chanoukah 5768

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Maran Harav Chaim Kanievsky shlit”a:

One who contributes to Kupat Ha’ir Merits Open Miracles

Maran Hagaon Harav

Chaim Kanievsky, shlit”a, discussing with the Rabbanim of Kupat Ha’ir the details regarding the assistance to be provided to the needy families


Maran Hagaon Harav Chaim Kanievsky shlit”a

Heading a meeting of “Kupat Ha’ir” Rabbanim

“Let’s see what’s new with Kupat Ha’ir this time,” people say to one another with admiring smiles. “I wonder how else they can still surprise us. I mean, there must come a point when they’ll run out of novel innovations.” And they take the brochure in hand – this very one – and flip through its pages. Yeshuos? Oh, certainly. They, too, have an outstanding yeshuah that they really ought to send in.

The distress stories? Sigh. Would the tzaros in Klal Yisrael never end? But the fingers keep flipping, looking for the chiddush… the interesting chiddush that would become the talk of the town. The type of chiddush you could discuss and analyze from all sides, the type of chiddush you admire for the brilliant rays glancing off its edges. Such a chiddush – is it there?

It is!


The official directors of Kupat Ha’ir Maran Hagaon Shmuel Halevi Wosner

Maran shlit”a, discussing the details regarding the assistance to be provided to a needy family Seated around the table are the rabbanim of Kupat Ha’ir: Hagaon Harav Elkarif, Hagaon Harav Gross, Hagaon Harav Silman, Hagaon Harav Klein, Hagaon Harav Stern and Hagaon Harav Shafran, shlit”a. On the table in front of them are heavy, thick folders containing applications for assistance and relevant data. The gabba’im are ready to impart the necessary information regarding each request. On the surface, it seems like a typical meeting. But it isn’t. This meeting is taking place in the home of Maran Hagaon Harav Chaim Kanievsky, shlit”a, the light of our generation. Kupat Ha’ir, which has the merit of having the Gedolei Hador, shlit”a, act as its directors, wants to have them join the rabbanim’s meeting as well, the meetings in which the financial decisions are made regarding how much is allotted to whom – decisions that often involve life-anddeath considerations. Harav Chaim has agreed, and this time, he will be the representative of the Gedolei Hador

at the meeting. To spare him superfluous effort, the venue of the meeting was set in his home.

Getting Ready

Maran Hagaon Aharon Leib Steinman Maran Hagaon Michel Yehuda Lefkowitz Maran Hagaon Chaim Kanievsky

Maran, shlit”a, prepares to greet the rabbinical committee of Kupat Ha’ir in his private room. This meeting is not meant to attract attention! The names of needy families will be mentioned and that is strictly confidential information. The Rebbetzin, tlit”a, often uses this room to receive the female guests who come from all over Eretz Yisrael to visit with her.

Maran Hagaon Nissim Karelitz

“Today, the room will not be available until 11 o’clock as usual,” the Rav told the Rebbetzin. “The Kupat Ha’ir meeting is scheduled to begin at 10:30.” The family’s s c h e d u l e changes,

T he docume nt of the Ged olei Hador re to become D questing irectors of K upat Ha'ir


furniture is moved around… Maran, shlit”a is preparing to host a meeting of rabbanim in his home. He sees these preparations as so simple, so necessary, so self-understood… As if his home doesn’t usually run on a tight schedule, as if everything hasn’t been taking place at the same set time for years and years. But this is different. It’s obvious… simple, really. The rabbinical meeting of Kupat Ha’ir, you see, that’s all…

Da’as Torah Maran, shlit”a, intends to be present at this meeting. He wants to be there for the families whose cases will be discussed that evening, to lend his authority – pure da’as Torah – to all the decisions that will be made. He wants to give the meeting that presence that will make clear to the world at large its importance with regard to the needy families, to the contributors and volunteers and to all of Klal Yisrael. The meeting of the rabbanim of Kupat Ha’ir that

Maran Hagaon Harav Chaim Kanievsky shlit”a

Heading a meeting of Kupat Ha’ir Rabbanim

will be held today is a meeting that affects all of Klal Yisrael – can we make light of that?

10:33 Maran enters the room at 10:33. He closed his Gemara at 10:30 sharp – instead of at 11:00 – and made his way from his study to the room where the meeting was being held. A casual bystander might not understand why this step so excites the audience, but those who know Rav Chaim well know that he never closes his Gemara before 11:00 at night – not if there’s a huge line of people waiting to see him, not if someone has a critical question, not if his decision on a certain matter is crucial. Everyone waits patiently behind the closed door until 11:00. Before that time, Maran is engrossed in

Maran, shlit”a, at the height of the negotiations.


learning and one dare not disturb him!

lofty as they might be. There’s no time to think and feel.

