The Short Vort by Rabbi Eisenman

The phone rang, and the caller said, "Hello, Rebbe. Is that you?" 

"I'm sorry; who am I speaking to?" 

"Rebbe, it's me, Yanky!" 

Maybe it's long Covid or short Covid or just being in my sixties; whatever the reason, I had no idea who I was speaking to.

Yanky who?

I was trying my best to figure out who this Yanky was. I hoped as he continued speaking, I would be able to recognize who Yanky was. 

"Rebbe, guess what?" 

Oy, this was getting harder by the minute. 

How many Yankys did I know?

I quickly exerted all powers of concentration.

He called me Rebbe, which meant he must have been my Talmid in eighth grade when I was a Rebbe in yeshiva.

I left being a Rebbe for the Rabbinate (what was that a smart decision?) in 2001.

Attempting to do the math in my head was a daunting task. I tried to figure out how old Yanky was.

I stalled for more time.

"Yanky, before I guess, how have you been?"

Before Yanky could answer, and realizing math in my head is not my forte, I grabbed a "Post-It" and subtracted 2001 from 2023. That equaled 22.

I then figured most eighth-grade boys were 13, so I added that to 22 and arrived at 35.

That means, at the very least, Yanky is 35.

Should I guess, "Yanky, you became a Chosson?" That was too risky. After all, maybe he was already married with five kids. 

Should I guess, "Yanky, Mazel Tov, you're making your first Bar Mitzvah!"

However, that, too, was perilous. After all, perhaps Yanky had called me five years ago to tell me about the birth of his third straight daughter, and he would be highly insulted that I forgot that news.

I decided to play it safe. 

"Yanky, I am too old to guess. Please surprise me." 

"Rebbe, you'll never believe this. I was appointed the head therapist at the Jewish

Community Mental Health Clinic in Outoftownville, Texas.  

I also say a Shiur in Daf Yomi daily and pinch-hit for the Rabbi in my Shul when he is away.

Rebbe, I'll bet even you never imagined I would reach such a position of responsibility.  

I'd wager that twenty-five years ago, when I was in eighth grade, and you pushed me to go to the Mesivta Baruch Beryl Chaim Yosef, you never thought I would get Semicha and earn a Ph.D. in psychology!"

Suddenly, it all came back to me. Yanky was my Talmid over two decades ago.  He

was right. I never thought he would get Semicha and become a top psychologist. 

I recalled he was fidgety and restless.

"Yanky, this is fantastic news! I am so happy for you. However, don't thank me;

you earned all this through hard work and Siyata D"Shemaya." 

"Rebbe, not true. If it wasn't for your creative test marking system, I never would have had the confidence to keep going. You believed in me!" 

Creative test marking system? What was Yanky talking about?  

I never had any creative marking system.

I recalled being satisfied if I completed marking the tests on time.

I don't remember any system which could be called "creative."

My marking system consisted of putting a check when the answer was right and an X when the answer was wrong. What was he referring to?

Again my old brain could not recall anything remotely referred to as "creative."

Thankfully, Yanky continued. "Rebbe, remember how you marked my Chumash and Gemara tests? Even when I earned a 65 or 70,

you would write, "Yanky, 100% in Middos Tovos! 100% for effort!" And then, at the bottom of the test, you would write, "SMAC."

We used to joke that my tests earned me many "SMACs!"  

Rebbe, you for sure remember the SMACs." 

Finally, the light bulb came to life and began to flicker in my brain.

He was right; I did remember. SMAC stood for "See Me After Class." 

I would write SMAC for any boy I felt needed a little more Chizuk, and instead of making an X, I would write SMAC. The boy would come to me after class.  I would almost always be able to coax the correct (or close to the correct) answer from the boy who needed an additional nudge. 

I then would raise his grade accordingly.

It became a joke in the class; Rabbi Eisenman gives SMACs, and the boys wanted more SMACs! 

"Rebbe, those SMACs and those 100% marks in Middos and effort bolstered

and boosted my confidence and motivated me to succeed. Rebbe, I had to call you and tell you where I am today!" 

I was silent as I listened to Yanky's wonderful

story.  It was then I realized tears were running down my cheeks. 

"Rebbe, what's the matter? Why are you crying?"  "Yanky, I was not the originator of giving 100% nor of asking boys to see me after class to attempt to get a correct answer from them.

My eighth-grade Rebbe, Rabbi Mendel Cohen ZT"L, who had survived Auschwitz, did the same for me when I was in his class.

I was copying the system, the successful system my Rebbe did with me.

Yanky, if not for Rabbi Cohen, neither of us would have succeeded.  I remember we would laugh at Rabbi Cohen and say, "Rebbe, why do you give out 100% in Middos and effort? What good will that do us?" And he would answer, "One day after I am long gone,

and you have Talmidim of your own, you will

realize how "good" and important it was that I gave you those marks of 100. 

Remember me when that day arrives and learn a Mishna with your Talmid in my Zechus." 

"Yanky, Rabbi Cohen was right; that day has arrived!   Let's learn a Mishna together for the heilige Neshama of Rabbi

Cohen." 

Yanky and I began to learn, but before we finished the Mishna, we were both overcome by the greatness of Rabbi Cohen.

He was a man who survived Auschwitz yet, had the will and ingenuity to instill self-esteem in his students, before the term was coined!

We composed ourselves and continued to learn.

Somehow we knew Rabbi Cohen was learning with us.