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From Beis Moshiach Magazine

– I –

The lustrous countenance of the tzaddik, Rabbi Levi Yitzchok, appeared in the doorway of the chevra kaddisha in Berditchev. R’ Shmuel, the gabbai of the chevra kaddisha, was astonished. The tzaddik had never visited the gravediggers work space before.

Despite the tzaddik’s serious, preoccupied demeanor, the spark of love that glinted in his eyes was not dimmed. R’ Shmuel quickly stood up to welcome Reb Levi Yitzchok.

“Why did our Rav bother to come here? If the Rav would have called me to his house, I would have gladly come!”

Reb Levi Yitzchok did not respond.

“Are there any pairs of tefillin of childless people who passed away?” the tzaddik asked.

R’ Shmuel nodded. It was an old practice when childless men passed away that they would give their possessions to the local hekdesh and the gemilus chassadim society. Their tashmishei kedusha were taken by the gabbai of the chevra kaddisha and sold to the highest bidder to fund the work of the chevra kaddisha.

“I’d like to see the pairs of tefillin left here,” said Reb Levi Yitzchok with a smile.

R’ Shmuel put out about twenty pairs of tefillin on the table, most of them old, worn and faded.

The tzaddik picked up the tefillin one by one and examined them, turning them this way and that as though looking for something. Suddenly, his face lit up. He held a pair of tefillin and exclaimed, “Ah, holy tefillin!” He kissed and hugged them. “I want to buy these tefillin at full price,” he said excitedly.

R’ Shmuel took the tefillin and after putting on his glasses he looked at the tefillin closely and said, “They just arrived here yesterday. They are the tefillin of old Zundel who passed away yesterday.” R’ Shmuel returned the tefillin to Reb Levi Yitzchok.

“We had a small funeral for him yesterday. Zundel was a simple man. One didn’t see anything special about him. Someone told us about his passing and with a handful of people present we buried him. Will our Rav use these tefillin?! I am sure that our Rav puts on tefillin written by an expert scribe, a yerei shomayim, who wrote them with all the hiddurim, and who surely also meditated on lofty secrets as he wrote them. I don’t understand!”

Said Reb Levi Yitzchok, “I will tell you what happened,” and the tzaddik and the gabbai sat down.

The tziyun of Reb Levi Yitzchok in Berditchev

– II –

Two bent-over figures walked slowly down the path that approached the small village. They had heavy packs on their backs and gnarled sticks in their hands. They were the two righteous brothers, Rabbi Elimelech and Rabbi Zushe, who were conducting a self-exile among the cities and towns of Galicia.

They wandered from place to place, wanting to atone and cleanse their souls, desiring to attain high spiritual levels. Despite their involvement in self-refinement, this did not stop them from being involved with other Jews.

Who like these two tzaddikim understood the lofty value of a pure Jewish neshama which descended from the hidden spheres into both a spiritual and physical exile. These tzaddikim would take pure neshamos and gently polish them and cleanse them from their pasts and draw the hearts of Jews close to their Father in heaven.

The two brothers had arrived at an inn and they silently took off their heavy bundles and prepared for Maariv. Zundel the innkeeper approached and welcomed them.

“Finish your prayers and then sit down to eat the meal I prepared for you,” he said hospitably.

Zundel removed his worn cap and quickly disappeared into the kitchen where he could be heard humming a lively peasant tune. Zundel was a simple man. He had never plumbed the depths of a Talmudic topic and did not recite the Tikkun Chatzos, Just once a week, as the Shabbos entered, did he sit and read Shir HaShirim with a tune that he learned from his departed father. Then he reviewed the parsha, albeit with mistakes.

The guests sat at the table facing one another and spoke. Their eyes were pure and they saw and knew everything, including that which was hidden from people’s eyes. They were all too familiar with the shortcomings of their fellow Jews as well as the deficiencies of this Zundel.

“Elimelech, my dear brother,” suddenly said Reb Zushe, his voice breaking. “I don’t know what to say. Oy, my sin is too great to bear.”

