I remember from my youth when I accompanied my father and teacher, zt”l, to Shacharis on Shabbos at the shul where he regularly prayed; during the Torah reading, a serious question arose about the validity of the sefer Torah. The gabba’im and the koreh were confused and unsure how to proceed—whether the sefer needed to be replaced with another from the aron.
The beis midrash was tumultuous. Several outstanding talmidei chachamim present began to debate the halachah, each proposing a different view, yet they could not reach a conclusive decision. Throughout, my father stood silently on the side, as was his custom, not intervening at all. Eventually, the gabbai asked my father’s opinion.
Immediately, my father approached the bookshelf, took out the Mishnah Berurah, opened it directly to the relevant section, and showed them explicit and clear guidance precisely on this question. Everything was resolved, and peace was restored.
What struck me more than the clarity of his halachic knowledge was the refinement of his character. Despite knowing the halachah clearly, he refrained from intervening until his opinion was sought. This behavior left an indelible impression on me.
My father always stood throughout the Torah reading until his final days, even in his old age and frailty, as ruled in the Shulchan Aruch (Orach Chaim 141:1); see there.