And yet tonight, he closed his Gemara at 10:30, kissed it and rose to attend the meeting. At 10:33, his majestic figure appeared in the doorway of his private room where the rabbanim were waiting - and the meeting began.

“Give Give So and So Much” Much

There is no ceremony, no speech or introductory microphones. This is not a “historical gathering,” an “emergency appeal” or a “festive event.” Just a meeting with the rabbanim of Kupat Ha’ir. That’s all.

Headed By… Maran, shlit”a, takes his seat at the place reserved for him at the head of the table and from this point on, that place is the focal point of the meeting. Rav Chaim asks and answers questions, listens and decides, makes suggestions and gives advice. As far as he’s concerned, he isn’t there merely to lend distinction to the event – he is a full-fledged participant. In fact, he is the main participant. His word is the final say on all matters. For a moment, everyone’s heart surges with an exalted sensation. Could it be that this is not a dream? Could it be that this event is something other than the dearest hope of Kupat Ha’ir, whose ideas are always far out? But the meeting continues. The list of requests is so long that the applications overflow the folders. Time is precious; it dare not be frittered away on emotions,

The gabbai raises the subject of Family X. Maran, shlit”a, is familiar with the situation. The family is about to marry off another child and they don’t have a penny to their name. They live in abject poverty, barely keeping body and soul together. “Did they receive assistance when they married off their previous child?” Rav Chaim inquires. When a family like this marries off a child, chances are the children literally go hungry. The gabbai responds in the affirmative. “How much?” The gabbai provides the exact figure. “What did they marry off then – a son or a daughter?” The gabbai, who knows the families like the palm of his hand, answers the question immediately. He has no need to pull out his Palm Pilot and check. The facts are all clearly arranged in his mind. He eats, breathes and sleeps (or doesn’t sleep) them. “And what are they marrying off now?” Maran, shlit”a, listens to the answer and considers for a moment. His hand – the very same pure hand that has turned the pages of countless holy sefarim; the very same one that covers his eyes when he

The Gedolei Hador signing the documents and checks of Kupat Ha’ir


recites Shema and communes with Hashem – now supports his majestic face as he declares,

“Now they should be given so and so much.” The household must continue to run during this period, too. Pens run along the lines of the next application, but that same incredible sensation surfaces again, making it difficult to go on. Next family. The name is mentioned and the situation is described briefly along with Kupat Ha’ir’s efforts to alleviate the crushing poverty. Maran, shlit”a, listens and nods. Yes, he agrees with the action that has been taken…he, too, thinks that was the right thing to do! The Rav sitting at his side suggests a way to continue providing assistance and Maran agrees. Once again, the pens fly along the lines and the discussion moves on to the next family.

Bread to Eat When the name of a certain poor family comes up that literally does not have bread to eat, Maran tenses visibly. He wants to know why Kupat Ha’ir

Maran Hagaon Harav Chaim Kanievsky shlit”a

Heading a meeting of Kupat Ha’ir Rabbanim

did not know about this family until now and how they intend to deal with the situation. The gabbai explains that the family’s situation deteriorated suddenly to this terrible point and assures Maran that the moment the situation came to the attention of Kupat Ha’ir, emergency action was taken. Maran advises the rabbanim what to do next and everyone listens carefully. Maran’s suggestions tackle the problem from numerous directions and present the perfect solution to a number of the family’s most prominent difficulties. For a moment, the room is silent with only the sound of Maran’s brief words reverberating through it. The tangible excitement hides behind intense concentration as all eyes focus intently on Maran, eager to absorb his plan. While outlining his solution, Maran sighs. That such situations exist, despite their constant efforts… “Six years ago, there were many such families,” the gabbai says in an effort to calm Harav Chaim’s agitation. “Thanks to Kupat Ha’ir, such situations

Maran Hagaon HaravMichel Yehuda Lefkovitz, shlit”a, discussing with the Rabbanim of Kupat Ha’ir the details regarding the assistance to be provided to the needy families


are rare today.” Maran nods, his expression saying it all: That much is self-understood. After all, that’s why Kupat Ha’ir was established. How awful it would be if every family in the folder were to receive the same anguished sigh! Harav Kanievsky is already deliberating over how to deal with the situation of the next family on the list, a family he knows personally. He sways ever so slightly in his seat. This was a tough question to decide. A meeting with the rabbanim of Kupat Ha’ir, that’s all!

