Back in the early 1970s money was very tight in my family. To make ends meet my Dad had several jobs. He worked full time at Pfizer Chemical making Penicillin. When he finished at Pfizer he jumped into his truck and put up TV antennas on local rooftops or he drove off to one of his clients where he was a professional gardener. This was a time before the invention of the Weed Whacker, so when it was time to clip the grass around the fence posts of one of the estates; I got down on hands and knees and started to pull. Even though it was over 35 years ago I can’t go by a picket fence without cringing. There was many a day I’d go home with bloody fingers after pulling blades of grass by hand for hours on end.
I can still remember one particular day when I had what seemed like miles of fence to weed. Almost in tears I got up and complained that I’d been doing this same task for hours and I still had a long way to go. Dad came up to me and turned me around and said, “Instead of looking at how much you have left to do, turn around and admire how much you’ve already accomplished.” That one life lesson has stayed with me all these long years as my life’s journey unfolded.
Over the course of the last year I felt like I was constantly bombarded with bad news. We saw the tragedy in Mumbai, the implosion of the economy, the building tensions in the Iran, Iraq and Afghanistan and for the first time in many, many years I found myself in a spiritual depression. A depression so deep, so dark, that I couldn’t navigate out of it by myself.
Several days before Rosh Hashanah two young “Roving Rabbis,” Yossi Silverstein and Shalom Ber Cunin came to Reno to meet with Jews throughout Northern Nevada. Now this was not the first time I’d met with young Rabbis that spent their summers meeting with Jews in far off places. It was however the first time I ever felt compelled to invite them to spend one on one time with me. So no one was more surprised than me when suddenly one Shabbos I invited them to come to my office at the newspaper and “learn.”
Moments after the invitation left my lips I asked myself, “Why did I just do that, what the heck did I just do? They are here to meet with unaffiliated Jews, Jews who are lost and need help. I don’t need help. I have been a member of Chabad for more than a decade. What could these two young guys possibly teach me?” As it turned out…..quite a bit!
We arranged to meet midday on the following Friday. Around 1:30 my receptionist called and said there were two young men here to see me. They entered my office carrying a shofar and some reading material for us to discuss. Before we started learning Yossi raised the shofar to his lips and blew. It was all I could do not to laugh because the non Jews in the immediate area had no idea what was going on in my office but there was little doubt they heard and felt the power of the shofar.
After he was finished the three of us started to talk. We talked for more than an hour and never did get to the reading material they’d brought with them. We spoke of many things over the course of our time together but at one moment I found myself opening up and discussing my spiritual depression. Until that moment I had not discussed my feelings with a single soul, not my wife, not my Dad, not my Mom nor my Rabbi.
For months I had slowly and depressingly drowned in a spiritual morass that had relentlessly drained my energy and emotions. Yet in less than an hour these two 20-something Rabbis got me to open up about my feelings, ask questions and probe the depths of my personal despair. In less than an hour they pushed me to reexamine my entire spiritual journey from its humble beginnings in New London Connecticut to its many travels through Palms Springs, Delaware, Oregon, Nevada and beyond. In less than an hour these two young, passionate men reminded me to stop looking at how much more I had yet to accomplish and take a moment to “turn around” spiritually and remember all I had experienced and seen over the past 20 years. They took time out of their precious day to take this one, lone Jew by the spiritual hand and remind him that Hashem has always been with him and will never leave his side now or in the future. These two young men reminded me of the many small but powerful miracles I had witnessed over the years, many of which I had chronicled in this space. In less than an hour these two committed young men had helped me turn around and remember the joys of my spiritual garden and the many miraculous moments it had produced.
I am not sure who was more energized or amazed when they left that day, Yossi and Shalom Ber or me. It was one of those special moments that one never forgets. It was one of those moments that recharges one’s personal spiritual batteries and propels them to take the next spiritual step on their life’s journey. It was one of those special moments when one looks around and thanks Hashem for the small as well as the large miracles he provides each and every day. It was one of those days when the vision of the Lubavitcher Rebbe Menachem Schneerson, of blessed memory, manifests itself right there in front of you. Years ago he sent out young emissaries just like Yossi and Shalom Ber to find and help Jews just like me, a mission that continues on today in towns small and large all around the world.
As I sat alone in my office that afternoon tears streamed down my face. The pain and doubts that had almost consumed me, literally choking my spirit and causing me extreme heartache had suddenly and thankfully disappeared in the blink of an eye. As I watched them drive away I couldn’t help but ponder that Rosh Hashanah was just a few days away. Rosh Hashanah a time when we go to Shul, and recognize Hashem as our King, and ask him to grant our families and our people around the world a happy, joyful, and prosperous new year.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I contemplated the notion that the end of one of my most challenging spiritual years was almost at hand and more importantly the beginning of a fresh, vibrant, hopeful one was just days away. I had forgotten the lesson I had learned in the garden so many years before. I had forgotten to reflect on the wonders and miracles that happen all around us each and every day if we simply just take the time to look.
It took two young men of faith and commitment to remind me. It took two young Rabbis who miraculously appeared out of nowhere one fine day in Reno, two young Rabbis that had no more of an agenda than to help their fellow Jews in need, two young Rabbis that embraced me just when I needed them the most.
Coincidence I think not!
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
These People Must Love Us A Lot
By Steve Hyatt
Kugelhead.blogspot.com
Here is a simple question, which may have a complex answer. When was the last time you gave away something you truly treasured or gave up a piece of your own happiness to strengthen and enhance someone else’s life?
Chances are the answers are not often, and if you did make such a sacrifice, it was probably to benefit a very close family member. The idea of giving up an important part of one’s life for a total stranger is beyond the comprehension of most people. Yes, thankfully many give charity, and yes many volunteer to help others in need. What I am really talking about are selfless acts and deeds that are beyond compare and in some cases understanding. During my first visit to the Chabad Lubavitch community of Crown Heights in Brooklyn, New York I was both inspired and humbled by my experience.
Of course I had heard of Crown Heights since first discovering Chabad in 1983. Throughout the years myriad Chabad Rabbis had shared their personal stories about their lives and events in this unique Jewish community. Based on their vivid stories I envisioned the hustle and bustle of life in this tiny enclave and always promised myself that someday I would see what the “fuss” was all about. I just never imagined it would take me 26 years to get there.
In February of 2009 I was delighted to learn that my good friend Rabbi Meir Perelstein was engaged. He and his Kallah, Chanie Tarlow, planned to be married in Crown Heights the following month and invited me to share their glorious moment with them. As much as I wanted to be there the economic challenges surrounding me caused me to hesitate. After all, the economy was in shambles, the company I worked for was struggling and quite frankly, I was afraid of my personal economic future. Filled with trepidation I asked my Rabbi, Mendel Cunin, what I should do. His response was swift and without hesitation, “Steve the best thing to do when you don’t think you should or can afford to do something is to do it. You should eliminate the excuses and simply push ahead.”
Armed with his sage advice and the emotional support of my wife I accepted the invitation and made the appropriate arrangements. Shortly thereafter Rabbi Cunin informed me that he’d taken his own advice and had decided to join me. So together we set off on a grand adventure. We literally designed an itinerary that brought us to Crown Heights for a total of 36 hours. However, the true surprise was the final realization that these 36 hours were destined to be the most enlightening and inspiring of my Jewish life.
