By: Chaya Sora Jungreis-Gertzulin

How does a great man say his final goodbye? What are his wishes, his concerns, his worries.

In Parshas Pinchas, HaShem tells Moshe that his days in this world are coming to an end. “V’neh’eh’safta el amecha, And you will be gathered to your people.” (Bamidbar 27:13) This alludes to Moshe’s neshama being reunited with his ancestors. For years, Moshe dreamt of leading his people into the Promised Land. Going back in time, Moshe pleaded to Pharoah to free Bnei Yisroel from the shackles of slavery. Moshe crossed the sea with the nation and led them through the desert for forty long years. And now, it was time to enter Eretz Yisroel, a dream come true.

But Moshe would only be able to see the land from afar. “Come up to Har HaAvarim and see the land that I have given Bnei Yisroel.” (Bamidbar 27:12) Moshe’s vision was quickly vanishing. But Moshe, being Moshe, his immediate thoughts were not about himself, but about the future leadership of the people he loved so much. Moshe didn’t wallow in self-pity, nor did he allow this letdown to overtake his emotions. He had one – and only one – concern, that of Am Yisroel.

Moshe turns to HaShem with his last request. “May HaShem…. appoint a man over the people who will go out before them and come in before them… and let the nation of HaShem not be as sheep without a shepherd.” (Bamidbar 27:17). Poignant words spoken from the heart. A sign of true greatness.

Moshe was known as anav mikol adam, the humblest of all men. Only someone who lives with true humility can learn and live acceptance and put others first. I think of each of my parents, who during their last days didn’t dwell on their own agony, but thought only about how they could lessen the pain of others. My father, HaRav Meshulem HaLevi zt”l, was in Sloan Kettering. Each day came with terrible suffering. Day after day, his condition weakened. But my father was first and foremost a rov, a man who lived his life for his people. And even as a patient, he never abandoned his mission – bringing his fellow Jews closer to HaShem.

Abba learned of Frank, a Jewish young man on his floor. Frank was in a bad place – physically, spiritually, emotionally. Abba wanted to share words of hope and comfort and asked one of the nurses to assist him in getting to Frank’s room. And though all wired up and connected to an IV pole, my father made it down the corridor to Frank’s room.

“I’m Rabbi Jungreis, what’s your name?”

“Frank.”

“And what’s your Hebrew name?”

“Oh, I’m no longer Jewish, I joined Hare Krishna, I have no need for a Jewish name.”

“You are always part of our nation”, my father said. “What Hebrew name did your parents give you?”

“Oh, some silly sounding name, Feivel.”

“Feivel, that’s a beautiful name. I will pray for you.”

My father wished him a refuah sheleimoh and over the ensuing days made several additional visits down the hall to Feivel.

Abba got weaker but his spirit remained strong. Indefatigable. He wouldn’t give in to illness, nor would he give up on Feivel.

One day, my son Yosef Dov was visiting, and he helped Abba on one of his walks to see Feivel. They found Feivel crying. Yosef Dov waited outside while my father spoke to Feivel. He shared his recollection with me.

“What’s the matter, my dear friend?” Feivel related that the doctors told him there was nothing left to be done. His body wasn’t responding to treatment. They suggested hospice, where at least his elevated levels of pain could be managed. “And now”, Feivel said, “I am so afraid. What will I say when I meet G-d above?” Together, my father and Feivel cried.

My father began saying Shema. “Say the words with me, Feivel, and when you meet your Creator, you will tell Him ‘My name is Feivel, and I said Shema. I came home’.”

To think of not your own pain, but of someone else’s.

When my mother a”h was in Maimonides, word got around that the Rebbetzin was a patient there. Her room was like a magnet. Even nurses and other medical staff who weren’t assigned to her floor came to her room, just wanting to do something for the Rebbetzin. One nurse, an older single, came day after day. On one such visit, she approached my mother and with great respect asked if the Rebbetzin could give her a bracha. “Please, Rebbetzin… for a shidduch.”

My mother was in so much pain, but it didn’t matter. A girl is asking for a bracha. A member of Klal Yisroel was hurting and needed to hear kind, comforting words. My mother pulled herself together, placed her hands over the nurse’s head, and gave her a most beautiful, heartfelt bracha.

Shortly after, the neshama of my beloved mother, Rebbetzin Esther bas HaRav Avrohom HaLevi, ascended to the Heavens. But like my father, she never forgot her love for her people… to the very last moment.

Not long after, I received a phone call. It was the nurse. She became a kallah. Unbeknownst to her, it was the day of my mother’s shloshim.

HaShem said to Moshe, “Kach lecha, Take for yourself, Yehoshua bin Nun, ish asher ruach bo, a man of spirit.” (Bamidbar 27:18). Kach, take. Rashi explains that HaShem was telling Moshe to “take” with kind words. To encourage Yehoshua, and to tell him how fortunate he was to have merited to lead Bnei Yisroel. “A man of spirit”, a person (Yehoshua) in whom there is the spirit of HaShem, enabling him to deal with the diverse individuals and varied personalities that comprised Bnei Yisroel.

Over the years, Moshe endured so much. Battles from external enemies and heartache from his own people. A leader must be understanding yet strong-minded. Tolerant yet determined. Accepting yet resolute. Attributes that Yehoshua could claim.

Pirkei Avos (1:4) teaches in the name of Rabbi Yosi ben Yoezer, “Make your home a meeting place for sages, sit in the dust of their feet, and drink of their words thirstily.” That was Yehoshua. He stood by Moshe’s side, learning from all his actions. Incorporating traits that made him worthy of continuing the legacy. And us, what can we do? We, too, can look at our leaders and scholars, learn from their ways, making their teachings intrinsically part of our lives. We can learn from Moshe. Even during times of personal challenge and difficulty, even when our own dreams and aspirations may not be materializing the way we wish, to take the high road and think of others.

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