Spiritual Needs Another question. The gabba’im describe the family’s situation. “They live in abject poverty, but they’re managing to stay afloat. Every cent is accounted for; they don’t spend a penny on anything that’s not absolutely necessary. They have food and the basics; they live decent lives – but the frugality with which they’re forced to live is taking a toll. It’s mainly the extended family that’s pressing. Both the husband and wife are ba’alei teshuvah who abandoned warm families. Their families are now trying to weaken the couple’s resolve, saying, “You became religious? Look what you got: poverty and lack!” No one in their extended family is struggling financially, only them. By Kupat Ha’ir’s criteria, such a family is not eligible for assistance. As long as a f a m i l y can “pull the wagon”

on its own, the resources are channeled to those who can not. But in this case, since the family is under such pressure and the nisayon seems to be to great to bear – maybe the regulations should be stretched somewhat? Maran listens and nods. The drumming of his fingers on the table testifies to the conflicting thoughts running through his straight-as-a-ruler mind. There are factors to take into consideration on either side, but in the end, he rules in a tone of voice that brooks no hesitation: “Definitely! They must be helped! Kupat Ha’ir does not help only with material needs. This family has spiritual needs!” And once again, the room is illuminated by Torah, as pure and radiant as the day we received it at Har Sinai.

Serving Under A Talmid Chacham More names. The pace speeds up; decision after decision is made. Who should receive assistance, how much, in what way. Maran takes it all in. His brief, to-thepoint questions indicate that no detail escapes his attention. The meeting continues and new questions arise. When da’as Torah is right there, within reach, everything is different.

The Gedolei Hador Donating to the Kupat Ha’ir Pushka at the entrance to their homes


Maran continues answering. Sometimes, he quotes the sources by way of response. With some families, he determines the sum to be provided as assistance; with others, he questions the sum suggested by the gabba’im, listens to their reasoning and finally approves.

Maran Hagaon Harav Chaim Kanievsky shlit”a

Heading a meeting of Kupat Ha’ir Rabbanim

The shoulders of the members of the rabbinical committee, which usually slump during such meetings as a result of the enormity of the responsibility upon them – straighten up this time. For them, this is “shimush talmid chacham” of the first degree! They clearly see their rebbi fulfilling the job that lies squarely on their own shoulders, and they can follow his decisions, one by one, and learn from them.

Lechaim

The meeting is about to end. Harav Chaim’s face is aglow. He has merited to help Kupat Ha’ir in a practical fashion rather than merely offering guidance or determining criteria. He has actually participated, as an insider, in bringing relief to the needy families!

Everyone looks expectantly at Reb Chaim to see his reaction. The memory of the famous wine from Reb Chaim’s siyumim is not easily forgotten. Wine? On a weekday? For something other than the celebration of the completion of a maseches?

The emotion causing a lump in everyone’s throat spurs the following suggestion. Someone suggests: “Maybe we should drink a lechaim to the success of the appeal?”

Maybe that was a one-time thing… but now? Maran nods happily. Wine is brought in and the rich liquid is poured into small glasses. “Lechaim!” “May the appeal be successful!” May the hopes be fulfilled and may the families receive all the assistance they require. May we not have to turn anyone down… The wine is not strong at all but tears spring to everyone’s eyes. The feeling is indescribable.

Maran shlit"a drinking L'chaim to the success of the fundraiser

Maran turns to leave but the glory and majesty of the meeting linger on. The rabbanim rise, too, and the gabba’im collect the overflowing folders. Many important decisions have been made. Many suggestions have been raised. But there was something else, too, something that transcended all that. Some things are just above and beyond an “ordinary” rabbinical meeting, beyond normal expectations, beyond the sun…


2

The

reasons

offered by Maran Harav Kanievsky, shlit”a:

as to why one who contributes to Kupat Ha’ir Merits Open Miracles: Toward the end of the meeting, someone very close to Harav Kanievsky entered the room. He took advantage of the opportunity to ask a question that had been troubling many people. “In today’s generation, we don’t see open miracles. Hashem runs the world in a hidden fashion. How is it that with Kupat Ha’ir, we do see open miracles? Maran rejected the question and quoted the Chasam Sofer: “In our beis medrash, we saw in a tangible way [the miracle of] ‘standing cramped together but having plenty of space to bow.’” And he explained: “Where the Gedolei Hador are involved, you see open miracles. Hashem runs his world in a general way, but where Gedolei Yisrael are involved, there’s a different type of hanhagah. That’s why people who contribute to Kupat Ha’ir merit witnessing open miracles.” See that, even the Chasam Sofer witnessed miracles!

