come spiritually influenced from him. Therefore, even though the salvation and reprieve would surely come to Chinuch Atzmai from a different source, then the other entities would have the potential to wield an influence on Chinuch Atzmai with their money. In that case, then, “at u’veis avich” — the girls of Bais Yaakov and the yeshivah bachurim — could chalilah be affected.
The Rebbe continued, demanding from the participants that they donate generously, and thus express their appreciation and recognition of the vital nature of this entity. A surprising revelation came at the end of his passionate speech:
“I personally pledge to donate 25,000 liras,” the Rebbe declared. “Shmuel Daskal will also give a similar amount, even though I have not yet asked him!” The Rebbe turned to Reb Shmuel and, in front of everyone, asked him, “Is that right, Shmuel?”
Reb Shmuel nodded.
When they heard this, all the other gvirim were stunned into a sheepish silence. When they heard the huge sum the Rebbe had pledged, their hearts opened, and that’s how Chinuch Atzmai was saved from collapse.
After the gathering, the Rebbe turned to the organizers and said,
The Imrei Chaim
“Although I do not have this sum available right now, I will give you 5,000 liras tomorrow, and the rest in another month.”
The Rebbe Didn’t Have a Shadow of a Doubt
In his sefer Yamim Mikedem, the gabbai, Reb Yitzchak Dovid Razmovitz, related the following incident to describe the Imrei Chaim’s practices with relation to tzedakah:
When Kiryat Vizhnitz was nearing completion, I went to the Rebbe and told him that there’s a donor who’s willing to pay the sum needed to complete the neighborhood, if the Rebbe would stipulate the exact sum.
The Rebbe replied with a smile on his face, “You know that we maintain the custom of our holy ancestors not to specify an exact sum. It’s possible that this donor knows about this practice, and our inevitable efforts to evade the subject, and therefore he’s conditioning his donation on us stating a precise amount.”
I continued to plead with the Rebbe to deviate from his custom in order to ease the tremendous financial burden he was carrying. The Rebbe’s holy face grew somber and he said, “If I ask from him for the exact amount and he doesn’t give it, then I’m afraid that his entire fortune will be at stake. It’s better that I shouldn’t ask for anything.”
Beyond that, he didn’t say another word on the subject.
In contrast, at the Chinuch Atzmai gathering, the Rebbe deviated from his custom and specified the colossal sum of 25,000 liras. There was no doubt in his mind that he was not putting Reb Shmuel’s money at risk.
The Middah of Good Is Greater
At the end of the gathering, the Rebbe turned to the askanim of Chinuch Atzmai and said to them, “You don’t need to remind Reb Shmuel to fulfill his pledge. I’ll ask him.”
We found this to be interesting — why was the Rebbe afraid that they would ask for the money? Why would he take upon himself the role of the gabbai tzedakah?
Indeed, there were surely deeper intentions here. Chazal taught us that the reward of a mitzvah is manifold the punishment of a sin. Hence, if the Rebbe was afraid to stipulate a sum in his request for tzedakah so as not to put the fortune of a Jew in peril, how much more so is it that when he asks for a specific sum, and the chassid fulfills the request, there is no doubt that he is blessed many times over!
That was the Rebbe’s intention — to bestow upon Reb Shmuel brachah and success in a direct way, without the intervention of askanim to remind him of the pledge. The Rebbe wanted Reb Shmuel to give because the Rebbe had asked, and thereby, Reb Shmuel would be blessed with an abundance of success.
The Box Was Found
Rabbi Moses related:
One day, Reb Shmuel gave the Rebbe a very beautiful snuffbox made of pure gold.
The box was very intricate and had cost a fortune. On one side, there was an imprint of the beis medrash in Vizhnitza, Romania, and on the other side was an image of the beis medrash in Kiryat Vizhnitz, Bnei Brak. It also had Reb Shmuel’s name etched into it, so that he should always be remembered by the Rebbe.
Every so often, the Rebbe would go to the seashore in Tel Aviv for a bit of rest. While there, he would become immersed in his thoughts.
Once, when the Rebbe was at the shore, the snuffbox got lost. It apparently fell out of his pocket, sank into the sand, and disappeared. All efforts to find it proved futile.
The Rebbe’s distress was immense. He felt terrible that he’d lost the precious box that was so important to Reb Shmuel. Reb Shmuel could not stand to see the Rebbe’s distress. If Chazal said that one is permitted to alter the truth in order to maintain peace, then certainly stretching the truth was permitted to prevent the Rebbe from feeling anguish.
