Rabbi Mordechai Dov Twersky zt"l
Grand Rabbi of Horensteipel
Author: Haamek Shaaleh
22 Ellul 5663
Mordechai Dov was orphaned at an early age, and was brought up by his maternal grandfather Rabbi Yaakov Yisrael of Cherkasse. Once, a Chassid of his Zeide came to him to beg him to pray for his salvation. He had not earned enough to meet the payments on the inn which he was renting from the local poritz, and he threatened to take action against him. He had already removed the glass from the windows of his house, and the cold and snow were penetrating inside. He also threatened him with expulsion and imprisonment if his debts were not promptly resolved. He could not think of any source of help, and came to ask the Rebbe to pray for his salvation so that he and his family would not languish in prison.
To his horror, he found that the Rebbe was out of town. He therefore went to the Rebbetzin, who was known for her wisdom and righteousness, to pour out his heart and tell her of his bitter plight. She told him, "Go to the Beis Hamedrash speak to my grandson, Mordechai Dov. He should be able to help you."
"But your grandson is only a child of ten," the man said. "I need the Rebbe. Our lives are in jeopardy."
"The Rebbe is not available now," the Rebbetzin repeated. Go talk to my grandson."
The man found Mordechai Dov in the Beis Hamedrash, engrossed in his studies, and against his better judgment, unburdened himself to the young boy. The young boy listened sympathetically to the man's tearful tale of woe, sighed deeply, and said, "If only Zeide were here, I am certain that he could help you. But there is nothing I can do for you."
In desperation, the man cried out, "Look, your grandmother sent me to you. Now if you truly cannot help me, then I hold no grudge against you. But if you have the capacity to help me and refrain from doing so, then I shall never forgive you for what will befall my family, not in this world, nor in the Eternal World to Come." He then burst into bitter tears.
The young boy was shaken. Before him stood an unfortunate Jew, whose whole life was in his hands. He suddenly felt the intensity of this man's pain and troubles. "Don't cry," he said in a soft, reassuring voice. "Let's light a lamp and go to the mikva." It was after midnight.
The man accompanied the young boy to the mikva and stood by, holding the lamp, as young Mordechai Dov immersed himself beneath the surface of the water. After a few moments, the man became concerned that the child was not coming out of the water. As the moments passed, far beyond what seemed to be the human endurance for surviving without air, the man became panic stricken. He began to worry that because of him, something terrible had happened to the Rebbe's grandson. He tried to go down to the mikva to extricate the child, but his limbs seemed to be paralyzed, as if someone was holding him back.
He soon forgot his troubles, about his debts, and about his imminent eviction or imprisonment. He was totally occupied with the child, whose head remained immersed beneath the water. "Hashem," he began to pray, "just let me see that young child emerge from the mikva alive."
After what seemed to be many eternities, the young boy emerged from the water. "Go home," he said. "You have nothing to worry about." Relieved, the man returned home, arriving in the morning.
Several weeks later, the Chassid returned to the Cherkasse Rebbe and told him that upon his return home, the poritz had sent for him and apologized for having been so harsh with him.
That previous night, the poritz related, he developed a choking sensation and was unable to breathe. In his panic he began to reflect that perhaps he was being punished by G-d for being so ruthless with his tenants. He then resolved that he would be more lenient with them, and soon thereafter his breathing returned to normal. He then had the window glass restored to the Chassid's house, and said, "I will not only forgive you your arrears, but I will also arrange more liberal terms for your future payments."
Hearing this story, the Cherkasse shook his head and said, "This is too tender an age for my grandson to place his life in jeopardy." But the pattern that was initiated at the age of ten persisted for the next 53 years. The needs of another fellow Jew always took priority.
As Rebbe, Rabbi Mordechai Dov became sick with a violent cough. He went to consult doctors in the city of Kiev, and was told that it would be necessary to sear one spot on his body with a burning hot lance. The doctors told him in advance that the treatment was extremely painful, so painful, in fact, that the patient had to be tied to a chair in order not to move during the process.
"There will be no need to tie me," the Rebbe answered quietly. "I will not move."
The doctor began the treatment and the Rebbe, true to his word, did not move a muscle. He didn't even emit a groan as his skin was scorched with a searing hot metal stick. Amazed at this incredible willpower, the doctor remarked to the Rebbe's son, who was standing nearby, that just the day before he had performed the identical treatment on a Russian Cossack. The moment the hot lance had touched the Cossack's skin, he had jumped out of his seat, ripping open the restraint that bound him, and escaped jumped out the window.
The Rebbe, who overheard, surprised them all with his response, "Believe me, when a Jew comes to me and pours out the troubles that weigh down his heart, when he so desperately needs help and there is no way to help him, that pain burns more fiercely within me than even a burning hot lance."