“But there are other places where Gedolei Yisrael are involved,” the questioner persisted. “There are other tzedakah organizations endorsed by the Gedolei Hador, other institutions, other establishments. Why is it only here that people see open miracles?” “The people in charge of Kupat Ha’ir can be likened to Rabbi Chanina ben Teradyon,” Maran replies as if that much ought to be selfunderstood. It’s so simple; he’s already said it a number of times. He doesn’t even notice how so many hearts stop pounding for a moment, how everyone’s breath catches in his throat. The tzedakah organization of the Gedolei Hador, combined with gabba’im of the stature of Rabbi Chanina ben Teradyon… with such a combination, you see open miracles! Everyones eyes meet as if pulled by a higher force. Open miracles! All we have to do is open our eyes and see!


A River of Yeshuos The Heftsiba Collapse This story is about a young couple renting an apartment in Bnei Brak. The wife worked as a first grade teacher in Ra’anana. With the exception of the hassle of the commute, she was very pleased with her job. The apartment they received upon their marriage, on paper, was located in Beitar Ilit. They planned to rent out that apartment as soon as it was ready and continue living in Bnei Brak. A commute from Beitar to Ra’anana would not be simple at all. In fact, considering the fact that there is no direct bus line between the two cities, it would be downright impossible. But the world turned upside-down one day when Heftsiba collapsed and hundreds of families “invaded” their apartments no matter what stage of construction they were up to. What about water? Electricity? Never mind; the most important thing was to protect the apartment.

Our teacher and her family, too, packed their belongings and moved in to their almost-ready apartment in Beitar Ilit. They were afraid to leave the apartment lest the bank seize it. Soon the new school year would be starting. How would she get from Beitar to Ra’anana every day? Faced with no alternative, she contacted Chinuch Atzma’i and asked for a transfer. She knew she didn’t stand much chance: Beitar was home to thousands of young women eager for a fraction of a position. But she had to do her hishtadlus. The response she received on Friday, 11 Elul was negative. Chinuch Atzmai empathized with her situation but they couldn’t help the hundreds of women who had suddenly moved to Heftsiba projects across the country! Her heart plummeted but she didn’t despair. She contributed generously to Kupat Ha’ir and prayed… maybe the merit of the contribution would move things in Shamayim? On Monday, three days later, she received a call from the Chinuch Atzma’i offices. They were pleased to inform her that they had a job for her as a teacher in one of the younger grades in a developing school in Beitar Ilit.

Tel: 057-3111343 When we see yeshuos like these, showered upon us directly from Shamayim, we cannot help but think of other yeshuos, the


ones we create with our money. The yeshuos yeshuos for them as badly as we want yeshuos for that illuminate dismal homes and enable ourselves? parents to feed their children. True, it’s just ma’aser money or maybe chomesh – just a little bit so that we know we’ve done something for those who cannot make it on their own. But Lema’alah Miderech Hateva such yeshuos! The money effects real yeshuos for the needy families - and Hashem repays One day, late in the evening, a woman contacted Kupat contributors in kind.

The Investment

Ha’ir crying hysterically. Her brother had been hurt in a terrible accident in the United States and he was in very critical condition. She contributed to Kupat Ha’ir and asked to have his name forwarded to the rabbanim so they would daven for him. That was immediately arranged, but the young man’s situation deteriorated steadily.

We received a sweet letter from a child in Beit Shemesh. The yeshuah he describes is not your typical one at all. In the morning, she knew the situation was hopeless. All his systems had failed. He was hooked onto a respirator. Here it is, verbatim; only his name was omitted. The doctors who examined him shrugged their Dear Kupat Ha’ir, shoulders. The woman ran to Rebbetzin Kanievsky, tlit”a, I’m 12.5 years old and I attend the Gerrer cheder, Beis Yisrael, in Beit sobbing as if her heart would break. Shemesh. I’m considered a troublemaker who can’t sit still for five minutes. On Tuesday morning, 22 Tamuz, we had a substitute. He came to my seat and asked me to make sure he wouldn’t have to call my name the entire morning. I told him that if he would contribute NIS 10 to Kupat Ha’ir, I would try my best to behave. On that day, we had a chazarah (review). Each of us studied with a partner for the national Girsa Deyankusa test. I sat and studied the entire day; I don’t remember ever studying so nicely before. The next day, the rebbi gave me NIS 10 to forward to Kupat Ha’ir. Enclosed is NIS 10.

