had gotten so bad that it was paralyzed. The condition eventually worsened to the point that he was confined to bed. The doctors insisted that one leg needed to be amputated. If that didn’t help, the other leg would have to be amputated, too.

In 1954 one of Rabbi Miletzky’s daughters was married. The wedding was attended by hundreds of rabbis and yeshiva students. The rosh yeshiva asked to be carried into the wedding hall on a stretcher in order to participate in the joyous occasion.

At the wedding celebration, speaker after speaker stood up to offer words of Torah and to bless and the bride and groom. The rosh yeshiva also wanted to speak, but as he was very weak and could not even sit up, he asked for total silence so that his words could be heard. When everyone had quieted down, he began his story.

"When I was young I went to yeshiva in the city of Kovno. There were 30 of us in the entire yeshiva, which used the local shul as its place of study.

"In Kovno lived an infamous drunkard whom everyone called ‘Itche Der Shikker.’ Itche’s claim to fame was his habit of drinking until he passed out, waking up, drinking some more, and falling back asleep. No one knew where Itche lived; in fact, no one was much interested in finding out. His only friends were the small children who spoke to him during his rare waking hours. Itche could almost always be found in the shul, where the students of the yeshiva also spent most of their time.

"One particularly frigid winter night we were sitting and learning as usual. Itche was fast asleep on one of the benches. Suddenly the door opened and in rushed a wagon driver, plainly agitated and desperate about something. ‘Quick!’ he yelled at the startled bachurim. ‘You’ve got to help me. My wagon just overturned outside and landed on top of my horse. The reins are all tangled up around the animal’s neck. If we don’t turn the wagon over at once, the horse will choke to death. If the horse dies, G-d forbid, I’ll be left without any means of earning a livelihood. Please come and help me – I can’t do it by myself!’ he pleaded.

"The man stood there while we discussed the pros and cons of abandoning our studies to help him: Was it permissible to pause in our learning or not? In the end, we concluded that the transgression of neglecting our studies was too grave a sin to risk. We stayed in the beis midrash and continued to learn. The poor wagon driver left the shul, angry and bitter.

"All of a sudden, Itche roused himself from his nap and said, ‘Bachurim! Go right now to help that Jew before his horse chokes! If you don’t,’ he warned, ‘you’ll never again walk on your own legs.’

"I said to him in jest, ‘Itche, since when do you decide halachic questions?’ He ignored me and said nothing. About a half-hour later, the desperate wagon driver returned, pleading with us in even stronger language to come to his aid. He had searched far and wide for others to help him but had found no one else available. Again we held a discussion on whether or not we should go, this time deciding that it was indeed permissible. We left the shul and followed the wagon driver, only to find that we had arrived too late. The horse was already dead…

"In shul the next morning, Itche asked for me by name. I had not yet arrived, but as soon as I walked in, my fellow students informed me that Itche wished to speak to me. I found him on his usual bench and asked him what he wanted. ‘Listen,’ he said. ‘I have something to ask of you. Tonight I am going to die, and I don’t want to be alone. I would like you to come to my house to be with me when my soul departs.’

"I started to laugh. I thought he was only joking, but he repeated his request. I asked him where he lived, and he described an old ruin on the edge of town that served as his home.

"Evening came. I decided I might as well go to Itche, figuring that I could sit and learn just as well in his house as in the beis midrash. I took my Gemara and set off for Itche’s hovel.

"When I got there I found Itche stretched out on some wooden boards, asleep. I sat down on a broken crate, opened the Gemara, and began to learn. ‘What am I doing here?’ I wondered to myself after several hours had passed. ‘How did I allow myself to fall into this?’ I decided to leave, but as soon as I stood up Itche awoke. ‘Don’t leave!’ he said. ‘Sit back down. I’m going to die at exactly 4:00 a.m. I want you to tell the Chevra Kaddisha that I wish to be buried next to Rabbi so-and-so.’ Itche named an eminent scholar, a tzaddik and gaon who was buried in the old Jewish cemetery.

"‘Why are you talking such nonsense?’ I answered. ‘You don’t even put on t’fillin, and you want to be buried next to such a great tzaddik?’ ‘What do you mean, I don’t put on t’fillin?’ Itche said. ‘Over there in the corner is a chest. Look inside and you will find my t’fillin.’

"I walked over and opened the chest. Much to my surprise I found a beautiful pair of kosher t’fillin. If I hadn’t seen them with my own eyes I would never have believed that they belonged to Itche. ‘But even if I tell the Chevra Kaddisha where you want to be buried they’ll never listen to me,’ I protested.

‘Under the chest with the t’fillin is a small box,’ Itche said. ‘Inside you will find all my writings and manuscripts. If you show them to the rav and to the Chevra Kaddisha, they will fulfill my request.’ I opened the box and examined its contents. A quick glance revealed a number of esoteric Kabbalistic treatises, involving concepts many of which I could not understand. One thing was clear, however: The man lying on his decrepit wooden bed was a hidden tzaddik.

"At that point I begged Itche to rescind the gezeira he had decreed on us for not helping the wagon driver rescue his horse. ‘To tell you the truth,’ he replied, ‘as soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them. But I was so upset at hearing yeshiva bachurim use ‘And the study of Torah equaling them all’ as an excuse for not helping a Jew, I couldn’t control myself. Afterwards, I tried with all my might to nullify the decree, but I was unsuccessful. The only thing I can tell you is that in your case, it will only affect one leg.’

"At exactly 4:00 a.m. he expired. After he died, I immediately ran to the rav and the Chevra Kaddisha as he had instructed. I told them the whole story, and brought along the box of manuscripts to bolster my words. There was only one problem: The Chevra Kaddisha insisted there were no empty burial plots in the ancient cemetery. It was already many years that the city’s dead were being interred in the new cemetery for lack of space in the old one. Nevertheless, we walked to the ancient burial ground to look for ourselves. We were shocked to discover that there was indeed room for Itche to be buried – right next to the rabbi he had indicated!