So Reb Shmuel went to the goldsmith who had made the original snuffbox and instructed, “Please make me an identical snuffbox, as fast as you can. I’ll pay whatever price you ask!” A day later, the snuffbox “was found.” Reb Shmuel asked me to find a way to inform the Rebbe of the news.
I didn’t want to tell the Rebbe an untruth, so I said, “Baruch Hashem, the Rebbe has the snuffbox,” and I gave it to him. The Rebbe looked at it with a sagacious smile that said it all...
At the Tziyun of the Composer of Kah Ribbon
Rabbi Moses related:
The top of the lighthouse that looks out over the Ashdod Port offers a breathtakingly beautiful view, and the sky seems so close. The Rebbe sat there, engrossed in his holy thoughts, as he was wont to do from time to time. Reb Shmuel and I sat beside him.
Suddenly, the Rebbe turned to us and said, “This week, a Yid who serves in the army in the Gaza Strip came to me. He told me that the tziyun of the tzaddik Rav Yisrael Najara, composer of the zemer Kah Ribbon Olam, is located in the Gaza Strip.”
Reb Shmuel didn’t need more explicit directives. “I can get from here to Gaza in an hour,” he told the Rebbe. “When we get there, we’ll find the way to the tzaddik’s kever.”
I was horrified. “We have to have a military escort for such a trip!” I said.
Reb Shmuel looked at me with surprise and inquired, “If the Rebbe wants to go, who needs a military escort?” We set out.
At the entrance to the Gaza Strip, we stopped at the checkpoint. The soldier manning the checkpoint introduced himself as Friedman. After speaking for a few minutes, it emerged that he was a descendant of the Ruzhiner Rebbe. When the officer heard that the Vizhnitzer Rebbe was in the car, he allowed us to enter, and even offered to escort us and show us where the tziyun is.
The cemetery is located in an Arab refugee camp. Since access to the gravesite is very difficult, the car advanced slowly down the hill. Many Arabs gathered around and walked alongside the car. The Rebbe was not afraid; he was very emotional. When we reached the site, he emerged from the car, appearing like a Heavenly angel. He stood and began to tearfully sing the tune of “Kah Ribbon Olam.” It was a most moving scene to see the Rebbe standing at the tziyun of the composer of the zemer and singing it in the poignant Vizhnitz tune.
The trip was able to take place in the merit of Reb Shmuel’s emunah peshutah that we would not need an escort. Reb Shmuel knew: if the Rebbe was present, the Creator commands His angels to protect them on the way.
At the Tishen
Reb Yitzchak Ungar, the Vizhnitzer musical composer, related:
For many years, I stood beside Reb Shmuel at the Rebbe’s tishen, behind the Imrei Chaim’s chair.
Reb Shmuel was a tremendous gvir, but never sought to be noticeable or to stand in a place where he would attract people’s attention. He stood behind the Rebbe with remarkable humility and submission. Anyone who didn’t know him would not believe that this was Reb Shmuel Daskal, the wealthy diamond dealer.
Each time he received shirayim from the Rebbe, he would blush sheepishly, as if he felt that he didn’t deserve it. He would proffer his hand with utter submission. It appeared that he didn’t understand why the Rebbe had chosen him. Despite the huge sums that he gave the court, he didn’t seem to think he deserved anything in return.
Reb Shmuel savored every word that emerged from the Rebbe’s holy mouth. He used to stand there listening, with indescribable awe and respect. If someone would speak in the middle of the tish, or would conduct themselves in a disrespectful way, Reb Shmuel would gently chastise them. He did not understand how one could possibly stand near the Rebbe and not feel fear, awe, and trepidation.
Standing next to Reb Shmuel was watching a living mussar sefer; one could learn a considerable amount about emunas chachamim just from observing him. It was not for naught that the Rebbe loved him so much!
Remarkable Bond
Reb Leib Ber Shimonowitz, one of the singers at the tishen, related:
During a tish, I noticed that there was a direct and unique connection between the Rebbe and Reb Shmuel. Often, the Rebbe whispered a word or two to Reb Shmuel during the tish. When he gave him shirayim, the Rebbe also whispered something in Reb Shmuel’s ear.
Furthermore, the Rebbe would honor Reb Shmuel at every tish with the kos shel brachah from Birchas Hamazon.
Vacation in Tzfas
The gabbai Reb Shmuel Stern related:
When Reb Shmuel spent the summer months in Tzfas, he would rent an apartment in the Old City. At the same time, the Rebbe was in Har Canaan, a neighborhood in Tzfas. Although Reb Shmuel’s sons were four and six years old at the time, they continued participating in the Rebbe’s tish.