You can’t read such a letter, the sincerity of which speaks for itself, without picking up on the purity of the child’s emotions. The rebbi shouldn’t have to call his name all day? in order for that to happen, he needed a nes of the magnitude of a Kupat Ha’ir yeshuah. But if we examine the story closely, we see something else. How much does this child have to invest in order to sit still not just for five minutes but all day? He was willing to invest that much effort for the sake of needy Jews… that would give him the strength. Are we willing to invest a fraction of the amount of this boy’s effort for the sake of the families supported by Kupat Ha’ir? Do we understand how badly we ought to want them to have enough money to have their needs seen to? Do we want

“Contribute to Kupat Ha’ir,” the Rebbetzin suggested. “I already did that,” she wept. “It didn’t help!” Suddenly, she recalled

reading

in


previous brochures from Kupat Ha’ir something Harav Chaim had said: “To merit a yeshuah that is lma’alah miderech hateva, you need to contribute lema’alah miderech hateva.” “I hereby contribute an additional $2000 to Kupat Ha’ir,” she exclaimed. Rebbetzin Kanievsky brought the woman to Reb Chaim. “This woman’s brother,” she explained, “is in critical condition after a car accident. She just contributed $2000 to Kupat Ha’ir.” Through her tears, the woman heard Harav Kanievsky bless her brother and add that surely the merit of the mitzvah of tzedakah would stand in his stead and he would be saved. Her tears dried on her cheeks. Could it be that there was still hope? Twenty minutes later, her brother was taken off the respirator. The doctors were utterly flabbergasted: they had never seen a person return from the dead, and so quickly, yet!!! His condition improved rapidly and he was discharged from the hospital a few days later. How many yeshuos will be effected with these $2000? That’s more than NIS 8000. It’s astonishing how many yeshuos can be done with that kind of money for families that haven’t a cent to their name. And whoever makes yeshuos down here, Hashem sends him yeshuos from there!

Tel: 03-6184315

It’s Going Up! The family who sent us this story has a sickly child, Rachmana litzlan, and sometimes he situation is far from simple. One day, her mother noticed that the little girl wasn’t feeling well. She dialed 101 and ordered an ambulance. Hatzalah burst into their house moments later and began trying to stabilize the child’s situation. The mother stood in the corner of the room, weeping and praying. The Hatzalah team was focused on the pulse oximeter, which indicated the levels of oxygen saturation in her blood. The reading was low, much lower than it should be, and it continued plummeting… Thirty minutes passed. Thirty minutes (!!!) of intensive efforts. It was impossible to even place the child on a stretcher and carry her to the ambulance so she could be sped to a nearby hospital. For thirty minutes, the levels of oxygen saturation were far too low and dropping all the time. “There’s nothing to do anymore,” one of the medics whispered in despair. “She hasn’t got a chance.” The mother burst into tears. At that moment, she and her husband were struck by the identical thought: there is still something else we can do. A contribution to Kupat Ha’ir! She ran to the phone and quickly dialed Kupat ha’ir’s 1-800 number. Her fingers trembled and she had to dial again and again but finally she got through to the kupat Ha’ir operator. “I want to contribute to Kupat Ha’ir!” the desperate mother shouted. “Quickly, quickly, it’s pikuach nefesh!” She gave the woman at the other end of the line her credit card number. When the operator inquired how much she wanted to contribute,

Maran Hagaon Ch

Yeshuos come via Kupat H


she shouted, “Fifteen hundred shekels!” The moment the words were out of her mouth, she heard a shout behind her, a longed-for shout that brought with it a world of relief: It’s going up! The values had finally begun to rise. The little girl’s life had been spared. Life? Death? Tzedakah saves lives! There’s nothing new about that. And when tzedakah is given to an organization where everything is aboveboard – you see yeshuos. When the people in charge are of the caliber of Rabi Chanina ben Taradyon, you witness miracles.

Tel: 0527627537

Lost & Found An esteemed talmid chacham from Bnei Brak “lost” a certain line from the sefer Chazon Ish. He knew that the line wasn’t where one might expect it to be; it appeared in an altogether different spot. An entire scholarly edifice he had built with much toil was based on that line but when he tried to find it, he had no luck. He searched and hunted and combed through all the Chazon Ish’s sefarim, but the line he needed could not be found. Only someone who has seen a talmid chacham whose entire life is Torah study can understand the feeling. He searched tirelessly over and over again without results. It just wasn’t there! Could it be that the fragment was a figment

of his imagination? Had all his mental efforts been in vain?

I’ll get up at sunrise tomorrow morning, he thought to himself, exhausted after hours of searching. I’ll go to Harav Chaim Kanievsky and ask him. Either he’ll be able to help me right off the bat, and if not – at least he’ll bless me that I find it. But before he fell asleep, he thought to himself, Why should I trouble Harav Kanievsky? There’s always Kupat Ha’ir… He wasn’t lazy. Perhaps it was the chance of finding the line now, rather than waiting the eternity of the few hours between the middle of the night and sunrise, that motivated him to get out of bed. He contributed NIS 18 to Kupat Ha’ir and picked up the sefer once more. He opened it up and there, right in front of him, was the passage he needed.