"The whole city was in an uproar over the unlikely and incredulous story. A large and stately funeral was held for Itche, with most of the city’s prominent Jews attending to pay their last respects."

At this point in the rosh yeshiva’s story, he began to weep. Great heart-rending sobs filled the wedding hall. "I have no doubt," he said when he had composed himself, "that my long years of suffering and incapacitation are the direct result of that hidden tzaddik’s curse."

There wasn’t a dry eye in the wedding hall. The guests were filled with pity for the rosh yeshiva. The joy of the marriage was momentarily forgotten amidst his tale of woe…

* * *

Rabbi Leib Friedman was one of the wedding guests that day. For a long time he could not get the story out of his mind. As he was in constant correspondence with the Rebbe shlita, he decided to mention Rabbi Chaim Chaikel Miletzky in his next letter. He asked the Rebbe to pray for this unfortunate Jew and to give him a blessing to recover his health.

(Rabbi Leib Friedman later wrote a seifer entitled Tzidkas Tzaddik, in which he explained why, in a seifer Torah, the letter Tzaddik must be inscribed the way Chassidim write it in their Torah scrolls – with the two Yuds that make up the top of the letter pointing in opposite directions, and not in the same direction, as done by others. Rabbi Friedman had engaged in much debate about this with the Chazon Ish as well as the Rebbe shlita.)

A short while later he received an answer: Everything that happens in gashmiyus begins with its source in ruchniyus. Tell the rosh yeshiva that he should accept upon himself the learning of the daily portions of Chumash, Tehillim, and Tanya, as instituted by the Rebbe Rayatz. Not only should he learn these chapters, the Rebbe wrote, but he should make sure that everyone under his influence does so, as well. (The rosh yeshiva had acquired a large following over the years.) In the merit of walking in the Rebbe Rayatz’s ways, G-d Almighty will bless him with the ability to walk in the literal sense, too.

Rabbi Leib Friedman immediately ran to show Rabbi Miletzky the letter. Rabbi Miletzky was absolutely overwhelmed. He was so happy and excited that he kissed the piece of paper.

About a half-year later, when Rabbi Friedman next visited the rosh yeshiva, he was sitting at his desk. The doctors had abandoned all talk of amputation and only spoke of progress and eventual rehabilitation. His condition continued to improve, and he eventually regained the ability to walk normally…

* * *

It is said that when the Chasid R’ Reuven Dunin was learning in Yeshiva Tomchei Tmimim, the Rebbe shlita would often invite him into his holy room. During these sessions, the Rebbe would give him various instructions and explain the benefits that following them would bring.

On one such occasion, R’ Reuven burst into tears. "Rebbe!" he said. "I don’t want you to tell me why I should do something; I want to do it just because the Rebbe said so!"

It is also said that at a certain farbrengen that took place around this time, the Rebbe was talking about something that needed to be done when he smiled and said, "It’s just as Reuven Dunin says – that you’ve got to do it without knowing the reason or the benefit; only because you are told…"

On Shabbos Parshas Matos-Masei 5736, the Rebbe said (non-edited; free translation):

* * *

We are now within 30 days of the great and holy day of Yud Shvat, the Rosh HaShana of hiskashrus. We have also just completed the eighteenth cycle of learning Rambam and started our nineteenth. The Rebbe’s words urging us to celebrate the siyum ha’Rambam with the biggest possible shturem (storm) still echoes in our ears.

The goal, of course, is to get as many people as possible to learn Rambam, especially on the three-chapters-a-day track.

(Reb Mendel Futerfas, of blessed memory, never liked when people said they preferred to learn only one chapter of Rambam a day so they could study it in greater depth. The Rebbe shlita obviously wants us to study three chapters a day, Reb Mendel would insist, reminding people that the Rebbe never offered any explanations on Rambam according to the one-chapter-a-day cycle! If Anash and Tmimim aren’t willing to do it, who will? Anyhow, as Reb Mendel used to conclude, those who insist on learning only one chapter a day in depth usually end up not learning it in depth, and sometimes not at all.)

Incidentally, it is a common misconception that women and girls should only learn Seifer HaMitzvos. In fact, it is entirely untrue. On several occasions the Rebbe stated explicitly that those women and girls who wish to undertake the three chapters a day of the Rambam’s Yad may certainly do so.

But the most important thing is to keep up with the shiurim and do them every day, without exception. These shiurim must be established "in the soul."

It doesn’t matter if it’s already late at night and you’re exhausted and falling asleep. When the yetzer ha’ra comes and tells you that it’s alright if you go to bed because you’ll make up the shiur tomorrow when you’re nice and refreshed – pay no attention! The yetzer ha’ra only wants to get its foot in the door. Put off that daily Rambam shiur once, and it’s already tomorrow, then the next day… The main point is to do it on the day you’re supposed to, even if your brain is a little fuzzy and you’re not absorbing as much as you should. Maintaining the learning cycle pertains to the life of the soul itself, and on such matters there is no room for compromise.

On Shabbos Parshas Mattos-Massei 5746 (edited, printed in Volume 28 of Likkutei Sichos) the Rebbe said (free translation):

It is no coincidence that the Rambam concludes his work with the subject of Moshiach and Redemption. For, as the Rebbe has explained, this emphasizes that the ultimate objective of everything we do of the totality of Torah and mitzvos is the Messianic Era, may it commence immediately.

"Yechi Adoneinu Moreinu V’Rabbeinu Melech HaMoshiach L’olam Va’ed!"