Each Shabbos, Reb Shmuel walked with his children for half an hour on the darkened road to Har Canaan and then back. The next afternoon, they walked back for shalosh seudos.
“Give My Aliyah to Reb Shmuel”
One Yom Kippur, the Rebbe davened with a minyan in his house because he was very weak. He was so weak that he could not even have an aliyah.
“Give my aliyah to Shmuel Daskal,” the Rebbe instructed.
It was truly remarkable. There were very prominent Yidden davening at that minyan, the cream of the crop of Vizhnitzer chassidus, as well as rabbanim and rebbes, but the Rebbe specifically chose him.
Carried in His Heart
Reb Shmuel once told his children:
When I came to the Rebbe in Teveria, the gabbai, Reb Yitzchak Dovid Razmovitz, came over and asked me with surprise, “Shmuel, what happened to you yesterday at eight in the morning?”
I was very taken aback; I hadn’t told anyone what had happened to me at that time.
“Why do you ask?” I inquired.
“At eight o’clock, while the Rebbe was putting on tefillin, he turned to me and asked me to be mazkir, ‘Shmuel Yehuda ben...,’ and I filled in for him ‘Faiga.’ It was an interesting incident, so I’m wondering what happened.”
I explained that at that very moment, I’d been driving in the car on the road around the Kinneret. I was overcome with exhaustion, and without realizing it, my head slumped over the wheel.
Suddenly, I awoke, and at the last moment, I grabbed the wheel and guided the car back onto the road. I had been mere inches from death!
The bond with the Rebbe was spiritual, and it was not bound by the limitations of proximity.
Shmuel Yehuda Ben Faiga
Rabbi Moses related:
Each time the Rebbe asked me who was outside, and I would reply “Shmuel Daskal,” the Rebbe would reply, “Shmuel Yehuda ben Faiga.” The Rebbe liked to mention his name whenever possible.
Don’t Return the Merchandise!
Reb Shmuel told his family several times:
The Rebbe was my confidant on every subject, even huge business deals. Sometimes, his advice seemed to contradict logic, but I always heeded it unquestioningly — and that was the secret of my success.
The Imrei Chaim
He shared the following story, first providing some background information:
Diamond dealers who ask the bank for a loan with which to buy diamonds need to provide twenty-five percent of the capital, and the bank holds on to the diamonds as a collateral. When the borrower wants to show the merchandise to a buyer, he has to take the diamonds out of the bank for a few hours, but diamonds are not allowed to be taken out of the Bourse, where the bank is located.
The bank does not give a loan equivalent to the entire value of merchandise for a few reasons. First, if the price of the diamonds goes down, the bank has a cushion for its money of at least a twenty-five percent decline. Therefore, if it sees that the value of the diamonds is declining, and is worried that their worth will dip below the twenty-five percent, the bank pressures the borrower to return the loan immediately — and if not, the bank impounds all the merchandise and sells it on the market. Second, the bank wants to see that the dealer believes in the deal. When a person invests his own money as well, that is proof that he has thoroughly checked into whether the deal is worth his while.
That’s what the bank did for all diamond deals over the years.
During the 1960s and 1970s, the State of Israel encouraged diamond dealers to export diamonds abroad in order to bring foreign currency into the country, and it provided big incentives for diamond dealers to do so. The biggest incentive was one hundred percent financing of the merchandise being exported.
Of course, I preferred to get full financing from the bank for the merchandise, so I exported the diamonds to Japan, where I had an office. I kept the merchandise at the bank branch in Japan, with the goal of selling it, and the bank funded the entire cost of the merchandise. Had I returned the merchandise to Israel, I would’ve had to submit to the bank twenty-five percent of my own capital for the loan.
In 1966, suddenly, the political situation in Japan flared up, and the bank in Israel was afraid of a civilian uprising — in which case, rioters might loot the bank branch. The bank demanded that I take my merchandise back to Israel, and I would have to provide my own capital as a guarantee of the rest of the loan to the bank.
It was a searing loss. I tried to plead with the bank to wait — maybe war would not break out after all. But it was firm and demanded that I return the merchandise immediately.
Distraught, I went to the Rebbe and explained the problem. I told the Rebbe that I had no choice but to bring the merchandise back and to lose a lot of money. I explained that all my pleading was for naught and the bank refused to budge.
The Rebbe fell into deep thought. He sat for a while with his eyes closed. Finally, he sat up and said to me, “Don’t bring the merchandise back to Israel!”
