The Haggadah To The Rescue
Rabbi Yechezkel Munk once owned a rare Haggadah shel Pesach that had been passed down through generations of his family. Printed in the late 1800s, it had originally belonged to his great-uncle and was treasured as a family heirloom.
One day, while a collector of sefarim was visiting the Munk home, Rabbi Munk showed him the antique Haggadah. After examining it carefully, the collector remarked that it might be quite valuable and encouraged him to have it professionally appraised.
The appraisal came back with a startling figure: $42,000.
This was in the 1980s, when that amount represented a tremendous fortune, the equivalent of roughly $150,000 to $160,000 today.
Rabbi Munk immediately began thinking of the greatest zechus he could perform l'ilui nishmas his great-uncle. His first thought was to commission a Sefer Torah. Before making such a significant decision, however, he sought the guidance of the Steipler Gaon, Rav Yaakov Yisrael Kanievsky z"l (1899–1985).
Those were years when many yeshivos were struggling to survive financially. The Steipler advised him not to commission a Sefer Torah but that the money would accomplish far more if it were used to support struggling institutions of Torah. Rabbi Munk accepted the Steipler's guidance without hesitation.
He divided the proceeds into four equal checks of $10,500 each and sent them to four different yeshivos.
One of those checks was mailed to an old friend who had made aliyah several years earlier. That friend, Reb Shaul Dulenger, had founded Kiryat Chinuch L'Banim, an institution in Ashdod dedicated to helping struggling teenagers. Several weeks later, Rabbi Munk received an emotional phone call. His friend was crying. “What happened?" Rabbi Munk asked.
Reb Shaul composed himself and began to explain. “This very morning,” he said, “I gathered all my rebbeim together and informed them that we would have to close the yeshivah. We simply could not continue. I had exhausted every possible avenue. There was no money left to pay salaries or cover our expenses.
"After the meeting, I left with a broken heart. On my way home, I decided to make one last attempt. I stopped at the bank to see whether they would increase my line of credit once again, but they refused. I walked out, knowing there was nothing left to do.
“On the way home, I stopped at the post office to collect my mail.” He paused. "Your envelope was waiting for me. That check,” Reb Shaul said through tears, “saved the yeshivah. It allowed us to continue operating."
Today, nearly fifty years later, Kiryat Chinuch L'Banim continues to flourish, having guided thousands of talmidim toward productive Torah lives.
Years later, Rabbi Munk's son, Chaim Munk, experienced an extraordinary epilogue to the story. While attending a wedding in Baltimore, an Israeli Jew approached him and asked whether he might be able to drive him back to New Jersey. During the drive, the man mentioned that he was from Ashdod.
Chaim responded, “I know a Rav there,” and began recounting the remarkable story of the antique Haggadah and the donation that had kept the institution alive.
Before he could finish, the passenger interrupted him. "I was there," he said quietly. “I was one of the rebbeim in that yeshivah. I was sitting in that very meeting when Reb Shaul told us that the school had reached the end of the road and would have to close.” He paused, overcome by the memory. “And then your father's check arrived.”
A treasured Haggadah had been preserved by one family for generations. It could easily have remained nothing more than a valuable collector's item. Instead, following the Steipler's guidance, it became the catalyst that saved a Torah institution, one whose influence continues to be felt by thousands of Jewish lives to this very day.
