Disturbed at the Rebbe’s Ohel

By Rabbi Moshe Rabin

Goals are important. Ask any life coach, businessman, therapist, or teacher, and they’ll all agree – you need to know where you’re going in order to get there efficiently. Define your path well if you want a successful journey. That’s why so many organizations, schools included, create a mission statement: to highlight the steps they need to achieve.

At Rohr Bais Chaya Academy in Coral Springs, Florida, our mission is Raising Lamplighters: Inreach and Outreach. Our task is to raise students who will be neiros l’hair, lamplighters, wherever they are found. They will be committed to inreach, continuous personal growth that will be expressed through outreach according to the Rebbe’s directives.

Our mission hangs all over the school building as a constant reminder to our faculty and students alike to bring the abstract idea into practical action and make it real. It was on a recent trip to the Ohel in honor of Chof Bais Shevat that a student of ours demonstrated a shining example of bringing our mission to fruition.

Here is what by Chaya Mushka, of 12th Grade, experienced in her own words:

Have you ever been so set on a goal that when the opportunity to achieve it comes your way you completely miss it? Well, I have.

Stepping onto a coach bus is an overlooked, common action: I stepped forward with no intellectual thought process whatsoever. The bus will take me to my destination. But when your destination is unknowingly a life changing experience, this step becomes much more than just another passing moment.

Walking down the aisle, deciding which seat to settle into, I try to fade into the background. I take the seat in the second to last row, in the corner nearest to the window. I plop my bags down and gaze out the window, take a deep breath, and let my breath defrost the icy window. I am mesmerized by the world outside me, New York’s bustling city.

Getting lost in it, I start to contemplate where my life is leading me and who I have become; I begin thinking about the powerful things in my life, and about what motivates me. Going over a bump, my thoughts crumbling, I suddenly realize that I am getting off in a minute at the Rebbe’s Ohel. And I ask myself: what does this even mean to me?

Stepping off the bus, a chill runs through my body from the frosty New York weather. Inside the lobby area of the Ohel, I am squished amongst my classmates. I scan the room looking for a quiet place to sit and spill my heart out in the letter I will write to the Rebbe.

I get lucky and spot a chair in an empty room. I practically run toward it, so excited about my great find. I take a seat, pull together my thoughts, and stare at the blank paper before me, blocking out any noise around me.

Spiritually getting ready to visit the Rebbe and Rebbetzin’s grave, I am especially excited to visit the Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka, who I am honored to be named after. She is a woman who represents a beautiful person from the inside out. She is the definition of regal woman. This is the woman who I know I should surely be emulating.

Having to step out of my thoughts is frustrating when a lady taps on my back, disrupting my concentration. She starts talking to me in French. I try to explain to her that the only French I speak is “Bonjour,” and that I was in middle of something. She didn’t get the hint, and continued to talk.

So I ignore her with a grimace on my face. After a few seconds she walks away.

I delete her from my mind, trying to refocus myself on the amazing women I am named after and I continue writing about my new resolutions and the things that I am working on.

I feel like in order to be comfortable with saying that I am named after the kind, modest Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka, I need to start acting like her through my thoughts and actions.

All of the sudden, it occurs to me that I have just done the exact opposite.

I finish writing my pan and I run out of the room, looking for the French woman. I spot her, run up to her, and try to get through to her that I want to help her with whatever it is she needs. She replies, “I need Crown Heights to go, and I no speak English.”

So I organize a taxi for her and make sure she gets on her way safely. She thanks me profusely. And I tell her, “It’s the least I could do,” with a smile.
Was this the start of my growing journey in understanding and following the legacy of Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka?