I daresay we are all looking forward to a new better year. We are still at war on several fronts and there are still Jewish hostages in the hands of our enemies. Some were murdered in cold blood. We don’t know the fate of many others. What we should we do now, as Rosh Hashanah approaches?
This Motzoei Shabbos, we will begin the recitation of Selichos. There is an extraordinary opportunity for each of us to make a difference. The Eliyahu Rabbah (565) cites a Medrash that illustrates the timeliness of the occasion: “The wicked Titus was on his way to attack Yerushalayim with 63 kings, each representing one of our enemy nations. Some of them were descendents of Eisav, others of Yishmoel. Each of them planned with glee to wipe out Klal Yisroel, r”l. However, we recited the prayer of Aneinu, which has 63 words, and we triumphed over the 63 monarchs.” As pointed out by the meforshim, although the Bais Hamikdosh was ultimately destroyed, Klal Yisroel was saved. Each word of Aneinu saved us from one entire nation.
Whether we say Selichos at night or during the day, if we truly cry the words out with all our kavanah, thinking of those who have suffered so much and those who are still in danger, perhaps each one of our words can save one languishing soul. Indeed, the meforshim point to the posuk (Tehillim 53:4) which states, “They are all saag (dross), together they have become depraved; there is no doer of good, there is not even one.” The word saag, made up of the letters samach and gimmel, adds up to 63, representing our 63 enemies. When Yaakov Avinu was afraid of Eisav’s menacing army, the Torah (Bereishis 32:8) tells us, “Yaakov became very frightened and it distressed him. So he divided the people with him and the flocks, cattle and camels into two camps.” The number of Hebrew letters in this posuk is 63. As the Ramban always teaches us, “Maaseh avos siman labonim – Whatever happened to the avos is a sign for his children.” We, too, can triumph over our enemies, but we must make this year’s Selichos count more than ever.
Let’s explore a few ways, be’ezras Hashem, to accomplish this goal. First a story.
Rebbetzin Leah Kolodetzky, daughter of Rav Chaim Kanievsky and rebbetzin of Rav Yitzchok Kolodetzky, related the saga of a very unhappy young man. The youngest child of an esteemed Yerushalmi family, his six brothers had all learned in an elite yeshiva, but he was not accepted as a talmid. He became nervous during the farher and did not make the best impression. No amount of persuasion helped and he became understandably depressed. His brothers made wonderful shidduchim, but he was forced to attend a much smaller less prestigious bais medrash.
Walking through the streets of Yerushalayim one day, his head down in dejection, an older woman suddenly approached him. “Are you a yeshiva bochur?” she strangely inquired. Our young friend was not particularly interested in retelling his life story at that moment, so he merely answered respectively, “Yes, maam.” The woman explained the purpose of her interrogation. “I am starting a Pirkei Avos shiur in my home on Shabbos afternoons. Would you be interested in giving such a class?” she asked. He thought for a moment: “I can’t become like my brothers anyway. I don’t know how I’m ever going to get a shidduch where someone will provide me with an apartment. I might as well do something positive. Maybe this is what Hashem wants from me at this time. “Yes, I will do it,” he answered with a smile, for the first time in a long while thinking that perhaps his life actually does have some meaning.
The shiur was a success. The older gentlemen loved the young man’s explanations, parables and energy, and he became quite adept as a speaker. Even after the summer Pirkei Avos season was over, the shiur continued on as parshas hashovua. After six years in the yeshiva, he was ready to move on and the shiur ended. He was now ready for shidduchim, but, again, there were no significant offers. One day, a wonderful young lady from a poor home was redd to him, and he accepted, but his depression returned once again, for he had no dirah and no way to obtain one. He now davened, “Ribono Shel Olam, why? Why am I so much less than all my brothers? What will become of me?”
Soon after, his phone rang. It was the strange lady who had first offered him the “job” of Pirkei Avos maggid shiur. “Could you meet me outside my home for a moment? I would like to tell you something.”
Polite as always, he made his way to her home, but was still under the cloud of gloom that had set in again. To make matters worse, the lady’s face did not register happiness either. In fact, she, too, seemed to radiate grief or contrition. “Was it something I did or said?” he wondered. Then came her own extraordinary story.
“My father,” she began deliberately but softly, “was a Nazi officer. He murdered many Jews in the Holocaust. When I became older and realized what he had done, I was horrified. I was so distraught about his evil deeds that I began to study about the Jewish people. After a few years, I went to a rabbi” – she mentioned the specifics – “and converted to Judaism. We were a rich family and I inherited enough – perhaps it was actually Jewish money – to move to Israel. I have a beautiful apartment in Rechavia with four bedrooms. I was always hoping that I would find an appropriate young man in need of such a dwelling, and perhaps giving it to him would serve as something of an expiation of my father’s terrible sins. You are my choice. Would you please accept this as my gift in exchange for the six years you gave that wonderful shiur in my home?”
He agreed, and they went immediately to a lawyer’s office, where she signed over the deed to what turned out to be a very valuable asset.
Our new chosson with a dirah ran to the Kosel immediately. “Ribono Shel Olam,” he began his tefillah, “I came to ask forgiveness. I didn’t understand Your plan or appreciate what You did for me. For six years, all I did was moan, ‘Why me?’ But all along, You made sure that I would know to speak in public and prepared me for a successful married life. I don’t know how to thank You properly.”
Rebbetzin Kolodetzky concluded the story by relating that he did indeed become a maggid shiur, a rov, and a wonderful husband and father.
When we come to Hashem during Selichos, we must remember that not only does Hashem run the world, but everything He does is for our benefit. We should approach Him as the loving Father He is. Avinu Shebashomayim has a master plan for our nation and for each individual. Of course, our tefillos matter greatly, but we dare not forget the great kindness He has done for us throughout the centuries and millennia of our national existence. Just as this young man achieved his life’s goals by doing something for others – for six long years – so must we seek to emulate Hashem’s chassodim during Selichos.
The great mashgiach, Rav Yeruchum Levovitz, was once leaving on a train to speak in some villages near the Mir. It was the middle of the fierce Lithuanian winter and he was waving from the window to his talmidim. A gust of wind blew away one of his gloves, and as the train pulled away, he quickly threw the other one out as well. As he later explained in the bais medrash, he knew that neither he nor the talmidim could do anything with one glove, but whoever caught them both could at least benefit.
When we think of others all the time, Hashem then takes care of us as well.
Even more importantly, Rav Aharon Leib Shteinman was once approached by a family with seven daughters who were all in shidduchim. Years had passed and none of them were married. The parents turned to the rosh yeshiva for advice. Without hesitation, he suggested that every member of the family – the seven girls, their brothers, and of course their parents – should put up a vitur chart in a prominent spot in the house. Every member of the family should write down when they had given in to someone, relented, gave way, yielded or acquiesced to the needs of others, even if they thought they were right or had priority. The family followed the advice of the gadol hador, and soon the chart was filled with wonderful instances of vitur. By the end of the year, all the girls were engaged.
Of course, we cannot minimize the suffering and tragedies of the korbanos in Eretz Yisroel last Simchas Torah. What we can do is to be thankful for our own blessings from Hashem, accept the things we do not understand, and make sure to do as much as we can for others, especially giving in when it is difficult. Hopefully, those kinds of korbanos can end the tragic kinds of sacrifices that have occupied all of us during 5784, so that 5785 will become a year of mechilah, selicha and kapparah for us all.