Tel: 03-6198537 Yeshuos? Undoubtedly. Not merely yeshuos but borderline miracles. But not for nothing does Hashem perform miracles for us. If we perform yeshuos for his children, he performs yeshuos for us… may we be worthy. May we be worthy of bringing light and joy and yeshuos into the homes of our needy brethren, our flesh and blood… And may we be worthy, also, of witnessing yeshuos in all areas. Maran Hagaon Harav Chaim Kanievsky, shlit”a: Yeshuos come through a contribution to Kupat Ha’ir, which is run with integrity.” Maran Hagaon Harav Chaim Kanievsky, shlit”a: Hakadosh Baruch Hu sends yeshuos through a contribution to Kupat Ha’ir so that the worthy paupers will have what to eat.”

n Chaim Kanievsky Shlit" Shlit"a

Ha’ir, which is managed honestly


Chanukah i

It’s so nice to walk through the streets on Chaukah night: wherever you look, pure flames sparkle brightly, warming and illuminating the heart. We just need, to withdraw for a moment from the hullabaloo of our noisy lives in order to appreciate the miracle of how light overcame the darkness. The beautiful spiritual music that burst forth from tens of thousands of Leviyim who were once again able to stand on the duchan resonates inside us, singing songs of powerful gratitude to Hashem and melodies of tearful longing for the rebuilding of the Beis Hamikdash very, very soon.

And they’re children, too. Their outlook on life lacks the far-reaching quality of an adult’s. They want things “now” and they’re learning, in the school of hard knocks, that some people’s desires are filled immediately and presented to them on silver platters while their own minimal desires are dashed against cold, hard rocks. They’re coming to the conclusion that life is unfair. No one is at their side to stroke their cheeks and explain that the world is like a wheel and everyone has his ups and downs; that the day might come when they’ll be able to give to others. There’s no one to listen to the questions choking up their throats or to help them bear the ongoing burden.

But behind some of the windows where these menorahs stand, in stark contrast to the light and purity spilling from them, But the money that came in people are huddling against from our last appeal, filling the cold in clothing that the tired gabba’im with does little to warm them. satisfaction and affording Behind these windows them the strength to go people hide their desperate on with their chilling work hunger. Their stomachs – that money has been are still rumbling from swallowed up completely. the inadequate lunch they They have to face families ate hours earlier when they whose desperation screams smell our puffy dougnuts, filled with delicious to the very heavens and yet there is no money apricot jam and sprinkled with confectioners with which to help them. A gabbai who gave sugar… and they very nearly go mad. a family 2000 shekels to buy bread and milk, And all this – assuming they have an Ima. And if allowing them to feel like respectable human there’s no Ima, either because she was taken to a beings, knows that it is impossible – impossible better world or because she left them and their – to reduce that sum to 1000 shekels. “Over my Abba or because she’s sick and moaning in pain dead body will you do that to them,” someone on a hard hospital bed – then they don’t even have said. The bitterness of his words expresses the feelings of all those involved in this mitzvah. the pleasure of dreaming of better days ahead.


in Distress But if the gabba’im don’t cut the support, they won’t be able to give others - and the blood of others is just as red as theirs and maybe even redder. So what do you do? What? There’s nothing we can do, other than tell you these stories, a few spoonfuls from an ocean of pain and distress, and let you decide. It’s your money; you tell us what to do with it. You tell us whom should we save and whom we should leave by the wayside. You tell us whom to abandon and whom to return to the land of the living.

“I want my Ima” Once there was a little boy, a cute little boy in a well to do family who had everything he needed to have a happy childhood - a loving Ima, a devoted Abba, good-hearted brothers and sisters. Suddenly, a black cloud enveloped the little boy’s house and his heart contracted with pain and fear. Ima was sick. Ima was sick! Suddenly, all the little things in his life became so trivial. There was no one to caress his cheek, no one to ask his teacher how he was in class. Abba and Ima were busy with matters of life and death. Neither of them was home. They went from doctor to doctor and came home drained and empty. The shadow of death peeked through the window in the little boy’s home. The days became months and the seasons changed. There were ups and downs, treatments and trips abroad. The little boy’s Abba couldn’t hold on to his steady job; he just did odds and ends here and there. Financial hardship entered the house from the back

door and gnawed at the children’s last bit of strength. No one gave that aspect a thought what with the little boy’s Ima hovering between life and death. No one explained to the children what was going on. They saw the fear on the adults’ faces and the furrows of pain around their eyes. All less-than-urgent human needs were pushed aside. And so a little boy stands near the gate of his kindergarten. It’s one o’clock p.m. Mothers and young girls come to pick up the children. Yanky’s Ima!” our little boy announces. “Hello, Shimmy’s Ima,” he calls to another mother.

