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By: Chaya Sora Jungreis-Gertzulin
Nineteenth of Av 5776, August 23, 2016. Hard to believe that it’s been seven years since the petira, passing of my beloved Ima, Rebbetzin Esther bas HaRav Avraham HaLevi a”h.
My mother was a larger than life personality. The world knew her as “The Rebbetzin”. An inspirational speaker and teacher. An illustrious author, noted columnist, shadchan to hundreds, and devoted shul rebbetzin. My mother filled Madison Square Garden twice, traveled the globe sharing words of Torah, and met with presidents and world leaders. But to us children, my mother was simply Ima.
Ima always knew what to say and how to say it. She was always available with words of advice and encouragement, and special tefillos when needed.
How I miss sharing good news and hearing a resounding “Mazel Tov!… Chasdei HaShem!” Every visit, every phone call ended with words of bracha. “Let me bentch you just one more time, one more bracha.” Ima knew what was in our heart and precisely what we needed to hear.
Like generations of Yiddishe mamas before her, my mother would say the words of Shema Yisroel with us at night. When I became a mommy, I held my little ones and softly said the words of Shema to them. It was a nightly ritual I continued until they were saying Shema on their own. And then, magically, I was once again saying Shema with my grandchildren when I was on “babysitting duty”.
Shema Yisroel, HaShem Elokeinu, HaShem Echad!
Shema, the timeless pledge of our nation. Our people’s cry throughout the ages. Words said as part of davening in the morning and evening. Shema, words said by parents with their children at bedtime. Shema, words to live by and words said when facing death.
Madison Square Garden 1973. An “Awakening for the Jewish Soul.” Through her inspiring message, my mother had the z’chus, merit to touch so many neshamos. As the program came to a close, a group of Yeshiva boys broke out in a spontaneous song of Shema Yisroel. Soon, thousands more joined. To this day, when I meet people who were there – many now in their sixties or seventies – they tell me that it was an event that remains with them.
Fast forward, many years later. It was a few weeks before my mother’s petira. Though weak physically, my mother’s spirit was strong. I remember Ima saying “I may be dreaming, but I am not sleeping”. My mother called to me, asking me to come with pen and paper, and write down an important message, a message that she wanted to share with Am Yisroel.
My mother told me that she was thinking of a mitzva that can unite all of the Jewish people. Something that is doable for everyone, no matter their background. My mother felt that the words of Shema were something attainable.
I share with you my mother’s words.
Many centuries ago, we all had a Zaydie. Our Zaydie was the most amazing man. His face shone like sunshine. His eyes sparkled like two brilliant diamonds.
Our Zaydie was Yaakov Avinu – our father Jacob. Zaydie Yaakov was so remarkable that HaShem sent an angel to change his name to Yisroel – Sar Kayl – a Minister of G-d.
Time passed, and the day came when HaShem sent a message to our Zaydie: It’s time to come home, and join Him.
Zaydie Yisroel called for all of his children and grandchildren to gather around him before he embarked on his final journey. He wanted to say something, but lacked the strength to do so. But his sons could feel what was in their Zaydie’s heart.. And so, in unison, they cried out: SHEMA YISROEL HASHEM ELOKEINU HASHEM ECHAD.
Their Shema Yisroel was so powerful that it took on the form of the “Shema Yisroel Tree”.
With time, a turbulent storm came and the beautiful Shema Yisroel leaves that were attached to the tree slowly but steadily began falling and blowing all over the world. But the leaves never forgot their identity. Although the Shema Yisroel leaves were trampled upon, swept away into the oceans, and even burned by so many, no one could take away their inner strength.
The eternal words of Shema Yisroel remained forever attached to the dispersed leaves. The song remained in their souls, and ultimately the leaves found their way back to the tree.
We, the Jewish people, sing the song of Shema Yisroel. It takes us back to the days of our father Yaakov. Even if we have forgotten our past, Shema Yisroel helps us reconnect, and HaShem promises us: Say Shema and then the unbelievable will happen – the tree will blossom again.
How true. The words of Shema never leave us but are forever etched upon the Yiddishe neshama.
During World War II, many Jewish children were placed by their parents in Christian orphanages, hoping that their lives would be spared from the barbaric Nazis by turning them over to non-Jewish guardians for “safekeeping”. Sadly, their “protectors” saw this as an opportunity to draw these unsuspecting young children away from their Jewish heritage.
Following the war, some children had surviving parents; some had only distant relatives, while others were left totally alone. When relatives tried to retrieve their children, it was to no avail. The priests and nuns in the orphanages claimed that there weren’t any Jewish children present, and the relatives needed documentation – papers that didn’t exist after the inferno of the Holocaust.
Deeply frustrated, the parents and relatives turned to several prominent rabbis, pleading with them to find a way to repossess their children – children at risk of losing not only their family but also their heritage.
Several rabbis were deeply moved by the pleas of the relatives and devised plans to save the children. In 1945, one of them, Rabbi Eliezer Silver, who served as an American army chaplain, went on a mission to rescue the Jewish children from a monastery in Alsace-Lorraine. But he too hit a stone wall, with the priests denying the presence of Jewish children.
The wise rabbi asked if he could return at night, and the priest in charge reluctantly agreed.
That night, when the children were in their beds, Rabbi Silver entered the dorm room and with much emotion called out “Shema Yisroel HaShem Elokeinu HaShem Echad!”
All of a sudden, souls were awakened. Children who were living as Christians suddenly remembered mothers and grandmothers who said Shema at night with them. They came running out of their beds, crying Mama! Mama!. Tears rolling down their faces, they clung to Rabbi Silver.
Rabbi Silver knew how to reach their pure souls. The power of a Yiddishe mama. The power of Shema Yisroel.
It is no coincidence that this week, Parshas Ekev, the week in which my mother left this world, includes the second portion of the Shema. My mother left a legacy behind. Say Shema. If you already do, increase your kavanna, concentration. Delve into its meaning. Teach its words to someone who doesn’t know it.
Shema – the power to bring back a nation.
Shabbat Shalom!
Chaya Sora
Chaya Sora can be reached at [email protected]
This article was written L’zecher Nishmas /In Memory Of HaRav Meshulem ben HaRav Osher Anshil HaLevi, zt”l and Rebbetzin Esther bas HaRav Avraham HaLevi, zt”l
