Rav Yitzchok Isaac Taub Kaliver Rebbe (Adar II 7)
THE VANISHING REBBE
On the day preceding each Biblical festival, Rabbi Yitzchak-Isaac Taub of Kaliv would disappear for many hours; no one knew where he went. One year on erev Sukkot, the lay leader of the Kaliv Jewish community, Mr. Yaakov Fisch, was determined to discover the tzadik's secret. While the Rebbe was occupied, Fisch hid himself in the wagon, where he remained undiscovered until the Rebbe was well on his journey.
When Reb Yankel revealed himself, the Rebbe became visibly distressed. He exclaimed, "What can I do with you now?" He made the stowaway promise not to ask any questions, not of himself nor of anyone else.
Soon they arrived at a city which Yankel did not recognize. The Rebbe abruptly stopped the wagon, and began to walk down a narrow path that led to a mikveh. He instructed his passenger to wait while he immersed himself there.
Yankel waited in the wagon until he was overcome with curiosity and impatience. Forgetting the tzadik's warning, he hopped off the wagon and sought to question the people nearby. "Excuse me," he asked in Yiddish the first man he stopped, "but where am I?"
"Don't you know where you are?" the astonished fellow replied, thinking that he was dealing with a madman. "Where do you think you are?"
"Well, I was just in Kaliv, Hungary, a few hours ago," Yankel began.
"Now I know you're mad," said the man, "How could you possibly get from Kaliv to Tzfat in a few hours?"
"Tzfat?!" cried Yankel. "You're the one who is mad! How could I be in Tzfat, in Eretz Yisrael, if I was just in Kaliv?"
The argument intensified, and in the heat of the debate Yankel forgot to get back to the wagon before the Rebbe reappeared. To his dismay, he arrived back at the mikveh just in time to see the wagon pulling away. Yankel was beside himself. Here he was, stranded in a town of "meshuga'im" (insane people) who thought they were living in Tzfat!
However, he had no choice but to ask one of them to take him in to his home for the Sukkot holiday. Already during the first hours of the festival, seeing the different customs and hearing people speaking in the Holy Tongue and in Arabic as well as Yiddish, Yankel realized that indeed he was in Tzfat, Astonished, it dawned on him as an epiphany that the Kaliver used a Divine Holy Name for kefitzat haderech (a miraculous contraction of a journey) to come to Tsfat every erev Yom Tov in order to immerse himself in the mikveh of the holy Arizal, Rabbi Yitzchak Luria.
His amazement was quickly joined by shock as he realized that he was compelled to remain in Tzfat until the Rebbe would return the following Yom Tov. How else could he possibly get all the way back to Europe?
Meanwhile, back in Kaliv, the Fisch family was frantic about Yankel's sudden disappearance. They ran to the Rebbe for advice. The Kaliver smiled as he assured them that there was no need for concern, promising that Mr. Fisch would return just in time for the Passover Seder!
And so it was. Six months later, Yankel Fisch was delighted to see the tzadik's wagon arriving at the Arizal's mikveh on Erev Pesach. This time he made sure not to miss the ride back home.
The Rebbe extracted a promise from Yankel not to reveal this incident in his lifetime; it became known only after the Rebbe passed away in 1821.
HALLEL ON PARSHAS BESHALACH
Rav Yitzchok Isaac of Kaliv was once in Lizhensk during Parshas Beshalach. The Rebbe Elimelech asked the Kaliver to be absent when he recited Torah at the tisch for some secret reason that the Rebbe would not divulge, but the Kaliver did not wish to miss the opportunity to hear the Rebbe’s Chassidic discourse and so he remained.
As soon as the Noam Elimelech began to say Torah about the weekly Parsha, I was infused by such excitement and it set me aflame with such hislahavus that I imagined myself to be in the midst of offering the Korban Pesach – and so I sang Hallel!” (Ohel Elimelech #274)
Rav Chaim Efraim Zeitchik (Adar II 9)
A SIBERIAN GEMORA
Rav Zeitchik was Rosh Yeshiva in Buczacz when he was drafted into conscription in the Russian army. Eventually he was taken to Siberia, where half a kilo of bread and water from the distant, icy ravines were his only means of sustenance and nourishment, since all local water was poisoned and unfit to drink. The people, including himself, were unkempt and dressed in rags and tatters, sick, exhausted and in despair.