“Yossi’s mother’s here,” he exclaims and suddenly, his cheerful voice stops short. From afar he sees a woman that reminds him of his mother… she has the same kerchief and her walk is similar, too. But as she draws near, his eyes grow dark. It’s not his Ima. He flops onto the stone ledge of the sandbox and sobs bitterly. “I want my Ima,” he sobs. “How come my Ima never comes?” But Ima doesn’t come. Not to him, not to his older brother in pre-1A, not with his almost- b a r mitzvah brother to buy a new suit and hat. The


months turned into years and the children grew up like that, on their own. The older they grew, the more they understood and the more frightened they became. They watched their mother suffering, hurting, dying out like a candle. How much can a child’s heart bear? The situation kept deteriorating until it was clear there was no hope. Finally, one day, they all went to see Ima in the sterile-smelling hospital. On her deathbed, whiter than the white hospital sheet, Ima kissed each of them one last time. And then the house was completely destroyed. At this point, all the children were old enough to sit shiva. They mourned their tragedy; the hole that was ripped in their hearts; the childhood that seemed like a long lost dream. After a while, Abba remarried. He wanted his new wife to be a mother to his children. He hoped to begin a new life. His new wife had children of her own, so the two families had to fuse, to find the path to harmony, to build a new home out of two fractured worlds.

But then But then a horrific accident took place and their father was severely hurt. The agony began anew. The years of hardship, the mourning, the renewed hope, the new house they were trying to build… it was all gone. Abba is no longer the same person. Now his new wife must support his family and hers and care for a confused, sick man. She must be both father and mother to children who are not her own. Destruction. Ruin. Piercing distress. There’s no money for anything. The poverty is crushing. There is no way to find relief. There is no money for medicine. A once-beautiful family smashed to smithereens. The pain is inestimable.

Now they stand near the menorah. Sometimes Abba lights the candles; sometimes he doesn’t. His wife chokes back her tears. The children crowd around, avoiding each other’s eyes. Soon they’ll go their own separate ways. They can’t, they can’t bear the terrible hardship in their own house while their upstairs neighbors sing happily and the neighbors across the hall host a party and the ones downstairs play dreidel. There’s a different family who doesn’t even have a window next to which to light a menorah.

“Ima, don’t cry” For years on end, she suffered in silence, never enjoying a moment’s happiness. Her entire life was one of suffering, pain, tears and despair. One day, her husband ran away and disappeared, leaving her an agunah with five small children. Somehow, drained and empty, trampled and beaten, she tried to rehabilitate her life. She struggled to earn a living, to be father and mother to her children, to tend to their tender, hurt souls, to inject some happiness into their dark lives. She invested all her efforts, drawing strength from she knew not where. Then suddenly, one day, she was thrown out of her apartment and into the street. Their apartment had been confiscated due to huge debts she hadn’t known existed. Painful regards from her husband… She felt stabbed in the heart, so deeply that she couldn’t go on anymore. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She hadn’t the strength to start all over again, to look for a solution, a way out, to beg. All she could do was cry great shuddering sobs. Another family destroyed.


Her daughter sat on the pavement, her eyes wide with disbelief. Just like that? On the street? The trusting soul deep inside her was betrayed. Her hard life had forced her to grow up quickly, had stolen her childhood, had robbed her of the joy of life most children take for granted. But Ima had always been strong and protective, She’d padded the bumps in her life and caressed the red pinch marks. Now Ima was sitting on a crate and crying, crying, crying until she had no more strength left to cry. Her little brother approached their mother and touched her arm, hugging her tightly in fear and resting his head on her shoulder. But she continued crying, sinking into a sea of suffering so big and so awful she could not lift her head. “Ima, don’t cry,” her little brother pleaded. The three of them wept together – the little boy, the girl, their mother. The bitter sobs reverberated through the air, tearing at passersby’s heart. People tried to do something, to find a temporary place for her to stay, to find an empty apartment. Apartment owners heard the tragic tale but were afraid to let her in: what if she wouldn’t be able to pay? Someone, the mother of eight children, invited her up to her house. Her children would crowd into one room and give the other to the unfortunate family for the time being. How much suffering has this worthy bas Yisrael endured? How much more will she still have to endure? So many homes are waiting to be rebuilt them. And we can. We can’t bring the dead back to life or heal the sick. We can’t always patch together broken families. But we can always – in every situation – make a house feel like a home.