Upon our arrival in New York we embarked on a non stop journey of exploration. Our first stop brought us to "The Ohel" where the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory, was laid to rest. I am not sure what I expected but I was overcome with a feeling of peace, love and contentment during our entire time there. The Rabbi and I wrote out prayers for guidance and blessings and placed them at the Rebbe’s Ohel. We then proceeded to Crown Heights and spent a wonderful evening sharing a delicious meal, which included three styles of Kugel, with the Rabbis’ sister and her husband. After a restful night’s sleep I rendezvoused with the Rabbi at the main Chabad Shul, known to most folks simply as “770. Upon entering this historic facility I immediately felt like I had been hit with a jolt of spiritual electricity. Surrounded by hundreds of men davening, studying and discussing the issues of the day I felt liked I was plugged into the spiritual essence that permeates every cell of the building. During the course of the day we were allowed to enter the Rebbe’s office and his library, we saw the Chabad online school which now makes it possible for the children of the Schluchim from around the world to learn from home until they are old enough to attend a Yeshiva or Seminary, we even found our way to the world famous Schmurah Matzo factory where Passover matzos are prepared from start to finish in a scant 18 minutes. It was an intimate tour of this precious community that will remain emblazoned in my mind’s eye forever.
Toward the end of the day it was time for the wedding. At 4:30 sharp the Rabbi and I met at Oholei Torah Ballroom where the celebration was to take place. I watched in wonder as Meir recited from memory his Maamer, a Chassidic discourse written by the Rebbe that explains the different levels of the connection of man and wife, as well as the direct connection between G-d and Israel, and how both concepts unite as the Chossin and Kallah are wed.
At the conclusion of his recitation an unassuming man of many years slowly arose from his seat and started to play a soulful, captivating melody on his violin. As the violinist played on, Meir’s father and father-in-law tenderly grabbed his arms and started a procession that led to the women’s side of the room. As we slowly made our way to the Kallah the gentlemen in attendance set the mood as they quietly hummed an ancient Chassidic tune. When we finally arrived in front of the Kallah, Meir gently placed a veil on her head. This simple, moving, tender moment brought tears to my eyes as I witnessed this ancient testimony to love, modesty and family purity. As a group we made our way back to 770 and the actual wedding took place under the Chuppah in front of the Shul. I was mesmerized as the bride walked around her future husband seven times. I was captivated as close family members and friends read the Sheva Brachas or seven blessings and I cheered as the groom finally stepped on the glass marking the beginning of their lives together.
As the groom and his Kallah entered 770 to break their wedding day fast, the rest of us walked back to the wedding hall to await their return. In this traditional setting the room is separated by a mechitza, or short wall. The men celebrate on one side of the mechitza and the women on the other. After a delicious dinner the entertainer revved up his keyboard and the wedding hall exploded into a sea of joyful dancing. Even I, a 54 year old Connecticut-born Yankee, couldn’t resist the urge to jump into the frenetic activity on the dance floor. Before I knew what I was doing I was surrounded by an energetic mass of young and older men who exuded joy and love as they joined hands and celebrated with the Chosson.
When the evening finally came to a close I was both energized and exhausted. As I walked back to my hotel I could literally feel the tears of joy freezing on my cheeks in the frigid air. I had never felt so alive, so Jewish, and so happy in my entire life! This was what they meant by L’Chaim, to life!
Several hours later our 36 hours in Crown Heights came to an end and the Rabbi and I made our way back to the airport and eventually took off for the West coast. As I sat in my seat staring out the window I couldn’t help but wonder, how these Rabbis and their families could possibly leave Crown Heights, how they could give up that little bit of heaven on earth, that center of vibrant, pulsating Jewish life, to live in distant lands like Siberia, Thailand and Reno. Communities where there is little if any kosher food, Jewish schools, or close friends or family. Somewhere over Iowa it occurred to me that these Shluchim, these emissaries of the Rebbe must love their fellow Jews much more than we could ever possibly imagine. They willingly give up the comfort and joy of their Jewish communities to travel to tiny places on the globe to support, nurture and reach out to their fellow Jews, and they do so with little promise of financial reward or recognition. They do it because the Rebbe loved us, and they do it because they love us.
