The custom in the Chebiner Yeshiva among the hanhalah was that at least one of the staff would attend every simchah of the students. This task was rotated among the rebbeim, for while some of the simchas were local, others were farther away from Chebin, making attendance time-consuming and strenuous.
At the engagement of one of their students, the designated rebbi in the rotation was the yeshiva’s mashgiach, R’ Binyamin Rimer. This engagement party was taking place in the south of Eretz Yisroel, a four-hour trip each way, meaning an all-nighter on his end. For what? For a vort.
R’ Binyamin pleaded with his father, R’ Mordechai, the Rosh Yeshiva, to make an exception and waive the rule, since this would destruct the next day’s learning and the learning of all his students, but his father wasn’t swayed. “This is the yeshiva’s rule, and it must be followed through.”
Without questioning, R’ Binyamin headed out on the long journey. When he eventually got to the hall, he saw that it was crowded with participates, guests going in and out every second. Other than the chosson himself, no one recognized him, causing him to think that his trip was a waste of time.
Once he made his way in, the chosson noticed him and brought him to the head table, serving him majestically. After a short while, the mashgiach was asked to say a several words in honor of the simchah.
Using his unique ability of speaking, R’ Binyamin delivered a powerful speech. As many prominent speakers close their speech, R’ Binyamin too, closed by praising the chosson, extoling him, how cherished he is in the yeshiva, how all his friends adore him, and how he succeeds in his learning. With that, he concluded his speech.
Three years later, R’ Binyamin was walking down the street and saw that same chosson, now a yungerman, walking toward him with sefarim in his hands. He had the appearance now of a chashuva man, no longer a yeshiva bachur but an avreich who took his learning seriously. This shocked R’ Binyamin, as from what he remembered of him, he’d expected this chosson to have gone to work the day after sheva brachos. As a bachur, he hadn’t utilized his time properly, showed zero interest in learning, and thus he’d figured that he probably wouldn’t continue learning after marriage.
When the avreich approached, they greeted each other amicably, and R’ Binyamin asked him where he was and what he was doing.
“I’m a maggid shiur in a cheider, and I’m really thriving from my learning and teaching.”
The mashgiach questioned him as to how he pulled that off. “Was that the original plan when you got engaged?”
“No,” he responded. “When I was in shidduchim, I anticipated that I would be getting a job after I get married.”
“So, what changed?” asked the mashgiach.
“Do you recall how you attended my vort?” asked the yungerman.
“Sure I do,” responded the mashgiach. “It was a vort that I’m not going to forget so fast. The eight-hour trip kept me up the entire night.”
“Well, those heartwarming words you delivered by the vort greatly impacted me. After hearing those words, my temimos’dike father-in-law was in awe over me — his new son-in-law. After the vort, he approached his wife, my mother-in-law, and started telling her how they struck lucky by getting such a wonderful son-in-law. They had such admiration for me that I simply had to live up to my name.
“After the chasuna, I started to take to it. I started learning properly and grew tremendously. I took pride in my ‘name,’ empowering me to live up to it.
“That was the changing point of my life. Had you not delivered that speech, showering me with all that honor, I don’t know where I would be today. Thanks to your warm words and positive reinforcement, I stand here with pride as a maggid shiur.”
