Shabbos Stories for

Rosh hashanah 5777

Volume 8, Issue 1 1-2 Tishrei 5777/ October 3-4, 2016
Printed L’illuy nishmas Nechama bas R’ Noach, a”h
For a free subscription, please forward your request to [email protected]

Tales from the Midrash and Our Gaonim

A Man’s Destiny Is Decreed

On the New Year
By Rabbi Sholom Klass
On the first night of Rosh Hashanah, Rabi Shimon ben Yohai had a dream.
He dreamt that his two nephews would be fined 600 dinars by the government. The
following morning he visited his nephews and persuaded them to
become gabaim for the community. They would be in charge of dispensing the
charity to the poor. By enabling them to deal in charity, he hoped to avoid the
harsh government decree from becoming effective.
“But who will provide us the money to give to the poor of the community?”
they asked him.
“You advance the money and keep a record of every penny you lay out. At
the end of the year the community will reimburse you,” Rabi Shimon answered
them.
They agreed and undertook the job. Sometime later, a jealous person
complained to the government that they were dealing in silk and merchandise and
not paying taxes. The following day an elderly tax collector appeared and
demanded that they pay the government a fine of 600 dinars. They protested their
innocence, but the tax collector would not listen to them and they were
subsequently jailed.
When Rabi Shimon heard of this matter, he visited them in jail.
“Tell me,” he asked them, “how much money did you raise for charity
during the last year?”
Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 1
 “You will find it recorded in a book which we keep in our house,” they
answered him.
Rabi Shimon visited their home and began examining their book. He saw
that they had laid out 594 dinars, only six dinars short of 600.
Visiting them again in jail he said, “Give me six dinars and I will free you
from this jail.’’

The Tax Collector Demands 600 Dinars

“How is that possible?” they asked him. “The tax collector demands 600
dinars and you only ask for six dinars to free us.”
“Regardless,” he answered them, “give me the six dinars and I promise to
free you today.”
They gave him the money and Rabi Shimon then visited the tax collector
and bribed him to accept the money and forget about the case.
“They have no money to pay you,” he told the collector, “so what will you
gain by keeping them in jail? Take these few dinars, free them and drop the case
and no one will the wiser.”
The tax collector agreed and he freed them.
When they arrived home they asked him, “How did you know that it would
only take six dinars to free us? Did you have any inside information on our case?”

Reveals the Content of His

Rosh Hashanah Dream
“No,” he said, “but last Rosh Hashanah night I had a dream that you would
be fined 600 dinars. Counting the money you gave to charity, I figured that you
were still six dinars short. Therefore, I knew that the collector would accept the six
dinars and he would free you. Great is the power of charity.”
“If you had told us about this at that time we would have gladly donated the entire
600 to charity,” they said, “rather than undergo this aggravating experience and be
placed in jail.”
“If I had told this to you at that time,” said Rabi Shimon bar Yohai, “you
would never have believed me and you would never have given me any money for
charity. Also, I wanted you to really give the money for the sake of charity, not to
escape punishment.”

Reprinted from the September 16, 2016 edition of The Jewish Press.

Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 2

A Slice of Life

Beryl Vogel’s
Trip to the Hospital
By Tzvi Jacobs
The sweet aroma of honey cake and cookies for Rosh Hashana filled the air
of Tzipporah's apartment. Tzipporah Vogel and her husband, Aaron Yoseph, lived
with their seven children on President Street on the border of the Jewish section of
Crown Heights, Brooklyn.
Outside, the school bus stopped across the street from the Vogel's apartment,
and 8-year-old Beryl excitedly skipped off the bus, full of anticipation for the
coming holiday.
Barely a minute passed when Tzipporah heard a rapid knock on the door.
Her 7-year-old son, Levi, ran in, followed by a neighbor's daughter. "Beryl was hit
by a car!" the girl shrieked. Tzipporah flew out toward the street.