Before our visit to crown Heights I looked at Jewish life like a tourist reading a travel brochure; I’d seen Hawaii and it seemed real nice; but I’d never actually been there and smelled the ocean air, ate a pineapple or walked in the sand. After spending a mere 36 hours in Crown Heights I now possessed a clarity of vision I never knew existed. I’d seen, tasted, felt and participated in the activities of a thriving, energized, living, breathing Jewish community. It made me truly appreciate the personal sacrifices the Cunins have made for my community, motivating me to do even more to ensure our community also known as “The Biggest Little City in the World” appreciates and supports them and their efforts like never before.
L’Chaim!
Kugelhead.blogspot.com
Here is a simple question, which may have a complex answer. When was the last time you gave away something you truly treasured or gave up a piece of your own happiness to strengthen and enhance someone else’s life?
Chances are the answers are not often, and if you did make such a sacrifice, it was probably to benefit a very close family member. The idea of giving up an important part of one’s life for a total stranger is beyond the comprehension of most people. Yes, thankfully many give charity, and yes many volunteer to help others in need. What I am really talking about are selfless acts and deeds that are beyond compare and in some cases understanding. During my first visit to the Chabad Lubavitch community of Crown Heights in Brooklyn, New York I was both inspired and humbled by my experience.
Of course I had heard of Crown Heights since first discovering Chabad in 1983. Throughout the years myriad Chabad Rabbis had shared their personal stories about their lives and events in this unique Jewish community. Based on their vivid stories I envisioned the hustle and bustle of life in this tiny enclave and always promised myself that someday I would see what the “fuss” was all about. I just never imagined it would take me 26 years to get there.
In February of 2009 I was delighted to learn that my good friend Rabbi Meir Perelstein was engaged. He and his Kallah, Chanie Tarlow, planned to be married in Crown Heights the following month and invited me to share their glorious moment with them. As much as I wanted to be there the economic challenges surrounding me caused me to hesitate. After all, the economy was in shambles, the company I worked for was struggling and quite frankly, I was afraid of my personal economic future. Filled with trepidation I asked my Rabbi, Mendel Cunin, what I should do. His response was swift and without hesitation, “Steve the best thing to do when you don’t think you should or can afford to do something is to do it. You should eliminate the excuses and simply push ahead.”
Armed with his sage advice and the emotional support of my wife I accepted the invitation and made the appropriate arrangements. Shortly thereafter Rabbi Cunin informed me that he’d taken his own advice and had decided to join me. So together we set off on a grand adventure. We literally designed an itinerary that brought us to Crown Heights for a total of 36 hours. However, the true surprise was the final realization that these 36 hours were destined to be the most enlightening and inspiring of my Jewish life.
Upon our arrival in New York we embarked on a non stop journey of exploration. Our first stop brought us to "The Ohel" where the Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem M. Schneerson, of righteous memory, was laid to rest. I am not sure what I expected but I was overcome with a feeling of peace, love and contentment during our entire time there. The Rabbi and I wrote out prayers for guidance and blessings and placed them at the Rebbe’s Ohel. We then proceeded to Crown Heights and spent a wonderful evening sharing a delicious meal, which included three styles of Kugel, with the Rabbis’ sister and her husband. After a restful night’s sleep I rendezvoused with the Rabbi at the main Chabad Shul, known to most folks simply as “770. Upon entering this historic facility I immediately felt like I had been hit with a jolt of spiritual electricity. Surrounded by hundreds of men davening, studying and discussing the issues of the day I felt liked I was plugged into the spiritual essence that permeates every cell of the building. During the course of the day we were allowed to enter the Rebbe’s office and his library, we saw the Chabad online school which now makes it possible for the children of the Schluchim from around the world to learn from home until they are old enough to attend a Yeshiva or Seminary, we even found our way to the world famous Schmurah Matzo factory where Passover matzos are prepared from start to finish in a scant 18 minutes. It was an intimate tour of this precious community that will remain emblazoned in my mind’s eye forever.
