In order to be accepted in Yeshivas Chachmei Lublin, one had to pass a test on 200 blatt Gemara. This was no easy task — for mid-teen bachurim to know 200 blatt Gemara, with Rashi and Tosafos thoroughly.
Young Shmuel, though, was determined. He wanted to attend that yeshiva at whatever price it cost. His family tried persuading him that Yeshivas Chachmei Lublin wasn’t for him, but nothing stood before him. He was determined.
At the yeshiva’s entrance exam, they told him that he didn’t know the material needed to pass. Not only did he not know 200 blatt, but even a simple reading of the Gemara was challenging for him. When they asked him why he was testing if he wasn’t up to par, he told them that he wanted to join the yeshiva and learn there so that one day he’d be able to be tested on that amount. Still, he was rejected.
When he got to the train station to go home, he pulled onto the platform as the train was pulling out. When he approached the ticket counter, he was told that the coming train would only leave in three hours’ time. “You can find yourself a comfortable bench in the meantime,” he was told.
Instead, Shmuel returned to the yeshiva to learn until the scheduled time. Sitting in the yeshiva, Reb Meir Shapiro, the Rosh Yeshiva of Yeshivas Chachmei Lublin, noticed him and his hasmada, saying that if he was returning to learn for such a short duration of time, then he was accepted to the yeshiva. Reb Meir would talk the hanhalah into reconsidering their decision, but he can be sure about getting accepted.
There was just one problem: How was he going to keep up? He would be worlds apart from the other bachurim. To help him, the mashgiach, Reb Shimon of Zelichov, known by many as Reb Shimme’le, saw to it that bachurim would learn with Shmuel throughout the day. That way, over time, he’d be brought up to par with the rest of the yeshiva. He had one-hour chavrusos throughout the day. Still, after several months of diligent learning, the hanhalah once again reviewed Shmuel’s situation and concluded that remaining in yeshiva was unfruitful for Shmuel and that, for his sake, he should transfer yeshivos.
While he was stepping down the concrete steps to leave, he heard a voice coming from behind him. It was the mashgiach.
“Where are you going?” asked Reb Shimme’le. Shmuel responded that the hanhalah had decided he should leave. This stirred the mashgiach, who went right back into the yeshiva and called together all the members of the hanhalah. Reb Shimme’le asserted that Shmuel needed to remain in the yeshiva, and that there were no two ways about it. The hanhalah members began trying to reason with him, explaining why they felt another yeshiva would be more beneficial for him, but Reb Shimme’le rebutted their claims.
“I accept full responsibility on this masmid,” he stated. “I’ll see to it that he gets even better care moving forward.”
Hearing the mashgiach’s adamance melted all their hearts to let Shmuel remain. Reb Shimme’le set out on his mission to get Shmuel better chavrusos and to oversee his shteiging up-close.
All this continued until one year, Parshas Zachor. In the yeshiva’s dining room, they displayed a large poster listing the names of all the yeshiva boys. Next to the name was a “title” that (they felt!) was what the bachur was destined to become. Many boys were given titles as rabbis of cities in Poland, while others got positions as roshei yeshiva. The best boy was “identified” as “Rav of Lodz,” after the gaon, Rav Eliyahu Chaim Meisel. (At the young age of 19, Reb Eliyahu Chaim had been appointed as the Rav of Lodz. When he had been nifter, no one had been able to fill his shoes. His position had been divided into seven parts, each part given to another Rav. This was the “position” given to the best bachur in the yeshiva.)
Shmuel scanned the sheet, only to find his name at the very bottom. The last line read: “Shmuel Ha’Levi — an erlicher shoemaker.” When Shmuel saw this, he was beside himself. “This is what I get after all the hasmada I’ve put in?” Was he putting in days and nights of hasmadah, only to become a shoemaker? Getting that position wasn’t very encouraging. He ran to his room to release his bottled-up tears.
After some time, he left his room, but he still carried a ton of bricks in his heart. This continued until one day, he said to himself: “What will this self-pity benefit me? It’s not going to make me the Rav of Lodz, right? Not even into a Purim Rav? Let me return to the Gemara. Only that way will I hit some position one day.” He mustered up the courage and continued engrossing himself in his learning.
Over the next few months, whenever writing a chiddush in his notebook, he signed off his name as: “Shmuel Ha’levi — Ava”d (the rav of) Lodz.” (These notes are around till today.) Signing off those sheets that way gave him the resolution and energy to keep going. He kept going, and eventually he started to see the fruits of his labor. He started sharing his fruit with the others around him, and they all enjoyed the sweetness he offered.
Shmuel continued pushing, until the day he became the world-renowned posek, Reb Shmuel Wosner, whose brilliance enlightened all those around — far beyond Lodz. He sweetened the mouths of Klal Yisrael who eagerly drank his sagely advice.
There are several takeaways from this story. One is that he didn’t give up despite all the rejections he faced. He overpowered his family’s resolution in dismissing him from attending that yeshiva. He persisted after being rejected by the hanhala. He overcame the denunciation he faced from his friends. Despite all that – actually better said, because of all that — he succeeded and became the prestigious gaon who he became. The other takeaway is how he pumped himself when he faced those contaminations. He gave himself that positive name, and that gave him the vigor to keep going. It was worthwhile.