The Boy Had Been Seriously Injured

A van had driven around the bus, disregarding its flashing red lights, and
rammed right into little Beryl, smashing into his head. There were no visible,
external signs of injury, but those who witnessed the accident knew that the boy
had been seriously injured.
A large crowd of neighbors stood in the middle of the street. Tzipporah
darted straight through the crowd and saw her son on the ground.
"Beryleh, Beryleh, it's Mama. Beryleh, Mommy is here," Tzipporah said, as
she leaned on the ground next to her son.
No response. "Beryleh, can you hear me? Beryleh," his mother kept
repeating. Someone held her back from holding her son. "Don't touch him,"
warned a number of people. "Hatzalah (the Jewish volunteer ambulance) is on the
way."
The police and ambulance arrived two minutes after Tzipporah. The medics
paged the City Ambulance to bring spinal equipment to move Beryl.
Aaron Yoseph arrived moments later. As he reached the scene, Beryl was
being set onto a stretcher. Before leaving with the ambulance, Tzipporah asked a

Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 3

neighbor to make sure someone would call the Rebbe's office. The woman
answered that some one had already spoken to one of the Rebbe's secretaries.
"Beryleh, the Rebbe is praying for you. Now I know you're in good hands,"
Tzipporah said.
People in the Rebbe's shul were already saying Psalms for Beryl as the
ambulance sped to Kings County Hospital, about fifteen blocks away. In the
emergency room, Tzipporah continued to repeat her son's name in his ear.
"Okay," Beryl finally responded.
"What hurts you, Beryleh?" Tzipporah asked.
"Ich veis nit (I don't know)," he said, and then slipped back into
unconsciousness.
Doctors rushed in and took over, sending Tzipporah out. The corridors of the
hospital quickly filled with friends and relatives.

CAT-Scan Revealed Internal

Bleeding and Bruises on the Brain
In the emergency room, the unconscious boy was X-rayed and checked.
Amazingly, Beryl suffered only one broken bone--a rib. However, the CAT-
scan revealed a small fracture on the skull and internal bleeding and bruises on the
brain. Neurologists were called down to diagnose the severity of the injury. Tubes
were inserted into his lungs to keep him breathing, electrodes were taped to his
chest to record his heartbeat, and a bolt was drilled into his skull to monitor the
pressure on the brain. Even one small bruise on the brain could be fatal if the
swelling increased, especially in a child. The doctors were also very concerned
about the blood clot expanding.
Beryl was heavily sedated to ensure that he would not move around. The
amount of pressure (measured in HUs) on the brain was elevated, fluctuating in the
20s. Anything above 20 HU was very serious. The parents watched the numbers,
not knowing which way they would go.

The Eve of Rosh Hashana

The following day, Wednesday, was the eve of Rosh Hashana. Almost all
the Jewish doctors were taking off for Rosh Hashana and a long weekend. Many of
them said they would say special prayers in their synagogues for Beryl. There was
little else the doctors could do; it was clear to all that everything was in G-d's
hands.
On the eve of Rosh Hashana, when parents and children customarily call to
wish each other a good, sweet year, the news was passed around -- literally all over
the world -- to pray for Beryl ben Tzipporah.
Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 4
 On Thursday -- the first day of Rosh Hashana -- Beryl developed
pneumonia. In such a weakened state, pneumonia was life-threatening, and the
doctors kept trying different medications to fight it. The battle was wearing down
little Beryl.
A family member reported each new development to the Rebbe. Aaron
Yoseph and his wife watched the brain pressure monitor. Towards the end of the
first day of Rosh Hashana -- two days after the accident -- the pressure seemed to
be steadily going down. A CAT-scan on Friday revealed that the bleeding in the
brain had stopped. The doctor instructed the nurses to stop giving Beryl sedatives,
unscrewed the monitor mounted on Beryl's skull, and removed the machinery from
his lungs and mouth. Immediately, Beryl wiggled his head and his torso. Within a
minute, he slowly opened his eyes.
"Good Yom Tov, Beryleh," said Tzipporah, with tears in her eyes. "It's Rosh
Hashana."

Softly Singing “Avinu Malkeinu”

Tzipporah started softly singing the Rosh Hashana prayer "Avinu
Malkeinu." "Avinu Malkeinu Chatanu Lefanecha -- Our Father, Our King, we have
sinned before You..."
"Mama, on Rosh Hashana, you don't say 'Chatanu Lefanecha,' " Beryl said.
Tears of joy and relief flowed from Tzipporah's eyes: Beryl's mind was as sharp as
ever. Beryl saw the tzedaka box and picture of the Rebbe that his parents had put in
the room. He smiled.
"Mama, can I hear the shofar?" Beryl asked.
"Aaron Yoseph, Beryleh wants to hear the shofar!" Tzipporah cried out.
Aaron Yoseph came into Beryl's room and softly blew the shofar for his son with
all his heart and soul.