Toward the end of the day it was time for the wedding. At 4:30 sharp the Rabbi and I met at Oholei Torah Ballroom where the celebration was to take place. I watched in wonder as Meir recited from memory his Maamer, a Chassidic discourse written by the Rebbe that explains the different levels of the connection of man and wife, as well as the direct connection between G-d and Israel, and how both concepts unite as the Chossin and Kallah are wed.
At the conclusion of his recitation an unassuming man of many years slowly arose from his seat and started to play a soulful, captivating melody on his violin. As the violinist played on, Meir’s father and father-in-law tenderly grabbed his arms and started a procession that led to the women’s side of the room. As we slowly made our way to the Kallah the gentlemen in attendance set the mood as they quietly hummed an ancient Chassidic tune. When we finally arrived in front of the Kallah, Meir gently placed a veil on her head. This simple, moving, tender moment brought tears to my eyes as I witnessed this ancient testimony to love, modesty and family purity. As a group we made our way back to 770 and the actual wedding took place under the Chuppah in front of the Shul. I was mesmerized as the bride walked around her future husband seven times. I was captivated as close family members and friends read the Sheva Brachas or seven blessings and I cheered as the groom finally stepped on the glass marking the beginning of their lives together.
As the groom and his Kallah entered 770 to break their wedding day fast, the rest of us walked back to the wedding hall to await their return. In this traditional setting the room is separated by a mechitza, or short wall. The men celebrate on one side of the mechitza and the women on the other. After a delicious dinner the entertainer revved up his keyboard and the wedding hall exploded into a sea of joyful dancing. Even I, a 54 year old Connecticut-born Yankee, couldn’t resist the urge to jump into the frenetic activity on the dance floor. Before I knew what I was doing I was surrounded by an energetic mass of young and older men who exuded joy and love as they joined hands and celebrated with the Chosson.
When the evening finally came to a close I was both energized and exhausted. As I walked back to my hotel I could literally feel the tears of joy freezing on my cheeks in the frigid air. I had never felt so alive, so Jewish, and so happy in my entire life! This was what they meant by L’Chaim, to life!
Several hours later our 36 hours in Crown Heights came to an end and the Rabbi and I made our way back to the airport and eventually took off for the West coast. As I sat in my seat staring out the window I couldn’t help but wonder, how these Rabbis and their families could possibly leave Crown Heights, how they could give up that little bit of heaven on earth, that center of vibrant, pulsating Jewish life, to live in distant lands like Siberia, Thailand and Reno. Communities where there is little if any kosher food, Jewish schools, or close friends or family. Somewhere over Iowa it occurred to me that these Shluchim, these emissaries of the Rebbe must love their fellow Jews much more than we could ever possibly imagine. They willingly give up the comfort and joy of their Jewish communities to travel to tiny places on the globe to support, nurture and reach out to their fellow Jews, and they do so with little promise of financial reward or recognition. They do it because the Rebbe loved us, and they do it because they love us.
Before our visit to crown Heights I looked at Jewish life like a tourist reading a travel brochure; I’d seen Hawaii and it seemed real nice; but I’d never actually been there and smelled the ocean air, ate a pineapple or walked in the sand. After spending a mere 36 hours in Crown Heights I now possessed a clarity of vision I never knew existed. I’d seen, tasted, felt and participated in the activities of a thriving, energized, living, breathing Jewish community. It made me truly appreciate the personal sacrifices the Cunins have made for my community, motivating me to do even more to ensure our community also known as “The Biggest Little City in the World” appreciates and supports them and their efforts like never before.
L’Chaim!
Thursday, February 26, 2009
The Rebbe Said....
"Never underestimate the power of a simple pure deed done from the heart. The world was not changed by people who move mountains, nor by those who lead the revolutions, nor by those whose purse strings tie up the world. Dictators are deposed, oppression is dissolved, and entire nations are transformed by a precious few acts of beauty, performed by a handful of unknown soldiers"
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