The Frierdiker Rebbe (Rabbi Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn, 1880-1950) writes, once when he was on a train, he entered the cafeteria to get some hot water. As he was sitting at the table a Jew who was sitting at a nearby table saw him and for a moment he was in a state of shock. He then came over to him and asked, “Are you by any chance the son or grandson of the Rebbe Maharash of Lubavitch (Rabbi Shmuel Schneersohn)?”
“I am his grandson,” was the reply.
The person went back to his table sat in deep thought for a few moments and then called over the waiter. He paid the bill without touching anymore of his meal, and walked out the car. Early the following morning, the conductor knocked on my door and told me that a person is asking if he could come in as he would like to speak to me. I replied, presently I am occupied, however, in two hours I will be available, if that works out for him.
The person came back at the designated time, and on his face, it was noticeable that he was extremely agitated and didn’t have a restful night. Through his sobs he related to me his story.
His father was a close chossid of my grandfather, the Rebbe Maharash, and when I was fifteen, he took me to Lubavitch. In the Yechidus the Rebbe told me some points and it left an impact on me that caused me to stop hanging around my non-religious and non-Jewish friends. However, at the end of the school year, while the family was in our vacation house I rejoined them and slowly began forsaking my heritage and the ways of my chassidic upbringing.
A few years later, when I entered university, I had a major argument with my father and moved out to prove that I am no longer under their control or supervision, and broke all connections with my past. I began living a completely nonobservant lifestyle. This pained my parents greatly, but I was determined to demonstrate that I am on my own, even if they would withhold all financial support.
I then joined the young progressives of the Zionist movement, and we tried to help the Jews of Russia, by speaking to certain noblemen in stopping or at least alleviating the governments harsh decrees on the Jews of Russia.
In my mid-twenties we found out certain information that we knew would be important for your holy grandfather to know about, as it would help him in his communal work on behalf of all Jews. I with another individual were given the responsibility to inform him of this development.
From that meeting onwards I developed a relationship with him, as he trusted me to carry out on his behalf highly important and confidential matters regarding these issues of helping our brethren.
In one of our meetings, he suddenly switched topics and asked me when was the last time I put on Tefillin? To demonstrate that I can’t hide anything from me, he then related to me in precise detail what I have done noting the time and place I continued spiraling down in my observance, since our first meeting when I was fifteen years old.
He then looked at me and stated, there is a limit for how long a neshoma could wander aimlessly. Perhaps you do so for thirty or perhaps forty years, but it's going to have to find its place. His words found their mark, and although when I married, I was no longer observant in anything, I resolved to return to my roots. I secretly put on Tefillin and told my wife that I wasn’t hungry when she served a meal. But after a week, I had to tell her the truth and we kashered the kitchen.
One afternoon I was shocked when I saw my father coming to my house, which was in a different city from where he lived, which means he came by train. We have not spoken to each other in many years and I could not figure out why he is coming to speak to me. I realized that it must be something of extreme importance, and I was slightly nervous as to what that could be.
I rushed to greet him, and he told me that he had received a letter from the Rebbe, in which the Rebbe noted that regards should be given over to me. He added. I asked him couldn't you have sent that message with someone else, such as with one of your workers.
My father replied, when the Rebber gives us a mission we are honored to do it ourselves. While we were talking a chossid came over and recited the brocha of She’hechiyunu. My father asked him what is the meaning of this brocha?
He replied its expression of my sheer happiness of finally, after so many years, seeing you two together. He then informed my father that the butcher had recently told him that it's over a half year since I - your son buys all his meat from him. He then also implored my father to participate in the meal that was prepared. At that point my father agreed to accept my invitation and sat down for the meal.
But after your holy grandfather passed on, my observance once again began slipping until it ceased to exist. Last week I went with a group of friends and indulged ourselves in the pleasures of the world, and now I am returning to my house. This week is forty years since I heard those words from your grandfather, and seeing you reminded me of what your holy grandfather told me then and after seeing you [who looks identical to your holy grandfather] I decided I must return to my roots. He then borrowed my tefillin and davened.
Indeed, this time his repentance was completely sincere and he remained very observant for the remainder of his life.
Thinking over the story I asked myself, where was the father happier? Was it when his son was eating in his house or when he felt comfortable to eat in his son's house?
My conclusion was that after feeling for so many years that he cannot eat in his son's house and now seeing that the Rebbe has a special relationship with his son, one that he who is very close to the Rebbe doesn’t have, must have given the father the thrill of his life!
Similarly, when Hashem created the world, the shechina was present in this world. However, when His creations -mankind - made him uncomfortable in this world by their actions, that demonstrated that they are no longer listening to Him, which caused him to distant Himself from them.
Reprinted from the Parshat Ki Sisa 5785 email of Rabbi Avtzon’s Weekly Story.
