Rabbi Aryeh Levin zt"l was known for his special love of human beings. This mitzva of "love your neighbor as yourself" was engraved in his soul. A wonderful story about his devotion to others was told by his son, the Gaon Rabbi of the Kriyas Chana:
When I was a child, I remember that every Rosh Chodesh my father used to buy sweets and pack them in a small package and bring them to a certain mentally ill person who was hospitalized at Ezrat Nashim Hospital on the outskirts of the city. Once, I begged my father to take me with him. On the way, we met one of my relatives in Jerusalem who asked my father how his mentally ill relative was doing. My father answered: "Thank God, I am on my way to visit him." I was very surprised because I didn't know about the existence of such a patient in our family, but I didn't have the courage to ask what it meant. We arrived at the hospital, my father went inside, and I waited for him outside by the gate. A few moments passed, and my father came back, leaving the sweets in the hands of the "relative" patient. On our way, my father took me by the hand and said, "You will surely be surprised at the unknown relative we have just visited. Let me tell you an incident that happened:
One evening, I was making my way to this hospital, and as I passed close to the hospital wall, I heard screams of terror. I heard the screams of a man groaning in agony. I said to myself: 'It is true that there is a mental hospital in the place, but it still doesn't sound ordinary.' I turned around and saw a bruised man who was beaten all over his body walking down the hallway, screaming, screaming, sighing, and moaning in agony. I asked the residents of the house what this meant, and they replied that since the man was on a rampage, they tied him up and beat him until he stopped the rampage. I asked, 'And that's what they do to everyone else?' and they answered, 'Admittedly, until a while ago, this was the method. But not long ago, we were treated with medications that came from abroad, and since then, they have stopped beating us.' "And how is this sick person different from others?" "He's lonely, he doesn't have relatives to protect him, so he's still being treated with the old method." I cried out, 'Is it possible? I went over to him and introduced him as his relative, and to illustrate our closeness, I went into the nearby store and bought sweets for him, and all the patients