Reb Elimelech leaned forward with great interest.

“It’s been many years since I bought my tefillin,” continued Reb Zushe. “I’ve already forgotten when I bought them. I think that our father bought them for my bar mitzva. To my great shame, I haven’t had them checked since.”

Reb Elimelech patted his brother’s arm but Reb Zushe’s face looked grave. R’ Elimelech shook his head and exclaimed in disbelief, “Is it possible that a Jew would not check his tefillin in so many years. Who knows, maybe they became pasul in the interim? And who knows, maybe the tefillin were pasul to begin with and you never fulfilled the mitzva of tefillin!”

Reb Zushe covered his face with his hands. A heavy silence hung in the air. Zundel stood frozen in place. He couldn’t help but hear the conversation of his two guests. ‘I also have never had my tefillin checked,’ Zundel thought, somewhat surprised. ‘I also received my tefillin from my father and never checked them. Oy vey, what a bizarre and wondrous confluence of events.’

“I don’t know what to tell you, my brother,” said the stern voice of Reb Elimelech. “This is terrible. That a Jew doesn’t check his tefillin?! What will you answer on Judgment Day if it turns out that you never put on tefillin? Will you be able to honestly say that it wasn’t your fault?”

Reb Elimelech’s voice cut deeply into the depths of the soul. The holy brothers knew good and well that Zundel’s tefillin needed to be checked.

Zundel rubbed his head in disbelief. ‘How is it that I never thought of this before? Who knows, maybe… maybe, I never put on tefillin…’

With hesitant steps he approached the brothers. “Excuse me,” he mumbled in apology, “I’m sorry for disturbing you. I couldn’t help but hear what you said. The same thing happened to me and I think my tefillin have never been checked.”

Reb Elimelech fixed his gaze on the dejected face of the villager. He nodded slightly and Zundel ran to fetch his tefillin. With trembling hand he opened the cracked straps whose dye had long since peeled off.

Reb Elimelech opened the boxes and Zundel’s eyes opened wide. Ai! The boxes were empty!

Zundel was paralyzed by shock. He was a simple man but G-d fearing. He suddenly grabbed his head with both hands and cried out, “Oy!”

He uttered just one word which encapsulated all his pain and sorrow. His anguish was so great, as though a close relative’s body was lying before him.

The holy brothers had great compassion for this man standing before them whose world had crashed. Tears poured from Reb Zushe’s yes and were absorbed in the tablecloth. The open, empty tefillin on the table lay there in shame.

“Please calm down,” Reb Elimelech consoled Zundel. “Our Father and King in heaven loves every Jew. He knows that this was done unknowingly. He knows you are heartbroken.”

Zundel recovered and his speech returned to him.

“How is this possible? I never put tefillin on in my life?!”

Reb Elimelech looked at his brother and Reb Zushe returned his gaze. Zundel’s distress touched their hearts. “You know, my dear brother,” Reb Elimelech said in a confiding tone to his brother, “Zundel deserves that you write new parshiyos for him and when you write them, you will do so with lofty intentions, thus inserting an abundance of G-dly light in them, so that this great light will make up for the lack of holy light he was missing all those years.”

Reb Zushe silently accepted what his older brother said. After immersing, Reb Zushe sat down to write new parshiyos. With great care he wrote them, being particular with every tittle even as he invested them with the loftiest of intentions.

Toward evening, he finished the exhausting work. Zundel was thrilled to receive the new tefillin. “How can I bless you?”

Reb Elimelech and Reb Zushe loaded their packs on their backs once again and headed out, to draw more Jews back to their Father in heaven.

– III –

“That is the secret of these tefillin,” concluded Reb Levi Yitzchok, while R’ Shmuel the gravedigger looked at him in astonishment. “These parshiyos were written by the tzaddik, Reb Zushe, himself. A great light is hidden in these tefillin written by the holy hand of the tzaddik in sanctity and purity.”

Reb Levi Yitzchok got up and held the tefillin bag with reverence. “Ah, holy tefillin!” he repeated, as he walked out.

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