Parshas Pekudei (HaChodesh) 5785
- Torah Tavlin
- Mar 27
- 4 min read
אלה פקודי המשכן משכן העדת ... (לח-ח) - פרש"י עדות לישראל שויתר להם הקב"ה על מעשה העגל עכ"ל
The anteroom adjoining the study of the holy Chiddushei Harim, R’ Yitzchok Meir Alter zt”l, founder of the Gerrer Chasidic dynasty, was filled with people waiting to be received by the Rebbe and to be helped by his counsel and blessing. Near the Rebbe’s door stood his personal secretary, Reb Bunim, who presided over the waiting list; as soon as the door opened and a chasid would emerge from the inner room, all eyes turned to Reb Bunim, who would signal for the next in line to enter.
One day, a wealthy Jew dressed in high boots of glossy leather, a heavy gold watch-chain draped across his vest, a fur-lined jacket enveloping a generous girth in defense against the harsh Polish winter, entered the anteroom. The man wore an anxious and care-worn face belying his luxurious attire. Here was a man who had his troubles despite his wealth. The man scanned the crowded room and a frown clouded his already despondent features. Impatiently, he made his way to Reb Bunim. “I must see the Rebbe immediately regarding an urgent matter,” he whispered. “How much longer is the man inside going to be?"
“Have a seat,” said Reb Bunim evenly, “and I’ll put you on the list. What is your name, Reb Yid?”
“You don’t understand,” said the man, certain that the gabbai indeed did not understand. “I must see the Rebbe right now! I have an important meeting tomorrow in Warsaw, and I must be on my way shortly. I have no time to wait here.”
“But surely, Reb Yid, you don’t expect me to let you in before all these people who have been waiting for a while,” said Reb Bunim. “Some of them have been waiting for hours ...” But the rich man waved him away. “That’s exactly my point,” he said, beginning to lose his patience with the insolent secretary. “I cannot wait for an hour, or even half an hour. I need to speak with the Rebbe immediately. You can save your lists for people with more time on their hands.”
“I’m sorry,” said Reb Bunim, rising to the challenge to his authority. “You must wait like everyone else ...”
The crack of the merchant’s open palm against the face of the secretary resounded through the room, which fell into a shocked silence. It took Reb Bunim several seconds to realize he had been slapped across the face, and when he did, he just stood there, unable to utter a word. Nothing like this had ever happened in the Rebbe’s waiting room, where no one dared to even raise his voice at the Rebbe’s gabbai. In fact, the only one in the room not paralyzed by incredulity was the rich man himself, who, satisfied that he had at last made himself understood, proceeded toward the Rebbe’s door.
At that very moment the door swung open and the Gerrer Rebbe himself stood in the doorway. “How dare you raise a hand to a fellow Jew,” he thundered. “I shall not receive you,” he added, “until you ask mechilah and have secured the forgiveness of Reb Bunim, my gabbai, the man you so unjustly attacked.” With that, he closed the door behind him.
For a long second the rich merchant stood there staring at the Rebbe’s closed door. Abruptly, he turned on his heels and fled from the room. But something in the man’s face caught Reb Bunim’s eye and he felt a stir of mercy rising inside which caused him to hurry outside after his assailant. There he found him leaning against his coach, his large body racked with sobs.
“You came out after me?” said the man, when he saw who had followed him outside. “What do you want of me now? To heap insult upon injury? To make me feel even worse? It is you who has destroyed our last hope.”
“Your last hope for what?” asked Reb Bunim quietly. “For fifteen years we’ve been childless, my wife and I,” wept the man. “We’ve tried everything ... we’ve been to all the doctors ... I had hoped that the Rebbe would bless us with a child ...”
“Come with me,” said Reb Bunim, grabbing hold of the merchant’s hand. With a purpose of stride and before the sobbing man even knew what was happening, Reb Bunim opened the door to the Rebbe’s room and ushered him inside.
“Rebbe!” said Reb Bunim, with a sense of purpose that surprised even himself. “I swear that I will never forgive this man, not in this world and not in the world to come, unless the Rebbe promises that he and his wife will be blessed with a child!”
The Chiddushei Harim looked from the anguished face of the merchant to the determined face of his gabbai. Slowly, he broke out in a smile. “Yehi Ratzon - May it be the will of Hashem as Reb Bunim says...” And before long, it was. (L’chaimweekly.org)