MY FATHER!

It is ten years since the passing of the Chassid R’ Zalman Levin a”h of Kfar Chabad. He walked among us, but he belonged to the generation of giants, Chassidim who lived lives of mesirus nefesh. In a series of meetings with him, he recounted the story of his childhood in a Chassidishe home in the Soviet Union where children learned Torah and where kosher meat was secretly slaughtered. * Part 7 of 9

By Reb Shneur Zalman Levin a”h

Note from Menachem Ziegelboim:

While working on these chapters on R’ Zalman Levin’s life, I found something that R’ Zalman wrote about his father upon my request. In the following chapter, R’ Zalman tells us about his father, R’ Gershon Ber, in more detail.

We ended the previous chapter with the news that R’ Zalman received about the death of his father by the cursed Germans. Before we continue with R’ Zalman’s adventures, we will hear more about his father. I left the material as he wrote it, without editing it.

I was asked to tell about one of the genuine and precious T’mimim – may Hashem avenge his blood – who lived in the town that is holy to Anash, Nevel.

It is very hard to write and even harder not to write, but since one does not refuse etc. and if not now then when, I will try to describe my father, the authentic Chassid, who was broken and suffered all his life.

I would not be exaggerating if I said that my father was an outstanding personality even then, when Anash was in its glory, after Lubavitch; when the communists were not yet that powerful and Chassidus and good deeds rolled about in the streets everywhere, especially in towns of rabbanei and Chassidei Chabad of Lubavitch, may Hashem avenge their blood.

Inner truth was the goal and longing of the soul, and real hiskashrus to the Rebbe to the point of expiry of the soul was achieved in a way that is really hard to describe, especially during the times of evil decrees during which, in my time, the Yevsektzia began wreaking havoc upon all things holy and Anash began fleeing and scattering so that the wicked hand wouldn’t soon catch them. And still there were some of Anash who refused to leave the holy and precious town of Nevel, including my father.

In my time, I too began to experience the situation along with my friends, may Hashem avenge their blood, and to suffer terribly at home, in shul and in the town, materially and mainly spiritually. For those who did not experience all this it is very hard to describe the situation as it was then, as my father’s students R’ Zalman Morosov of Montreal along with Aharon Rubashkin and Zalman Shur well know, and they remember a lot of what it was like then.

I will begin, with Hashem’s help, to describe the man of mesirus nefesh, my father:

First – “Reishis Chochma Yiras Hashem” – every single mitzva and every bit of Torah learning and the saying of each bracha was done with truth, with genuine truth, with Chassidishe warmth, with all his heart. He always demanded of himself and others that the verse, “S’fas Emes Tikon La’Ad” (words spoken in truth stand forever) be fulfilled, as well as saying a bracha out loud and being particular to say “amen” loudly, especially in shul during Chazaras HaShatz, with all one’s heart.

Second – mikva. He ran to the mikva with mesirus nefesh, and when they closed down the last mikva he ran to the Koplina river. At the river there was a hut where one could undress, and I remember that he took me in the dark on snowy mornings to provide him with a bit of light in the snow, and needless to mention, it was like this during holidays too. Mikva was very dear to him, especially the pain of the women who traveled great distances for mikva, to all kinds of forsaken places. Their mesirus nefesh is indescribable.

Third – study of Torah and Chassidus and utilizing his time – he never stopped reviewing words of Torah, whether it was Tanya or the Mitteler Rebbe’s Derech Chayim or other s’farim of the Alter Rebbe. He would say and exclaim that going without learning is simply not possible. Wasting time did not exist for him. He always had to do something; no second could go lost, either to daven or rest or eat – and that also had to be done with alacrity.

Fourth – he kept his distance from pride to the nth degree and absolutely hated showiness to the point that he did not want an aliya on Shabbos and Yom Tov. He would only be willing to have an aliya at Mincha on Shabbos and during the Torah reading on Mondays and Thursdays.

Fifth – he was particular about cleanliness despite the lack of water, as there was no indoor plumbing but only a barrel of water. During the winter months the water was frozen, even in the house. Water was very limited (which is a story in itself), but he would wash a hundred times a day and expect us not to utter Hashem’s name without washing our hands. There was always negel vasser at our beds (by the way, the lake in Nevel had excellent water from a spring that flowed forcefully day and night).

The water was so frozen that it took a long time until a bit of water was heated for a cup of tea or for small children. It would be heated in a samovar or primus with wood chips.

Sixth – he would never eat before noon. It is hard to understand how this man lived. There were times that we were given meat scraps from the stomach of a cow from R’ Chaim the butcher (Berzin). When we got this, it was cause for celebration. We cleaned it and my mother cooked it, and it was very tasty with cabbage. However, when my mother served it to my father, he would move away so as not to look at the food. He always took a volume of the Mitteler Rebbe’s s’farim and would look into it during meals.