The Doctor’s Uncharacteristic Smile

On Saturday afternoon, Dr. Sherman, the resident who had conscientiously
worked with Beryl from the very beginning, reported to Tzipporah, "Your son still
has an elevated temperature." Then, with an uncharacteristic smile, he added, "But
he's recovering very quickly."
That night, Tzipporah spoke again to Dr. Sherman about Beryl's condition.
"You know your son is very, very lucky," he said. He was silent for a moment and
then hesitatingly asked, "Have you been in touch with Rabbi Schneerson?"
"The Rebbe? Of course. The family has been in touch with the Rebbe from
the very beginning," she said. Then, with a serious look added, "Doctor, we all

Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 5

pray to G-d and He hears everyone's prayers, but the Rebbe's prayers are heard and
answered."
On Tuesday, only one week after the accident, Beryl dressed himself. His
shoes, which were brand new before the accident, made him realize how lucky he
was: the sole of his left shoe was rubbed paper thin by the accident. The hospital
released Beryl and his father drove him home.
While Aaron Yoseph was helping his son out of the car, Beryl said, "It feels
like I'm now finishing crossing the street."
"And I," said Tzipporah, "feel like I'm coming home from the hospital with a
newborn child."

Reprinted from the Rosh Hashanah 5756/1996 issue (#435) edition of “L’Chaim
Weekly,” a publication of the Lubavitch Youth Organization in Brooklyn, NY.
Excerpted from “Truths Revealed” by Tzvi Jacobs.

High Holidays in
Samarkand Highlighted
By Tearful Prayer
By Hillel Zaltzman
The High Holidays in Samarkand were an experience unto themselves. From
the beginning of the preceding month of Elul, a change could be discerned in the
atmosphere. The people of the community grew introspective, as each individual
tried to improve on his or her own religious observance and focus less on material
pursuits. One could sense that the Days of Awe were approaching.
The two days of Rosh Hashanah were solemn and awe-inspiring. Our
minyan took place in a private home, and was made up of some fifteen to twenty
men, each person sitting in his place, totally immersed in prayer. We were very
careful not to utter anything unrelated to the holiday, and even when we needed to
communicate, we preferred to motion with our hands so as not to get caught up in
idle talk. Every free moment was devoted to reciting Psalms.
At one point, we found out about the Lubavitch custom to arrange, by roster,
for the Psalms to be recited continuously throughout all forty-eight hours of the
holiday. One could sense that the Days of Awe were approaching. Although there
Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 6
weren’t enough people between us to arrange a full minyan for each shift, we
divided up the hours and each of us took a shift. The shifts would begin ten
minutes early and end ten minutes late, so as to ensure a seamless transfer, without
any interruptions. In that manner the Psalms were recited constantly, with the
exception of the times of the actual prayer services.

Grandma's painting of her grandfather praying.

As I write this, the memories draw me back to those wonderful days. I find
myself back in shul for the High Holidays, and it is hard for me to describe the
feelings that engulfed us in the small room our minyan was held in.
R. Berke Chein stands in one corner, covered with his tallis and saying
Psalms in a soft and tearful voice. R. Moshe Nissilevitch stands in another corner,
words gently drifting from his mouth. Dovid and Eliyahu Mishulovin sit with their
prayer shawls over their heads, reciting Psalms with tremendous concentration, and
so on.
As the minyan started, everyone began to daven with intense focus, each
person as their ability and energy allowed them. Each person looked inside his
prayerbook and uttered every word clearly, trying his best to think over the
meaning of the Hebrew words.
My father had managed to get a hold of a
traditional Chabad Tehillas Hashem prayerbook from an individual in Moscow.
His desire to acquire it was so great that he paid 700 rubles to buy it from him—the
Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 7
equivalent of an entire month’s salary! After we had obtained the Tehillas
Hashem, we were able to more accurately recite the prayers according to our
custom.
When the leader reached the Shemoneh Esrei, the silent portion of the
prayers normally recited together with the minyan, some congregants would still be
making their way through the various earlier stages of the prayers. Although we
always made sure we had enough people together before beginning Shemoneh
Esrei and enough people ready to answer to the Leader’s Repetition, we never tried
to hurry anyone. We simply didn’t dare interfere with someone else’s prayer.
This we didn’t dare interfere with someone else’s prayer silent prayer always
had a unique aura; whispered voices rose and fell, with the sound of quiet sobbing
in the background. One cried, another sighed, and yet a third shed tears silently
onto the pages of his prayerbook.
After the Leader’s Repetition on Rosh Hashanah, we tried to wait for those
who were still praying on their own so that they too could be together with the
minyan when the time came for the blowing of the shofar; while waiting, the
others recited Psalms. With Reb Berke leading the proceedings, the shofar-blowing
ceremony, including its prefatory prayers, lasted an hour. His tears would
intermingle with drops of sweat, soaking his prayerbook and the table he stood at.
After prayers of this intensity, even the way we walked down the street on
the way back home was changed. We walked with a focused mindfulness, our
heads bowed, looking only within our immediate vicinity. We hurriedly ate the
festive meal so as to provide sufficient time for the afternoon prayer and the
riverside tashlich ceremony. If I do not err, R. Berke would fast during the two
days of Rosh Hashanah, partaking only of the two nighttime meals.
I particularly remember Yom Kippur in Samarkand. R. Moshe Nissilevitch
would come to the house where the minyan was held, with his prayerbook and
Psalms, and remain there until after the fast. From the time he entered the house,
he would stand opposite the wall, covered with his tallis, murmuring words of
Psalms or praying quietly.
R. Moshe always made an effort to stand the entire day. He said it was his
father’s custom, and it was one that he kept his entire life. This was his Yom
Kippur: completely engrossed in his prayers, oblivious of the goings-on around
him; he still cried as he prayed always praying at his own pace, even if
the minyan was ahead of him.
His quiet, hoarse voice could barely be heard, and every so often a tear
would make its way down his cheek. His Shemoneh Esrei was quite lengthy, as he
tried to enunciate each word properly. He would often repeat words of the prayers,

Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 8

apparently to ensure that he had pronounced each one just so. He would be
extremely careful not to utter any unnecessary words outside of the prayers.
After leaving Russia, it was difficult to become accustomed to the different
type of conduct we observed elsewhere. During my first Rosh Hashanah in Israel, I
still cried as I prayed; but to be honest, those tears were less from the atmosphere
of Rosh Hashanah itself than from my longing for Rosh Hashanah in Samarkand.

Excerpted from the upcoming book Samarkand, by Hillel Zaltzman. Hillel is the
director of Chamah, an organization which works to share the beauty of Judaism
with immigrants from the former USSR. To help bring this book to fruition,
please contact the author.

Reprinted from the Rosh Hashanah website of Chabad.Org

Rosh Hashanah Thoughts

By Rabbi Aron Moshe Jacobsohn
Rav Aharon Kotler, zt”l, noted that the essence of Rosh Hashanah is
establishing the Kingship of Hashem. This is twofold, recognizing that Hashem is
the All-Capable King, as well as understanding that we are His nation, His
servants.
Rav Simcha Zissel of Kelm (Chochmah U’Mussar II, 152) notes that an
integral aspect of being the nation of a king is unity. To be a nation, we all have to
work together with a unified attitude.
Once, my father was shopping at a local hardware store for a few tools he
needed for a project. When he asked a store employee for assistance, an older
Jamaican fellow who was clearly not an employee asked to be able to care for my
father’s requests.
After helping him find all the items he needed for the project and making
sure to explain the best ways to utilize each item, the fellow offered an explanation
for his generosity. “It says in my bible, as strange as it may seem, that you Jews are

Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 9

the chosen nation. It also says that if we help you, we will be blessed, and that is
why I try to help your people whenever I have the opportunity.”
Let us imagine for a moment how the world would be if we treated each
other with the approach of recognizing that our fellow is part of Hashem’s nation.
If we respect each other and care for each other with this approach, we would see
such a beautiful world. This would enable us to have the requisite unity to
approach the New Year, to properly recognize Hashem’s sovereignty and be able
to overcome our differences. May you and your families merit to be written in the
Book of Life for a happy, sweet and successful year!

Reprinted from the Rosh Hashanah 5776 email of Torah U’Tefilah: A Collection of
Inspiring Insights compiled by Rabbi Yehuda Winzelberg.

Rosh Hashanah Treasures

The Secret of the

Coming Year (Shanah)
The Satmar Rebbe, zt”l, once made an insightful comment on the pasuk,
“Blow the Shofar on the moon's renewal, at the time that the moon is hidden
(ba’keseh), appointed for our festive holiday” (Tehilim 81:4).
Rosh Hashanah is the only Yom Tov on which the new moon is not yet
visible. Since Rosh Hashanah falls out on the first of Tishrei, the holiday is
observed when the moon is hidden. The Satmar Rebbe gave a deeper meaning to
the ‘hidden’ aspect of Rosh Hashanah, and that is the fact that we will not learn
what type of Rosh Hashanah it will be until the end of the year. We don’t know
ahead of time how our year is going to turn out, and it is a very frightening thing.
Not until right before sunset on Rosh Hashanah can one know how the previous
year has turned out, and until then, it is ‘ba’keseh’, hidden, and we must put our
trust and faith in Hashem that He will take care of us and do what is best for us.
This is one aspect of declaring Hashem our King on Rosh Hashanah. Rav
Chaim Shmulevitz once said that we may see an older person with a weakened
immune system catch a cold in the middle of the winter, which worsens and
worsens, and people attribute the cause to the harsh winter. However, such
calculations are incorrect, as the person actually caught the cold on Rosh
Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 10
Hashanah, because that is when it was determined exactly what was going to
happen later that winter. This is the awesomeness of the day of Rosh Hashanah,
where Hashem our King decides what our year will look like.