I was dumbfounded. “But the bank is pressuring me,” I said in confusion.
“The bank will calm down,” the Rebbe replied.
I returned home, fully confident that with Hashem’s help and the Rebbe’s brachah, everything would be okay.
The next day, the phone rang — it was the bank manager. He asked me to come for an urgent meeting. I was sure he wanted to insist that I bring back the merchandise. I hoped for the best and reassured myself that it would work out well.
When I arrived, a surprise awaited me. The manager invited me to a meeting with a dealer from Japan, and the manager praised me effusively for my global business dealings and my success, especially the progress of my exports to Japan.
The whole subject of returning the merchandise was swept off the table. It wasn’t even mentioned! Not that day, nor any day thereafter...
Confident in the Rebbe’s Brachah
Reb Yisrael Deblinger of Kiryat Vizhnitz related:
In 5720/1960, Reb Shmuel asked me to partner with him in a cooperative to produce and sell diamonds. I was afraid that it would not succeed and declined, explaining that I was afraid of the potential losses.
“Don’t be afraid,” Reb Shmuel said. “I have a brachah from the Rebbe!”
Indeed, the cooperative opened. At first, there were difficulties, but in time, just as the Rebbe had said, we saw great success.
Wait
Reb Shmuel related:
In 5721/1961, I had a very large inventory of diamonds. I was asking for high prices and couldn’t find a buyer. I decided to lower the prices, but first, I went to the Rebbe to hear his opinion.
“Wait,” the Rebbe said. Of course, I didn’t ask why.
One fine day, with no advance notice, the value of the dollar shot up drastically. The value of the merchandise sold in dollars spiked, and thus, my fortune increased by forty percent.
The Rebbe’s Passing
Reb Shmuel told his children:
Thursday, 8 Nissan 5732/1972. The Imrei Chaim was in the Assuta Hospital and was very ill. I took his son, the Yeshuos Moshe, to visit him.
When he finished the visit and came into the car, he asked me, “Did you see my holy father?”
When I replied that I had, he instructed me, “Go back and see him again!”
I returned to see the Imrei Chaim. It was the last time I saw him fully conscious.
That evening, on 9 Nissan, I was summoned to participate in a minyan of people who were near the Rebbe in his final hours. I was present when his soul departed.
I arrived home and called my friends, Vizhnitzer chassidim around the world, to inform them of the Rebbe’s passing. My pain knew no bounds and I sobbed copiously. I cried more than I had cried when my own parents, whom I loved so much, passed away.
I Am Not Worthy!
Reb Ephraim Lerner of Kiryat Vizhnitz related:
The levayah departed and Reb Shmuel stood on the side, not touching the mittah.
“Why don’t you go and carry the mittah?” I asked Reb Shmuel.
“I am not worthy,” he replied, teary-eyed.
Those carrying the mittah advanced, and as they noticed him, made place for him to come and help carry it. Reb Shmuel turned to me and said, “Apparently the Rebbe wanted me to carry the mittah.” He then helped carry it until the burial.
An Eternal Bond
With the passing of the Imrei Chaim of Vizhnitz, a glorious chapter in Reb Shmuel’s life came to an end, a chapter that had left an impression on every facet of his life — spiritual and material — and on the lives of the generations that followed him.
He was not only bound to the Rebbe during his lifetime. Even after the Rebbe’s passing, he did not sever the connection, and the Rebbe’s holy words left an imprint on him until Reb Shmuel’s final day.
Establishment of Vizhnitzer Chassidus in Eretz Yisrael
The Imrei Chaim was a pillar of fire and courage. He resurrected Vizhnitzer chassidus from the ashes after it was almost entirely wiped out during the Holocaust.
From a perspective of several decades later, when we see Vizhnitzer chassidus thriving and growing, we marvel. From where did the Rebbe have the superhuman strength, at the age of more than sixty, to reestablish the chassidus after he’d lost nearly his entire flock?
The Rebbe was the first one to establish a chassidishe kiryah, a neighborhood of its own, which became a model and an example for other communities. He was the first in Eretz Yisrael to establish a yeshivah that combined Torah and yiras Shamayim with the path of chassidus.
Back in 1951, who would have dreamed that a neighborhood with a few dozen residents would grow and flourish into a glorious chassidic court with thousands of families all over the world?
Words cannot possibly describe the tremendous zechus of the man who was at the Rebbe’s side during those years, and who gave generously of his assets to reestablish Vizhnitzer chassidus.
Kiryat Vizhnitz in its early days Building the heichal of the Yeshivah in Kiryat Vizhnitz Bnei Brak
