WHEN THE CHILDREN BECOME THE TEACHERS

An interview with Mrs. Shoshi Klein, mother of one son and two daughters, who were instrumental in the family becoming a full-fledged Chassidic family

By Rocheli Dickstein

How did it all begin?

I was born in Switzerland and made aliya at the age of seven.  My parents were not Lubavitch, but Chabad was always close to our hearts.  My grandfather was a mekurav and mekushar of the Rebbe.  I have Lubavitcher cousins. We lived near the Chabad neighborhood in Yerushalayim which is why my best friends were Lubavitch.  But despite the closeness, we were not Lubavitch.

I attended Beis Yaakov.  The chinuch in the Israeli frum world is black and white.  You did something good? You will go to Gan Eden. You did the opposite? Oy, what will happen to you…  There is lots of fear-mongering and a lot of talk about the negatives.

On Lag b’Omer of the year I became engaged to my husband, I went to Miron.  I came across the Chabad stand and they suggested that I write to the Rebbe through the Igros Kodesh.  I wrote to the Rebbe that I want a bracha for a shidduch and the answer was about shidduchim in a good and successful time.  It was a moving moment. I think that that is where my deep connection with the Rebbe began.  The bracha was fulfilled and we got married.  We would often be asked, “Are you Lubavitch?” Apparently it was because of our way of dress.  My husband wore a kapote which is like a sirtuk and he wore a hat with a pinch. I wore a wig and it confused people. But no, we weren’t Lubavitch yet.

We ended up in Beit Shemesh.  The area is not at all ultra-Orthodox but there was a Chabad shul near our house.  My husband went to one t’filla to try it out and he loved it.  There were great people and a steady minyan on Shabbos.  A few days later there was a Hachnasas Seifer Torah to the shul.  We went and I met very nice women.  I met the shlucha who invited us for Shabbos.  We were happy to accept the invitation.

We went to them the very next Shabbos.  The children sat at the table and behaved like little shluchim in every respect.  We were amazed.  The atmosphere, the simcha … It was special.  As parents to a little girl we thought, this is how we want our children to look.  How do they do it?

The first thing to do was register her for the Chabad preschool.  She went there happily and came home with niggunim and chassidic concepts.  We heard chapters of Tanya by heart and were thrilled.  It wasn’t only because whatever the oldest child does is exciting, but also because the teacher taught her to recite Tanya which is full of complicated, difficult words, and not just some story empty of content.  I asked the teacher, “How do you do it?” and she led me to the main wall on which were hung pictures of the Rebbeim and she said, “It’s them; not me.”

A process began.  At first it was my daughter in the Chabad preschool and my husband davening in the Chabad shul, but when we saw the chinuch she was getting, how she came home with real love for Torah and mitzvos, we decided we wanted to belong to this.  We didn’t want to remain just as mekuravim, as nice as that was, but to be part of the Chassidic family.  It is easy to be a mekurav; it doesn’t obligate you.  But if you want the truth of the matter, you need to go all the way.

One day, my daughter came home from school with a note about a Chai Elul farbrengen.  In Beit Shemesh, the women of the community meet at farbrengens and but not much on Shabbos.  This is because the city is constructed of many small communities in various areas.  I decided to go.  A shlucha from B’nei Brak, named Yael, attended too.  She hypnotized me.  Whatever she said, I wanted to do.  At the end of the farbrengen she asked everyone to make a good resolution so we would arrive at Yud-Tes Kislev with “something.”  My resolution was to attend the Yud-Tes Kislev farbrengen.

What about external appearances?

It was just a matter of time.  My husband was first.  During S’fira he decided he would not shave until after Tisha B’Av and we would take it from there.  The beard grew and grew.  It wasn’t the growth of a seventeen year old and it was hard for me.  But I didn’t say anything.  I understood that a full beard is a heavenly flow and I tried to get used to it.  After Tisha B’Av it was too late to tell him to shave because the beard had become part of him.  On Rosh Hashana he decided to switch to a sirtuk.  Before he did, he asked his parents and my parents for permission.  It’s not a big difference between a kapote and a sirtuk and they said okay.