Reprinted from the Rosh Hashanah 5776 email of Torah U’Tefilah: A Collection of
Inspiring Insights compiled by Rabbi Yehuda Winzelberg.

An “Unusual” Rosh
Hashanah Concert in Spain
In Spain of August 1492, all Jews were ordered to leave the Spanish
kingdom. King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella had recently conquered all of Spain
and sought to make their new kingdom an entirely Christian nation. No Jews could
remain. Thousands of Jews fled, and within days, the Jewish community of Spain,
which had flourished for hundreds of years, had ended.
However, not all of Spain’s Jews had fled. It was possible to remain in
Spain, but every Jew had to publicly convert to Christianity and renounce all
Jewish observance. Many Jews lived outwardly as goyim in public, but held on to
their Jewish observance in secret.
On Friday nights, these secret Jews would shutter their windows so
neighbors wouldn’t see them light Shabbos candles. They would bake their challah
in hiding, and would whisper the words of the Kiddush. They knew their lives
were at stake if they were ever discovered. The Spanish Inquisition had begun
years before, and Jews were frequently killed when their secret Jewish lifestyles
became known.
Even though these Jews had apparently embraced Christianity, the secret
Jews of Spain were never trusted by the Spaniards. They called these Jews
“Marranos”, a disparaging term that means “pigs”, and many looked for any sign
of Jewish practice in order to turn them over to the Inquisition.
There was a large group of these secret Jews in the city of Barcelona who
clung to their ancient traditions. One person, a prominent Jew named Don
Fernando Aguilar, was the conductor of the Royal Orchestra in that city, and he
enjoyed great wealth and prestige. He privately kept all the mitzvos he could.
When he would come home each night, he kissed a Mezuzah that he kept hidden in

Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 11

his floorboards. He was careful to eat only Kosher food and observe the Jewish
holidays.
Some Mitzvos, however, were nearly impossible to observe, like hearing the
Shofar on Rosh Hashanah. Blowing a Shofar out loud would lead to an immediate
arrest, and death. After five long years of living this secret life, Don Aguilar saw
an opportunity. In 1497, he made a public announcement, that on Sunday, the 5th
of September, he would personally lead the Royal Orchestra of Barcelona in a
brand new concert of his own composition, and the piece he had written was unlike
anything ever heard in Spain before.
He declared that it was going to be a musical celebration of different people
and cultures from around the world, featuring every instrument ever invented from
across the globe, no matter how far away. The only thing he didn’t announce was
that it was also the first day of Rosh Hashanah. He generated much excitement for
his concert, and on the day of the performance, the orchestra hall was filled with an
over-flow crowd.
Also in attendance were those “Marranos”, but nobody seemed suspicious of
them. As the concert began, Don Fernando Aguilar was true to his word, the
audience heard interesting music from a wide range of instruments. There were
bells and horns, stringed instruments and an array of different drums.
Then, in the middle of the concert, a musician with the orchestra who was
rumored by many to be a secret Jew took the stage. He was holding an unusual
instrument: a ram’s horn. The musician put it to his lips, and began to blow. He
blew a Tekiah, a Shevarim, and a Teruah. Each note of the Rosh Hashanah Shofar
service rang out throughout the hall, one hundred notes in all.
Most of the audience appreciated it as a skillful performance of an
unfamiliar instrument, but to the secret Jews in the audience, Don Aguilar’s
“music” gave them their first chance in years to fulfill the mitzvah of hearing the
Shofar! (The Book of Our Heritage, Rabbi Eliyahu Ki Tov)

Reprinted from the Rosh Hashanah 5776 email of Torah U’Tefilah: A Collection of
Inspiring Insights compiled by Rabbi Yehuda Winzelberg.

Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 12

 Those Were the Days
By Larry Gordon

Rabbi Moshe DovBer Rivkin, a’h

“Er hut zich azoy ois gevaynt.” It was on Rosh Hashanah, during the reading
of the haftarah of the first day of the New Year, and Rav Moshe DovBer Rivkin
was inconsolable. The reading is from Sefer Shmuel aboutShmuel HaNavi’s
mother, Chana, who was childless at the time.
She desperately wanted children and beseeched G-d with a passion and a
profound sense of helplessness, hoping that this time He would not be silent, would
answer her prayer, and allow her to conceive and give birth to a child.
Chana’s experience and tefillah in the Book of Samuel, our sages tell us, is
the baseline of the best manner in which we should pray, in particular on Rosh
Hashanah.
The setting for the reading of this haftarah was the library of the Friediker
Rebbe, the previous Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok Schneerson, on the
upper floor of Chabad world headquarters at 770 Eastern Parkway in Brooklyn.
I don’t know the specific history of how Rabbi Rivkin, who at the time was
aroshyeshiva at Torah Vodaath, was the elder statesman or the leader, so to speak,
of this minyan that was only held on the two days of Rosh Hashanah and on Yom
Kippur. My father was the ba’al Mussaf, and on Yom Kippur the ba’al
Mussaf and Neilah, as well as the ba’al kriah.
Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 13
 My bother Yossy and I were somewhere between 8 and 14 years old, just
there to daven and observe, so that these impressions and memories of special and
precious days can last a lifetime.
As a kid, I would marvel and fail to understand how Rabbi Rivkin was not
more self-conscious about sobbing uncontrollably in front of so many people. As I
got a little older and studied the story he was reading, I began to understand what
he was weeping about as he was overcome with emotion.
A friend that I met in the neighborhood the other day asked me if I was
going to write this year about my Rosh Hashanah minyan experience at the top of
770. He was referring to an essay on the experience that I reran in these pages
several times over the last 15 years. I thought about it for a moment and then
decided that I would broach the subject again, but that I needed to reflect
additionally on that experience of so long ago and see what I could still conjure up.
I mentioned to this person that it was interesting how Rabbi Rivkin would
cry so much each time he read the haftarah even though he knew the story and
how it ended from previous years. But that was supposed to be an attempt at a little
comedy and nothing more. I knew early on that he wasn’t weeping about the sad
story of a childless woman, though there is plenty to lament about those
circumstances.
The rabbi was crying because that experience of Chana crying in
the Mishkanin Shiloh is representative of what it means to daven effectively and
ultimately with success.
As the reader knows, the haftarah recounts how the kohen, Eli, observed
Chana with her lips in motion though without any discernible sound. Eli, after
watching this scene, said to Chana: “How long will you be drunk? Remove your
wine from yourself.” To this Chana retorted, “It is not so, my lord, I am a woman
heavy of heart. I have drunk neither new wine nor old wine. But I have poured out
my soul before the L-rd. Do not regard your maidservant as a wicked woman, for it
is due to my great distress and vexation that I have been speaking until now.”
Eli replied to these words by saying, “Go in peace and the G-d of Israel will
grant your request which you have asked of Him.” There is more to the haftarah,
including the birth of Shmuel and his being dedicated to serve Hashem with rare
devotion and fervor all of his life.
As far as I can recall, this was the part of the haftarah at which the rabbi
sobbed so much that he could not continue. This story is not only recounted
because of the success of Chana’s prayer and the birth of Shmuel HaNavi. From
this—as we head into Rosh Hashanah 5776—we understand the formulation and
components of not just how to pray, but the all-too-distant reality that if our hearts

Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 14

and minds are in the right place, prayer—especially at this time of year—can take
us to high places with our wishes and hopes coming to fruition.
So almost a half-century after those beautiful and innocent days, I wonder
what it was that my father was davening about, what was on his mind; perhaps
sufficient time has elapsed for me to draw some conclusions about those prayers.
No doubt, as all people do, he prayed for health and happiness, and success
in all his and the congregation’s endeavors. And he probably also prayed for
nachas from his children and now grandchildren, which now in a different realm I
am sure he—and my mom, may she continue to live and be well—is having and
enjoying.
In the early years, Rabbi Rivkin was also the one who blew the shofar in this
minyan of about 30 or 40 people. I must have been in my teens when he just had
no koach to continue. I can recall him making a determined effort to belt out
those tekios, but there came a time when he just could not do it anymore. That’s
when he handed off the shofar to one of the younger men in the shul, who stepped
up and right into his appointed role and blew with a youthful, authoritative vigor,
signaling an unexpected changing of the guard. From that day forward, it was the
new younger man who kept the shofar with him in his tallis bag—the job, so to
speak, was his.
I relive these moments so as to take a cerebral tour with you of a Rosh
Hashanah past, which I could have just as easily done by searching my document
file and presenting the original piece that I wrote on this subject a decade or more
ago. But if I’d done that, I wouldn’t have had to think back and recall some of
these special moments of the past, which, when I picture them, come up not just
fresh, but alive in my mind’s eye.
The Friediker Rebbe’s room was relatively small. It was surrounded on four
sides by glass-enclosed bookshelves packed with sefarim. The glass doors were
locked; I never saw them open. This took place in the 1960s and early ’70s, though
the Rebbe had passed away in 1950. Rabbi Yosef Yitzchok Schneerson was not a
well man, and on Shabbos and Yom Tov, because he was in a wheelchair, he could
not descend to the main minyan in 770. He suffered with multiple sclerosis and
then toward the end of his life had a stroke and lost his ability to speak.
But as history has recorded, and despite his infirmities and difficulties, he
was a man of great vision with a fierce determination to rework the American
spiritual landscape and bring Jewish education and Torah to a land that many
perceived as being a material oasis and an opportunity to establish new lives free
of what many saw as the constricts of Jewish religious life.
“America iz nisht andrish,” he was wont to say. It was his credo, his battle
cry that his son-in-law, the next Rebbe, would carry on. That is, “America is no
Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 15
different.” That which worked and took hold in Europe 1,000 or more years could
be transplanted, cultivated, and successfully grown here in the New World in the
United States of America.
And a great deal of those battle plans were developed right up there in these
rooms where the Rebbe lived, worked, studied, and prayed, which in retrospect
were all one and the same. The history is deep and rich, and I glean bits of it from
what I hear from people and what I read in some of the books about Chabad that
have been on the market for a few years now.
My father davened smoothly, with earnestness and an understanding of the
task at hand. To me it looked like he was satisfied with his life and what he had
accomplished. He approached the task of leading this minyan in these hallowed
environs with both seriousness and a businesslike nonchalance.
These are not just the memories alone but the lessons of Rosh Hashanah—
that despite the hardening of a generation, we should not be afraid to break
ourselves down to the point where we can attach ourselves to our all-powerful G-d.
Rabbi Rivkin didn’t cry only because the story of Chana was a sad one. He
wept so uncontrollably because those biblical events provided a key and a conduit
to the understanding of how despite our personal circumstances, we possess the
ability to break through and evoke a clear response to our heartfelt tefillos on Rosh
Hashanah.
The story is told about a wealthy chassid who came to the Rebbe before Yom
Tov for a berachah. He was getting older and experiencing some health issues.
Before the Rebbe could bless him, the chassid told the Rebbe that in the year ahead
he would not mind if he had a little less parnassah but better health.
The Rebbe listened intently to the chassid’s request, but then admonished
him, saying that the Creator of the Universe, Our Al-mighty G-d, does not have to
make deals like that. “Hashem has the ability to give you the maximum and the
best of both.”
Let us all hope and pray for that type of uncompromising beneficence and
magnanimity from the One Above in the New Year ahead. Shanahtovah to all.
Comments for Larry Gordon are welcome at [email protected].

Reprinted from last year’s September 11, 2015 edition of the 5 Towns Jewish
Times.

Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 16

 Hashem, You Are My King
By Rabbi Moshe Meir Weiss
On Rosh Hashanah, after the tekios in musaf, we say “Hayom haras olam –
On this day the world was created.” This is difficult to understand since the world
was created on the 25th day of Elul, six days before. The universal answer given is
that on Rosh Hashanah Hashem created man (on the 6 th day of creation) and it is
only then that He became King. For, in order to be a king you need to have
subjects.
This after all is the central theme of Rosh Hashanah, to re-inaugurate
Hashem as our King. This is why we say tashlich by the water, since kings were
appointed by the water. This is why the chazzan, after nishmas, says HaMelech in
a haunting melody, to accentuate that Hashem is our King. This is one of the
symbols for the shofar ritual, to coronate Hashem as our Supreme Ruler.
It behooves us, in order to make our Rosh Hashanah experience spiritually
meaningful, to reflect upon what it means that we are renewing our commitment
that Hashem is our King. Here are some ideas.
1) As a Torah Jew, we can’t do what we want. Rather, we do what our King
tells us to do. We want to sleep in but the King says we have to go
to shacharis. We want to peek at the women passing but the King says, “Lo sasuru
acharei levav’chem v’acharei eineichem – Don’t turn aside to follow your heart
and your eyes.” We want to lie to get out of a sticky situation, but the King says,
“Midvar sheker tirchak – From any falsehood you should distance yourself.” We
want to explode and scream at our spouse, but the King says, “V’ahavta l’rei’acha
k’mocha – Love your fellow as yourself.” And many, many more such examples.
2) As subjects of our King, we proudly bear the King’s seal with our bris
milah, which is Hashem’s coat-of-arms. Similarly, we wear with distinction
Hashem’s insignia with our yarmulke, tefillin, tzitzis, sheitlach, snoods, and
tichels.
3) We will be more aware that our tefillah/prayer is a privileged opportunity
to have an audience with the King. We will therefore dress appropriately, pay
attention accordingly, and realize that our prayers, when listened to, can make a
huge difference in our lives.
4) Our Shabbos experience is a weekly affirmation that we are the subjects
of an All-Powerful King Who commands us that once a week we should desist
from any creative labor to remember that we are His complete and loyal subjects.

Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 17

 5) Reaffirming that Hashem is our King, we commit ourselves to making
His will the decisive factor in our decision making, thus fulfilling the all-important
command, “Es Hashem Elokeichem tirah – To fear and be aware of your G-d,”
which the Ramban teaches us is the positive commandment to use the fear of G-d
as an inhibition from doing something wrong and an incentive to live properly.
Knowing that Hashem is our Supreme Commander, we will mightily strive
to give Him nachas which is fulfilled by emulating His ways. Just as He is
merciful, we will be merciful.Just as He is gracious, we will be gracious, and we
will give Him “pleasure” by occupying ourselves with His greatest love which is
the learning of Hashem’s Torah.
In the merit of the coronation of Hashem as our King, may He bestow upon
us long life, good health, and a sweet and wonderful New Year.

Reprinted from the September 23, 2016 edition of the Matzav.com website.

The Fireman
By Nissan Mindel
Published and copyrighted by Kehot Publication Society

Many, many years ago, before there were any fire engines or fire brigades,
or electric fire alarms, and most houses were built of wood, a fire was a terrible
thing. A whole town, or a good part of it, could go up in flames and smoke. And
so, when fire broke out, everyone left his business or work, and rushed to help put
out the fire. There used to be a watchtower that was taller than the other buildings,
where a watchman kept a lookout all the time. As soon as he saw smoke or fire, he
would sound the alarm. The townspeople would then form a human chain between
the fire and the nearest well, and pass on to each other pails of water with which to
put out the fire.

Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 18

 Once it happened that a lad from a small village came to town for the first
time. He stopped at an inn, on the outskirts of the town. Suddenly he heard the
sound of a bugle. He asked the innkeeper what it meant.
"Whenever we have a fire," the innkeeper explained to the lad, "we sound
the bugle, and the fire is quickly put out."
"How wonderful!" thought the village lad. "What a surprise and sensation I
will bring to my village!"
Thereupon, the village lad went and bought himself a bugle. When he
returned to his village, he was full of excitement. He called all the villagers
together. "Listen, good people," he exclaimed. "No need to be afraid of fire any
more. Just watch me, and see how quickly I will put out a fire!"
Saying this, he ran to the nearest hut and set fire to its straw roof. The fire
began to spread very quickly.
"Don't be alarmed!" cried the lad. "Now watch me."
The lad began to blow the bugle with all his might, interrupting it only to
catch his breath, and to say, "Wait, this will put out the fire in no time!" But the
fire did not seem to care much for the music, and merely hopped from one roof to
another, until the entire village was in flames.
The villagers now began to scold and curse the lad. "You fool," they cried.
"Did you think that the mere blowing of the trumpet will put the fire out? It is only
the call of an alarm, to wake up the people, if they are asleep, or to break them
away from their business and work, and send them to the well to draw water and
put out the fire!"
We are reminded of this story when we think of the shofar that is sounded
many times on Rosh Hashanah. Some people think like that village lad, that the
sound of the shofar itself will do everything for them. They think that they may
continue to "sleep," or go about their business, there being no need to change their
way of life and daily conduct; the shofar sounded in the synagogue will surely
bring them a happy New Year.
But, like the bugle in the story, the shofar is but the sound of an "alarm." It
has a message: "Wake up, you sleepers, think about your ways, return to G-d, put
out the 'fire' that is threatening to destroy your Jewish homes. Go to the Well, the
Well of Living Waters, the Torah and mitzvot. Hurry, before it is too late!"
That is why, immediately after the shofar is sounded, we proclaim: "Happy
are the people who understand the meaning of the sound of the shofar; they walk in
Your light, O’ G-d.”
Reprinted from the website of Chabad.Org

Shabbos Stories for Rosh Hashanah 5777 Page 19