A
Lesson In Silence, A Lesson In Emuna
Two Chassidim, Reb Shraga Faitel Levin and Reb Shmuel
Berzhin
By E. Lesches
Quiet
people are hard to penetrate. Their silence and unassuming way of
life often serve as the perfect way to mask knowledge and
sincerity. Although Chassidim of stature who did their utmost to
avoid attention or honor were sometimes not as well known as
Chassidim who taught and farbrenged, this obscurity was
precisely what they wanted.
Such a
person was Reb Shraga Faitel Levin. Reb Faitel was born to Reb
Dovid Abba Levin, a Chassid known as the Melamed of Nevel. Reb
Faitel learned Torah intensely: every spare moment he had was used
to study Torah. Blessed with a photographic memory, Reb Faitel
knew the entire Shas by heart (!) and committed many
Chassidic works to memory.
Every
Shabbos morning in Nevel, five children joined Reb Faitel’s four
sons in learning Likkutei Torah. Due to the shortage
of books, one child alone would read aloud, explaining the
material to the other children, while Reb Faitel paced the room in
deep concentration. If the child erred in his explanation, Reb
Faitel would groan deeply, forcing him to repeat it again until
Reb Faitel was satisfied.
Yes, both
Chassidus and Nigla were part of Reb Faitel’s life. Every day,
when he returned home from backbreaking labor, he ate a little
food and sat down immediately to learn. His children frequently
saw him sleeping at night with his head on his Gemara, or lying
down at night for two, three hours – only to rise refreshed to
study again until daybreak.
Despite
his tremendous amount of knowledge, Reb Faitel was rarely heard to
utter a word. Even during farbrengens and other gatherings
he hardly ever spoke, remaining content to sit and listen. In the
rare moment when he opened his mouth to say a few words, all
became silent, leaning forward to hear every word.
When it
came to the education of his children, however, Reb Faitel did not
spare any words. He brought up his children in a refined way,
educating them about the standards of behavior expected of them as
Chabad Chassidim. Once, when his son came home an hour late, Reb
Faitel demanded to know where he had been. “I was watching a
game of kickball,” the boy replied.
“You
spent an hour watching some goyim kick a ball?” Reb
Faitel said in astonishment. He repeated the words again and again
with great pain until the boy burst into tears. Though Reb Faitel
raised neither voice nor hand, his methods left an indelible
impression on the children.
One day,
Reb Faitel was learning with Reb Shmuel (Mulle Chaim’s) Berhzin,
the local shochet, in the shul of Nevel, when the shochet’s
adult son suddenly arrived, searching for his father. The son,
healthy and physically fit, had previously claimed he was sickly
and weak in order to avoid the army draft. However, the army
periodically conducted spot-checks to catch deserters and false
exemptions, impelling the young man to flee town. With time, he
had become a wealthy butcher, and arrived now, unannounced, to
visit his father.
“What
are you doing here?” Reb Shmuel demanded. “Do you want to get
arrested, G-d forbid?”
“I’m
just passing through,” his son explained. “The Rebbe Rashab is
close by at his place of vacation and I am on my way to visit
him.”
“Wonderful!”
exclaimed Reb Shmuel. “I wish I could also go!”
His son
did not miss a beat. “I will buy you a ticket,” he said,
“but I must be on my way already.”
Reb
Faitel promptly seized the opportunity to express his overwhelming
desire to see the Rebbe, and to his pleasant surprise, the young
man bought him a ticket as well. The group set out on their
journey.
The Rebbe
Rashab was staying at a resort location not far from the Black
Sea. The trio reached the closest port on Friday morning. It was a
few-mile walk to the village where the Rebbe was staying, with
other small villages in between.
Before
they began their walk, they decided to take a mikva in the
Black Sea. Reb Faitel and the shochet immediately emerged
from the water, but the son continued to swim around for quite a
while. When he finished swimming, he rejoined the others to walk
to the Rebbe’s home.
Suddenly,
the son dropped to the ground and lay there motionless. All his
father’s efforts to arouse him were to no avail; the young man
was unconscious. Reb Faitel helped the distraught father carry his
son to the nearest Jewish home, and as the son lay immobile in
bed, their hosts ran out to fetch the closest doctor.
When the
doctor finally arrived, he examined the patient. “I can’t
understand what happened,” the father explained. “We were just
swimming in the Black Sea and my son seemed hale and hearty. When
we continued walking, he collapsed to the ground without a sound,
and he’s been lying like that ever since.”
The
doctor looked at them in astonishment. “The Black Sea?” he
repeated. “You swam in that water?”
“We
didn’t stay too long,” the shochet said. “My son was
there longer than us. He probably swam for a few minutes.”
“A
few minutes!” the doctor shook his head in dismay. “I’m
sorry, but there is little I can do. The water in that lake is
contaminated with dangerous chemicals and prolonged contact has
always proved fatal. Your son is in a coma, far beyond human
help!”
The
doctor packed his bag, and ignoring their protests, headed out the
door. The shochet turned to Reb Faitel in desperation.
“Only the Rebbe can help us,” he said. “We must go straight
to him!”
They left
the invalid in the house and continued their trip, arriving at the
Rebbe Rashab’s residence on Friday night at midnight. When they
arrived, the shochet immediately asked the gabbai of
the Rebbe Rashab to grant him a yechidus, but he was
refused.
“The
Rebbe is not seeing anyone now,” explained the gabbai.
“However, if you really must speak with the Rebbe, I suggest you
wait outside his room, because the Rebbe always goes from one room
to the next between three and four in the morning. Then you will
be able to ask him whatever you want.”
And so it
was. The shochet and Reb Faitel waited outside the
Rebbe’s room for hours. Suddenly, at 3:30 a.m., the door opened
and the Rebbe came out. “What do you want?” the Rebbe asked.
Reb
Shmuel burst into tears and quickly related what had occurred.
When he finished, the Rebbe made a dismissive gesture with his
hand. “He will be here for Havdala,” he said. With
that, the Rebbe went to a different room.
The pair
looked at one another in amazement: the invalid was stretched out
in bed, practically lifeless, and yet the Rebbe expected him to
make the trip in time for Havdala! However, being true
Chassidim, they did not question the Rebbe’s word. In fact, the shochet
was so overjoyed by the Rebbe’s words that he decided to
stay there until after Shabbos, for if the Rebbe promised his son
would recuperate, then returning to the village would be a futile
waste of time.
Meanwhile,
on Shabbos day, back in the village, the young man suddenly awoke
to find strangers looking sadly at him. “What am I doing
here?” he said. “Where is my father?”
The son
tried to get up, but fell back, exhausted by the effort. “Watch
yourself!” the woman of the house screamed. “You are very ill
and the doctor said you will die soon! Don’t move or you might
make it worse!”
The
family tried all they could to get him to stay in bed, but he
resisted. “What do you mean?” he said indignantly. “I came
here to see the Rebbe, not to stay in bed!”
Gradually,
he mustered enough strength to sit up. Then he mastered standing
and walking. After eating something, he left the house, against
the strong exhortations of his hosts to remain and gather his
strength.
When he
arrived at the house of the Rebbe Rashab, he opened the door to
find the Rebbe standing at the table with the becher in his
hand, mouthing the first word, “Hinei,” of Havdala.
He had arrived in time.
Decades
later, one of Reb Faitel’s sons related this story to his
children. “This story,” he observed, “illustrates the
incredible emuna of the Chassidim of Nevel. This man had
left his son on a deathbed with the doctor saying there was
no hope for him, yet when the Rebbe said he would be fine, the
Chassid did not even bother to return and observe his son’s
health. The Rebbe had spoken; his word was enough!”