Let Me Not Tell You a Story…

Once upon a time, something remarkable happened that I can’t tell you about.

The end.

Do you want to hear another one?

Once upon a time, something else remarkable happened that I can’t tell you about.

The end.

I’m bursting because I cannot share them, but I so badly want to.

I want to tell you the story of that family, when that happened, and this group of guys said hey, let’s figure this out and get this done, and you know what, they did it. They did it.

I want to tell you the story about this kid who was feeling, you know, and then at the thing someone said something to the kid, and the kid was like, wow, and then he, you know, got better.

I’m not making sense, I know.

But I hope that even with these fragmented thoughts, you’ll at least hear the awe and reverence in my voice, so that if you cannot know what happened and who it happened to, at least you can sense how I feel about the way their community responded and what they did to help.

These were real-life stories, nightmares that befell real people, normal, happy people, adults and children in our real community. The part I wish I could share is the part about the kindhearted, generous, selfless, unhesitating, please-don’t-thank-me emergency reaction of other people in the community.

You would cry if you heard the stories. Bitter tears of sadness for what people go through, but then, warm tears of pure love for the menshlichkeit of the ordinary people who rise to the occasion so extraordinarily for others in the community.

We have been blessed with an incredibly loving community.
The Rebbe writes in Hayom Yom that Chassidim would tell each other, “This bread is yours as it is mine,” and points out that they would put “yours” before “mine,” even greater than “Sheli Shelach.”

I kid you not, our community is chasing that standard; it is absolutely the destination, if we are not already there. “Hashem gave this to me to hold for you. Here it is.”

The Alter Rebbe writes to the Chassidim, “Ohavai yedidai, nuh v’nuh litroach b’chol lev v’nefesh, liskoa ahavas re’ehu bilibo.” “My beloved friends, please, please, try with all your heart and soul to instill love for your friends in your hearts.”

And the Frierdiker Rebbe explained those words to mean: whoever tries hard to instill love in his heart for his friends, the Alter Rebbe becomes his friend.
The people at Anshei Lubavitch, then, are certainly the Rebbe’s friends.

What Anshei Lubavitch does, it does with love, and it is felt by every member of the community. They feel cared for, noticed, respected and cherished. You can easily imagine what that does for a struggling child, an overwhelmed mother, or a hard-hit father.

It’s priceless. And in these stories I won’t tell you, it’s downright lifesaving.

And don’t get me wrong – this is a spirited, boisterous community. If I made it sound like it’s all Tzorus all the time, G-d forbid, it is not so. Those are the stories I cannot tell about. But I can certainly tell you all the about the warm Shabbosim, the awesome Shabbatons, the joy-filled celebrations of one another’s Simches, the unforgettable Yomim Tovim, the packed Shiurim, the unbelievable Shul trips, and the general atmosphere of good cheer that permeates the whole place. It has an electric vibe, generating happiness and positivity throughout the community and beyond, throughout the entire Crown Heights.

Wouldn’t it make your day to support a community as supportive as this one? Then, please participate in their raffle. The raffle benefits their women and children programs, and they could sure use your help.

Thank you, thank you, and may all your stories be happy ones, with joyful twists and turns, and gezunteh, freilicheh, happy endings.

A Grateful Member of Anshei Lubavitch

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Auction drawing on Tuesday night, tickets can be purchased until Tuesday afternoon, June 13.