For me it was just about wearing a full wig because that’s what the Rebbe wants.  Aside from that, there were no other changes needed.

The entire process took a year.  Our parents were supportive and happy.  They saw that it was good for us.  The interesting thing is when we get comments from those on the sidelines like, “You did it smart.”  “If only I had the courage to do that.”  “How great for you.”  No one said, “What fools you are,” “Why did you do that?”

The most meaningful day was the day we bought a big picture of the Rebbe for the living room.  When I say “big picture” I mean one that is three meters across (over 9 ft).  It is from the Didan Natzach farbrengen.  That day I felt that our home is finally a Lubavitcher home.  There is nobody who is going to walk into our home and miss the fact that we are Chassidim.

What attracted you to Chabad?

(Without hesitation): Ahavas Yisroel.  And the beautiful simplicity that people have when it comes to material things.  You go to a farbrengen and on the table are rice and bamba.  You go to a wedding and everyone is dressed nicely but there isn’t the pretentiousness that you see elsewhere.  My friends from Beis Yaakov have to be and have to do endlessly.  It’s stressful.  In contrast, with my children I know that it makes no difference what they do or don’t have monetarily.  They will always be on a par with everyone else.

Chassidus provides tremendous simcha and a sense of mission in everything that I do.  For example, the Rebbe compares a woman to the high priest in the Beis HaMikdash. Whenever I go to cover the children at night, I feel like a shlucha shel mitzva.  It’s an instinctive motherly act but the Rebbe’s perspective changes the picture.  Every window that gets closed is done with such pleasure.  Ashreinu.

As someone who is coming from the outside, how did you handle the Besuras HaGeula?

I was nervous at first about identifying Moshiach.  It was a real concern of mine when I put my daughter in the Chabad preschool, but my husband said, “Better to be involved with Moshiach, which is a good thing, than with anything else.”  That convinced me and with time, the more I learned, the more my emuna was strengthened and my fears dissipated.

I think that someone who is uncomfortable with the Besuras HaGeula is uncomfortable because the Geula obligates you to change your habits.  But the truth is that the moment you understand that everything will change and there won’t be a yetzer ha’ra altogether, you realize that there is no reason to be afraid; on the contrary.  The Besuras HaGeula certainly doesn’t scare people off from getting interested in Chabad.

What would you like to tell young people who are standing at a crossroads and thinking about what path to choose?

I’d like to say one thing.  I am not sorry about anything in my life, but I would have been happy if I had been able to learn in Chabad from the beginning.  When you’re born to it, it all comes to you naturally and you sometimes overlook the fact that the Rebbe chose you himself.  That’s exciting!

I see my daughters coming home from school with the truth; it’s all real: the Ahavas Yisroel, the love for Torah and mitzvos.  They do it all with joy and pleasure.  It is very different than other places.  Here, when you do something positive, you give nachas to Hashem and the Rebbe, you are a soldier in Tzivos Hashem.  There are no threats and punishments.  It’s a pity they don’t all operate this way…

Aside from that, the children have true Jewish pride.  The feeling that they are different.  That they aren’t all carbon copies.  This is not something we have ever verbalized to them and I don’t think we will.  But we see the difference between them and children outside of Chabad.

In conclusion:

What was mekarev us was the chinuch of the children.  I don’t know any children from Beis Yaakov or any other group that knows how to say chapters of T’hillim by heart at age three, not to mention an entire chapter of Tanya.  They say a person becomes educated when he teaches his children, and that is precisely what happened with us.  I feel that it’s a tremendous privilege to be educated by my children.  It is thanks to them that we are Chabad Chassidim.

To be a Chassid means to live in the world without being fazed by its demands.  The only demand is to be happy and to want the Geula.  Two very fun things.  We are not asked to fast or afflict ourselves.  My feeling throughout has been that it is simple to be a Chassid, materially and of course, spiritually.  Everything automatically becomes illuminated internally.  It’s pure pleasure.