Once we knew we’d be making S Maurice our permanent makom hashlichus, the first priority was finding a place to serve as our Chabad house. I had very modest expectations - all I needed was a place that could fit about 15 people, so we could have a minyan. When I heard that Msr. Sousan*, a Jewish camp director, was moving to a new office, I asked if I could take over the lease on his current place.
“Sure, I guess,” he responded. “But I don’t see how you’ll manage here. It’s too small!”
“I don’t need anything grand,” I assured him. “This will help us get started.”
As soon as I had an address in hand, I began advertising our upcoming Shabbos services to everyone I knew. I was pleased with the turnout that first Friday night, and expected a similar crowd the next day. Early on Shabbos morning, we had a few men straggle in, until, a short while later, we had our minyan and could begin davening. When I turned around before Borchu, I was surprised to see that even more people had joined, and the room was beginning to get quite crowded. Soon, we were spilling out into the street!
We kept that tiny-but-cozy office space for two years. We had a committed group of about 30-40 people who never missed a single week. Despite the consistent overcrowding, I was told again and again that they preferred davening with us more than at any other shul. The davening here is happy, they explained. This is where we want to be!
Clearly, we needed a larger space. I asked nearby shopkeepers if any of them had an available space, and, eventually, one of those inquiries panned out. The shop four doors down was moving to a new location, and was happy to sublease his store to me. After some renovations, our new and expanded place was ready to use! Since the two properties were so close together, I was able to keep both running simultaneously, with minyanim in both locations.
Even so, I knew this was another temporary measure. We needed a much larger space, especially for chagim. Baruch Hashem, we eventually found a perfect location with plenty of room!
A bigger location meant a bigger budget, and, for a while, the financial worries overwhelmed me. I had to remind myself that I was a mere cog in the Rebbe’s machine, and I had to stay focused on my mission of making Yiddishkeit accessible to all.
It was a timely reminder. Shortly after moving into our new building, the local government began to interfere, citing us for absurd issues. It wasn’t unusual for the police to interrupt our minyan, searching the premises for issues I could never have foreseen.
It got so bad, I felt I couldn’t continue much longer. There were many times when I threw my hands up in the air and just cried out to the Rebbe for help.
I took the lesson of lechatchila ariber to heart - instead of solving problems with conventional methods, a chassid needs to try to overcome obstacles by jumping over them. Instead of waiting for the police to knock on the door, I went down to the station and collaborated with the municipality to preemptively solve any potential issues. Within a year, everyone was ironed out to our mutual satisfaction. We received our construction permits right in time for Rosh Hashanah!