One day, Rav Chaim volunteered to draw the water from the far-off well, a distance of over three kilometers of frozen Siberian wasteland. His reason was that he had discovered somehow that a Jew lived in that area. Secretly, he hid the buckets and made his way, sneaking from tree to tree, from grove to grove, until he reached this Jewish family. He edged closer to the house and indeed discerned a mezuza on the doorpost. When the lady of the house answered his feeble knocking and saw a man dressed in rags, she was fearful of him as an escapee from the Siberian camps, but she was compassionate and offered him a treasure: a slice of bread! She was amazed when he shook his head. No, he didn’t want the bread. “I am a Jew. I don’t want your bread. Please, do you have a sefer?”
She called her husband. “I am so sorry,” the husband told Rav Zeitchik. “I am not a Rav – I only own one single sefer and I am not willing to part with it – it is a Gemora.”
“Please,” begged Rav Zeitchik and began to cry. “Please have mercy on me!” he sobbed. “At least give me just one daf! Don’t leave me like this!”
And so the ba’al habayis tore the Gemora in half. It was an edition of Nedorim and Nozir, and Rav Zeitchik got Maseches Nedorim. There was no one happier in the world at that moment!
The disinterested guards and workmen paid no heed to the safety of the working conditions; they did not value the lives of their charges much at all. And so one day as he was working, chopping and sawing wood, a heavy branch fell on Rav Chaim’s head and injured him. He fell to the ground, bleeding from the wound. His fellows gathered him up and were about to transport him to the local hospital for medical attention, when he stopped them. Before they took him any further, he directed them to make a stop on the way to the grove where he had hidden his secret treasure that he refused to leave behind – his torn portion of Maseches Nedorim, so that he could take it with him to the hospital! (Hirhurei Teshuva, Maamar 27)
Rav Yosef Boruch Epstein The Gutter Yid of Neustadt (Adar 10)
L’CHAIM HASHEM, GOOD NIGHT
Once Rav Yosef of Neustadt came to visit the Tiferes Shlomo in Radomsk. As the two tzaddikim sat side by side enjoying each other’s company, Rav Yosef asked if the Tiferes Shlomo could share an anecdote from his rebbe, Rav Fishel of Strikov since the Tiferes Shlomo was one of his disciples. The Tiferes Shlomo related how strong was Rav Fishel’s emuna (faith) in hashgacha pratis (Divine Providence). “He always believed that anything and everything that happened was directly related to him and specifically for his sake. For example, when the weather turned cold, the frost would make immersion in the mikvah a formidable ordeal. He would say: “I believe with full faith – b’emuna sheleima that this a test from Hashem whether I will immerse despite the cold and discomfort; but know, you Evil one, yetzer hara that you will not dissuade me nor block me from serving Hashem!”
Another story the Tiferes Shlomo shared was that before retiring to bed each night, Rav Fishel would take a glezzeleh bronfen (a glass of brandy or liquor) in hand and wish Hashem, “L’Chaim! L’Chaim Ribono Shel Olam sheAta MeKor HaChaim veChai HaChaim - a gitte Nacht! L’Chaim, L’Chaim Master of the World; You are the source of all life; I wish you a good night!”
He wished Hashem L’Chaim and a good night in Yiddish.
Rav Fishel even once explained the reason behind this unusual minhag (custom) of his:
“You must know that there are sick Jews everywhere in the world, and oftentimes it is at night that suffering intensifies. I attempt to bring some relief to them with my L’Chaim to Hashem based on the principle that He suffers in our suffering. I wish Hashem a good night, if He wants a peaceful night free of pain and distress, He must heal all the Jews’ suffering first! And so, I drink to Hashem and wish Him a good night – Gitte Nacht!” (Siach Sarfei Kodesh)
