"If we are already discussing Avrumke the wagon driver, I recall an interesting meeting I had with him, many years later, in Eretz Yisrael. Once on Shabbos between Mincha and Ma'ariv, I walked into a shul, here in Tel Aviv, in the Kiryat Shalom section. I saw a group of elderly men sitting around the table listening to one old man telling them about his personal experiences with the Chofetz Chaim: 'Once I was driving the Chofetz Chaim to the train station, and I saw an orchard on the side of the road. One of the trees' branches, laden with apples, extended over the road. Nu, so I stepped down from the wagon and went to take some apples, when all of a sudden I heard a shout from behind me, "They're watching! They're watching!"
Needless to say I hurriedly jumped back on the wagon and drove away as quickly as I could. I could get in deep trouble for taking those apples. As I drove away I looked all around, but there was not a living soul in sight! I turned to the Chofetz Chaim and said, "Rebbe, what did you mean, they're watching? There's no one around!" "Ahh," answered the Chofetz Chaim, "of course they're watching, they're watching from Above!"'
I was understandably very curious to know who this old man was," continues Rav Kalman, "so I edged closer to the table, and I was amazed to see that it was none other than Avrumke, the Chofetz Chaim's wagon driver! He was sitting there recounting stories of his travels with the Chofetz Chaim. He continued:
'On one of his trips the Chofetz Chaim said, "Let's learn a perek mishnayos Reb Avrumke."
'Nu, so how do you think we learned? The Chofetz Chaim would recite the mishna by heart, word for word, and I would repeat after him. "You see?" the Chofetz Chaim would say after a while. "We learned a perek mishnayos!"'
Rav Kalman interjects, "He would treat these plain people with such simplicity and so naturally that they felt he was one of them. I remember, that when I would return to the tiny village where my parents lived for bein hazmanim, they would ask me, 'Nu, so how is Reb Yisroel Meir doing?' That was how close they felt to him. On the other hand, there is no denying the great admiration they had for him. All the villagers would crowd around me waiting to hear any story, or saying or hanhogah from the Chofetz Chaim. They wanted to hear more and more.
His humility and simplicity were absolutely incredible," Rav Kalman continues. "In his house there were no chairs, just some long, rough-hewn benches and a plain, long table that opened out at both sides. That was the extent of his furniture.
Now, when his son-in-law, Rav Mendel Zaks, zt'l was appointed rosh yeshiva of Radin, an unpleasant situation developed. Rav Mendel lived on the second floor of the Chofetz Chaim's house. Now that he was rosh yeshiva, bochurim wanted to come to him to talk in learning, but there was nowhere to seat them. Not everyone felt at ease sitting on the benches shoulder to shoulder with their friends; they wanted a degree of privacy when speaking to the Rosh Yeshiva. So, they ordered twelve chairs. Some were put in the kitchen, some on the ground floor where the Chofetz Chaim was, and the rest upstairs by Rav Mendel. That's what was missing in the house--chairs!
Then when the Chofetz Chaim came home and saw all the "new furniture," he was aghast. 'What is all this doing here?' he asked, whereupon his family explained to him the reason for the purchase.
The Chofetz Chaim was still incredulous. 'Twelve chairs? Twelve? One I can understand, for the head of the household. A second chair is also necessary for the lady of the house. Let's say a guest comes, so, okay, the guest also needs a chair. But twelve chairs? For what? "Hashem's Name is not whole, and His throne is not whole." The Ribono shel Olom doesn't even have one whole chair, and here there are twelve chairs?!' The Chofetz Chaim was simply unable to comprehend the purchase, and you must know that every word of his was spoken with absolute truth and sincerity, with no embellishment or exaggeration."