He never ate until he spoke to us about stories of tzaddikim and only then did he eat, and he ate quickly so as not to waste time, so he could rush to shul or rest a little. In short, it was iskafia at every moment, in his body and soul, but all this was without joy because the simcha was taken from him due to his many tzaros.

I remember that at kiddushim, he would serve the chulent; and of course, there were a few who pounced on it. He would take a bottle of mashke and pour it on the chulent and say, “Now eat.”

Even with our eating and drinking he was particular that we not be gluttonous, even when we were starving or thirsty. Water was measured out. He would say, “Drink slowly,” even during the hot summer.

Seventh – when they made frequent farbrengens, they would serve something in order to be able to get down the harsh whiskey, and then he would pour forth wellsprings of Chassidus and tell stories until four in the morning.

Eighth – Avodas HaKodesh. He was a Shamash in the shul. He worked with endless devotion and kept it clean; everything sparkled. We drew the water from the distant well with pails, and in the winter the water in the pails would freeze over. Often, the goyim would spill the water out of the pails. Many tears were in that water, maybe more than water.

He was particular about the cleanliness and the care for the s’farim in the shul. He loved s’farim, especially sifrei t’filla and stories of tzaddikim, and he would take good care of them.

There were logs for heat in a corner of the shul. Sometimes there were no logs there or at home because there was no money.

My mother helped at home and in the shul by preparing water, bringing in wood for heating, washing utensils and the floor. (Repairs were often needed at home because it was broken down to begin with, from top to bottom, and it was necessary to constantly tape up paper on the walls and windows.)

Ninth – chinuch of children. It would be no exaggeration to say that this was something that he was infinitely devoted to, and as such it is hard to describe. He was particular with us that not a day pass without Torah, even during illness and bad situations, and if not Torah then T’hillim. My father paid us for every chapter of T’hillim that we knew by heart.

Tenth – prayer. He always davened with a nice voice and a niggun. When the Torah was read, he was completely focused on listening and answering amen after every bracha, out loud, and in the tonal style of the chazan.

His davening was word by word, like one who counts money. He would meditate during the Shma according to the Shulchan Aruch, especially when putting on his t’fillin. He knew the maamer “Yichaven b’Mitzvas Hanachas T’fillin” by heart, as it is explained in Torah Ohr and in the Siddur.

He blew the shofar nearly every year. It was a demonstration of literally trembling before G-d. It is impossible to describe the recital of the verses Min HaMeitzar etc. It was frightening to go up to the bima, as my relative Leibe Levin would often remind me, for it was unforgettable. It was terrifying. People wondered where a man like this got the strength. He did not eat on Rosh HaShana and nearly fasted. He would barely drink (also because there was nothing to drink). The liturgical niggun was precisely as the Rebbe Rashab said, and this is precisely the way the T’mimim said the verses.

Eleventh – Bein Adam LaChaveiro, interaction with his fellow man – he always helped others, even (l’havdil) non-Jews. He always smiled at every Jew and even non-Jews, just not to women. Then he would lower his dark eyes. He was very careful not to look at women and was particular that women cover their hair.

He had endless love for children, and the children, at the same time, were absolutely obedient to him. He did not give candy or money except for work and effort.

Twelfth – mitzva performance – endless hiddurim, t’fillin, tzitzis, baking matza, kissing a Torah, standing during Shmoneh Esrei, rising for the elderly and rabbanim, listening to Midrash and Divrei Torah, the secret davening of Chassidim, cherishing Torah and those who learn it; these were all the fabric of who my father was.

Thirteenth – his work as a melamed. He was a melamed bar poel (an effective teacher of young boys) – this is what the Rebbe said about him. R’ Yisroel Minkowitz recounted for me some stories from those days when he learned as his student: His swiftness in his holy work is unforgettable and it was all done with simcha and jokes, but when necessary, we also got a potch. We were very obedient.

He would learn with me at night after a full day’s work and hard labor even though he was exhausted. I learned by other melamdim and they were very tough and it was hard to get used to them. The demands were unbearable – to know b’iyun and by heart. This can only be understood when you recall the situation in those difficult and bitter days, living under fire.

***

There is no end to the description of this man, and despite all his deeds he was not satisfied with himself. It is not understandable how he withstood all the tzaros from within and without: poverty, fear, cold, raising children, problems with chinuch, police, the constant danger that the shul would be closed down. He was arrested several times and he nearly died several times at the hands of the interrogators. Several times he ran to hide out in the brush and in barns, to forests and he even hid in coffins. He was always miraculously saved and kept his tallis and t’fillin with him.

In short, he was accustomed to miracles.

To be continued