Supreme Honor
“Honor your father and mother.” Nobody did it better than the Rebbe, whose attentiveness to his parents lay deep in his heart. The Avner Institute presents sentimental anecdotes from those in Crown Heights who witnessed the Rebbe’s filial care — his daily walks to Rebbetzin Chana on 1414 President Street (now a yeshiva dormitory) rain or shine, his warm repartee to those he encountered, and the reverence for Rabbi Levi Yitzhak’s loving memory.
In Loving member of loving memory of Hadassah Lebovic A”h
“Such Sweetness”
Mrs. Sarah Junik relates:
For a while the Rebbe’s mother, Rebbetzin Chana, lived in the apartment of the Rebbe and Rebbetzin Chaya Mushka. Typical of many prewar buildings, the apartment consisted of a bedroom, kitchen, living room, and study. In other words, fine for a couple – while two is company, three is a crowd.
The Rebbe was not deterred. In her honor, he moved his study, the seat of his work, to the living room and converted that study to a private bedroom for his mother.
Later on, describing to Rabbi Tzvi Yair Steinmetz her length of stay with the couple, the Rebbetzin remarked that on Shabbos afternoon, after the meal, the Rebbe would pace back and forth in the living room and recite tehillim, psalms.
“I never heard tehillim said with such sweetness,” she sighed.
“The Greatest of Tenderness”
Rabbi Yisroel Gordon relates:
When his mother lived on President Street, the Rebbe visited her daily, usually between six and seven in the evening.
One evening in 1955, I went to visit Rebbetzin Chana with my family. As we were sitting there, I heard the Rebbe arrive.
Instinctively we got up to leave, but the Rebbetzin motioned with her hands, “Stay, stay.” Seeing our hesitation, she continued, “If you feel too uncomfortable in my son’s presence, you could wait in a side room.”
Which we did – right in time before the Rebbe walked in. Seated in the side room, I was able to hear some of the conversation between the Rebbe and his mother.
What I heard moved me deeply.
“How are you? How do you feel?” the Rebbe greeted her. Then he asked, “Did the housekeeper come this morning?
I peeked in. The Rebbe sat with his mother and poured her a cup of tea. Then he discussed subjects of interest to her, with the greatest of tenderness.
The atmosphere remained pleasant and relaxed, despite the Rebbe’s time being so precious. The Rebbetzin, seemingly aware of her son’s hectic schedule, eventually escorted him to the door.
“Rain is a Blessing”
Mrs. Jacobs, the Rebbetzin’s housekeeper, relates:
The Rebbe visited his mother every day. Even though his mother, aware how busy her son was to the world, refrained from bothering him, the Rebbe, on his own initiative, looked for ways to help her.
One day, the Rebbetzin, feeling weak, did not do her normal grocery shopping. Consequently, she ran out of milk. The Rebbe, noticing its absence, offered to go out and buy some.
I quickly approached him. “Perhaps the Rebbe’s mother would be happier if he stayed with her. I’ll go, instead.” The Rebbe agreed.
Since it was raining, I put on a coat and took an umbrella. As I stood near the door, the Rebbe asked, “Why an umbrella?”
“Because of the rain,” I answered, simply.
The Rebbe laughed. “Rain is a blessing and you want to be protected from it?”
“A Path in the Snow”
Rabbi Shlomo Cunin relates:
When I was a student at 770, the Rebbe visited his mother every day, in all kinds of weather.
I remember one winter day, which was unusually severe for New York — a near blizzard. The snow wouldn’t stop falling. Soon it blanketed the whole pavement. Nevertheless, even in the deepest snow the Rebbe insisted on going to his mother.
Intending to make the Rebbe’s walk as comfortable as possible, I bought a snow blower to clear a path through the snow from 770 to the Rebbetzin’s house. A half hour before the Rebbe’s estimated time of departure, I turned on the motor and began clearing off the street.
I rolled down Kingston Avenue in the machine, happy as could be. But when I returned to the beginning of the street, I saw that the snow that had continually fallen in the meantime had undone my work.
“Well,” I thought, “let me at least clean the entrance to 770.”
As I cleared off the steps, the door to 770 swung open and the Rebbe emerged.
There was nowhere for me to run. I threw myself onto the snow and lay there on the side of the steps from where I peeked out at the Rebbe.
As the Rebbe passed by, he smiled broadly, bent slightly in my direction, and waved his hand encouragingly.
“Worthwhile Idea”
Rabbi Michoel Raskin, owner of the fruit and vegetable store on Kingston – opposite 1414 President — related:
Every day, I waited for the Rebbe to walk by on his way to visit his mother and I would look at him.
One time, as he passed by my store, the Rebbe stopped.
“Such nice produce,” he said. “Wouldn’t it be a good idea if you placed some of your produce outside to attract customers?”
I did what he said – and, Baruch Hashem, I was successful. Sometimes, some of the local Gentile kids tried to help themselves to the merchandise, but the idea was definitely worthwhile.
“Jewish Joy”
When it came to naming a baby, the Rebbe generally did not get involved. However, in 5708, the Rebbe asked Rabbi Moshe Hecht to name his daughter “Rochel,” the name of Rebbetzin Chana’s mother, in order to give her nachas, Jewish joy.
The Rebbe then sent Rabbi Hecht a letter:
I thank you for accepting my suggestion. I bless you that you raise her to Torah, chuppah [marriage], and good deeds, with material and spiritual plenty.
There was another instance when the Rebbetzin was sublimely honored with a child’s name.
One day someone approached the Rebbe with the news: “My wife just gave birth to a boy.”
“Mazel tov!” the Rebbe replied. “May you and your wife be blessed.”
“Amen,” answered the man. “I would appreciate the Rebbe’s advice and consent. I want to name my new son after the Rebbe’s father. However, I can only use the first name, Levi, since a close relative has the name Yitzchak.”
The Rebbe answered, “You should speak to my mother.”
When the man spoke to Rebbetzin Chana, she beamed with a smile. “Yes! Of course! You may name him Levi Yitzchak. My husband, peace be with him, was a good Jew!”
“Fully Upright”
Rebbetzin Chana was not the only person to bestow supreme honor on her husband, of blessed memory. Her wifely conduct left an indelible mark on her son.
Once, when Rabbi Weitzman (a Rav in Brownsville, New York) brought the Rebbe a postcard with Rabbi Levi Yitzchak’s handwriting, the Rebbe rose to stand fully upright.
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