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The Short Vort- -“In Memory of Leib Eichenstein” (8/30/10)
The Short Vort
Good Morning!
Today is Monday the 20th of Elul 5770 and August 30, 2010
In Memory of Leib Eichenstein
What follow is a written version of Shabbos’s drosha (sermon) which was delivered before a (somewhat) live audience at Congregation Ahavas Israel in Passaic, NJ.
Based on the positive feedback - I have decided to commit my spoken remarks to writing.
The Vort is entitled Three Coins in the Fountain, based on the fact that I responded to the comments/criticism I received from my readers regarding three Vorts which were disseminated in the last two weeks and which received an unusual amount of feedback.
The three Vorts which are referred to are:
- Friday the 10th of Elul 5770 and August 20, 2010: “May I Have This Dance?”
- Wednesday the 15th of Elul 5770 and August 25, 2010: “Downsizing”.
- Thursday the 16th of Elul 5770 and August 26, 2010: “Lesson Number Two”
Comments Number One on “May I Have This Dance?”
Although I received much feedback advocating the continued practice of separate circles at the Chasunah for the parents of the Chosson, Kallah and their friends, nevertheless, I add the following thoughts:
Although I certainly understand whythis has occurred: young people dance too intensely; older people do not know the Chosson and Kallah and feel their presence does not enhance the Simcha ….
However, when all is said and done, isn’t there something very wrong with the system?
Have we become so ‘it’s my way or no way’ oriented that if I don’t know the Chosson personally I can conclude that I cannot celebrate with him?
I still maintain the when weddings were smaller; less expensive; and less ‘crazy’ dancing, things were better.
When Klal Yisroel dances as one, despiteall the compelling reason which post-facto validate separate circles- things were better.
Hashem loved His people even more when they were able to dance as one despite all of the possible and probable reasons which are given to ‘split up’.
However, why do I feel so passionate about this?
I conclude with a story from my own wedding which occurred almost 30 years ago; when cell phones were a dream and people danced as one at weddings.
My father Z’L, who was born in 1925, was almost 60 years old when I married.
Many of his peers who attended my wedding were survivors ‘of the camps’.
They spoke with heavy Yiddish accents and they were often loud and somewhat uncouth.
They did not know about the Yankees and they were not embarrassed to embrace and kiss each other when they met at Chasunahs.
They were not yeshiva educated and they could not learn ‘a Blatt Gemara’.
They were not wealthy and they were frugal in their spending.
However, when they danced at a wedding, they danced as if this was their last dance.
My father’s friend Leib Eichenstein was one the Chevra (group).
He drove a taxi in Manhattan for thirty five years since the war ended.
He had two children; a boy and girl.
He believed in America.
He made his livelihood in America.
When it was time to send his children to school, he sent them to the public school of his host country; the country that took him in after Poland threw him out.
He regretted that decision.
His son- Jeffery- –who was his oldest- never married and never wanted to marry.
His son was rich and successful; America was good to him.
His son went to college and became a stock broker; making his first million before his thirtieth birthday.
He remained single and lived what he considered, ‘the good life’.
Leib’s daughter, Jennifer- was brilliant.
She received a ‘1600’ on her SAT exam and was granted a full scholarship at Barnard.
She was admitted to an MD/PHD program at 17 years old.
Her entire life was dedicated to finding a cure for cancer and for making the world a better place to live.
Unfortunately, she never found time to cure her father’s unhappiness.
Leib hoped his son would be his ‘kaddishel’; the son who would say Kaddish after him went he left this world.
It was not to be. As Jeffrey would often tell me when we would meet at simchos, “I am too smart to believe in anything as silly as a G-d”.
Jeffrey would never recite the Kaddish for his father Leib and Leib knew that too well.
Leib davened that his daughter Jennifer would bring him einaklach (grandchildren); this too was not to be.
Jennifer was so involved with healing the world; she had no time to heal herself or her father.
Jennifer was a ‘career woman’; and she lived in a childless universe.
My father Z’l and mother sent my brother and me to Yeshiva; in thanks to them I did not become Jeffrey Eichenstein.
On the night of my wedding, Leib- who was 61 years old- arrived early.
As he came into the Chosson’s Tisch- he spoke loudly and did not tie his tie neatly.
He sat through the Chupah and waited patiently as pictures were taken.
Then the dancing began.
At one point in the dancing someone suggested to pick up the Chosson on a chair.
As the group of young people began to lift me up, I noticed a fleshy arm reach out to help elevate the chair. As I looked at the arm- the arm with the blue numbers tattooed on to it- I knew immediately who was the ‘owner’ of the arm.
Leib Eichenstein did not ‘know’ me.
Leib Eichenstein was not ‘my friend’.
Yet, Leib Eichenstein danced with me with more enthusiasm than 90% of the men who were there.
Leib danced as it there was no tomorrow; indeed, for him there was no tomorrow.
When he was leaving the wedding, Leib came over to me, stuffed an envelope into my inner jacket pocket and said to me the words which became emblazoned on my mind for the last 28 years.
“Ron, I am so happy for you. Not just that you have gotten married, but more importantly how you married.
You are probably wondering why an ‘alter Yid’ (old Jew) such as I danced so much at your wedding?
Allow me to tell you the following:
Your wedding makes me realize that there is hope.
My son Jeffrey will never say the Kaddish for me.
My daughter Jennifer- will never give me grandchildren.
I spent five years suffering, starving and dying to survive ‘the war’.
However, my victory was short lived.
What Hitler could not do to me with the butt of a gun or the crack of a whip- I did to myself.
I arrived in the ‘promised land’ and achieved prosperity and freedom.
However, in achieving freedom, I lost my soul and my G-d.
Ron, you showed me tonight that there is hope and there is endurance.
I saw you staring at my numbers when I helped pick you up.
If someone would have told me when those numbers were burned into my flesh that I would one day dance at a real Yiddishe Chasunah, I would have said that they have lost their mind.
Ron, I know we are not ‘friends’ but, in ways more meaningful than any Nachas my children have ever given me- I felt a sense of victory and validation by being able to dance with you at your chasunah.
Thank you and one more thing.
Ron, promise me that whenever you see one of us; you know what I mean, one of us with ‘the numbers’.
Please promise that you will never leave us to remain out of the circle.
Please promise me when you see one my Chevra at a Chasunah that you will schlep him into the inner circle.
Thank you and may Hashem bless you.”
I guess you now can understand why I never liked separate circles.