Sea of suffered A pretty tablecloth on the table, eggs and vegetables in the refrigerator, chicken for Shabos waiting in the freezer. Decent clothing, comfortable shoes, paid tuition,

steady electricity and water – and we have a home. The house is so small it can barely be called that. There’s a tiny bedroom for the parents, a children’s bedroom that doubles as the dining room, a kitchenette and one hallway where a table is set up for dinner every day. It’s very crowded. The crowding causes fights because no one has any privacy and everyone keeps bumping into everyone else. There’s no place for a kid to put down his knapsack or stash the marbles he got from his rebbi for being on his best behavior. Tensions run high. A short while passes and the tiny area of their apartment seems to the children like a palace, a real palace. If only they could go back to the way things were! A period of darkness descends on the small, cramped household: one of the children is hospitalized. His parents are at his side, returning home blearyeyed and weepy. They barely have the strength to exchange a few words with the other children who have waited so long to see them. Then the child returns home. He looks so skinny and pale. He actually seems to have shrunk in height. He has to go back to the hospital for treatment three times a week. His stay at home doesn’t last long. Soon he must be hospitalized again, this time for months and months. His immune system has grown so weak that it would be dangerous for him to stay at home. The house suddenly seems so empty without him. Its as if a hole was torn The children huddle near the walls; even fighting loses its appeal. But one day the parents come home with renewed hope. The doctors have said that if the sick child is given a room of his own, he’ll be allowed home. It would be terribly dangerous if he were to catch a bug from one of his siblings. He wants so badly to come home. He feels so sad


and lonely in the hospital. But where will the parents put the others to sleep? The hallway becomes the children’s bedroom. A number of mattresses are stacked upright against the wall. At night they’ll spread them on the floor. The one and only room goes to the sick child. All the others crowd into the pathetic hallway. Now their original apartment seems like a palace. If only they could have it back… And children are children. They look with envy at the “big room” that was taken from them. And the sick child? He watches wistfully as his sisters and brothers play. If only he could join them… His parents keep him behind “glass doors,” with good reason. The children sleeping in such close proximity to one another constantly catch one another’s bugs. Every germ and virus finds its way from one to another. Great care is necessary. May Hashem have mercy… A small child with terrifying disease, enough to understand that his future is in jeopardy. He sits home, feeling guilty for stealing his siblings’ living space, unable to participate in family activities and feeling utterly alone.

a

serious and he is big

How long can a small boy, a pathetic neshamah, be alone? How long can he do nothing all day but dwell on his affliction, his situation? The parents are struggling to bring home food. The children are struggling with crowded conditions. The sick child is struggling with isolation… and it’s threatening to defeat him. He buries his face in his pillow and prays for

death. For death! He can’t go on anymore. His tears have dried up but his heart is completely crushed. Crushed. A ten-year-old boy who doesn’t feel like living anymore. Right now, the walls are still standing and supporting the ceiling. Another home. But how much longer can it last? How much longer can the fledglings remain inside the small, cramped, gloomy house without looking for greener pastures in alien places, Rachmana litzlan? How much longer can the parents bear the distress, the pain, the hardship, the crowding – and remain parents who are able to give of themselves to their children? Destruction

is imminent. imminent.

Very

Can we allow a heimishe family to fall apart like that, to collapse upon its innocent inhabitants? In this case, too, despite the suffering decreed for this family from On High, we have a role to play. Here, too, we can go in and work wonders. So many times we ask Hashem to send us yeshuos, big and small. This is our chance to repay all that He does for us – by doing our best for these families. We have the power to help. We are commanded to help. And maybe, maybe in the merit of this great mitzvah, we will be blessed with a truly great yeshuah? One of the children is a fourteen-year-old girl.


There’s no one to look after her. She has no warm figure in her life - only suffering and tears aplenty. And worst of all, everything is empty. Empty. The refrigerator’s empty. The pantry is empty. Her drawer is empty. She doesn’t have three shekels to chip in for a gift for her Bnos leader and her friends are resentful. She doesn’t have money to pay for a trip; her friends pity her. She doesn’t have a uniform blouse to change to now that the one she has got a pen stain on it. Now everyone knows she has only one blouse… the stain gives her away. She’s all of fourteen. She hasn’t yet the tools to cope with life’s hardships. She doesn’t yet see things in the proper perspective. Everyone’s out to get her. Her mother expects her to be mature. Her father wants her to wait on him with a tissue and his slippers, a cup of coffee and the newspaper. He sends her to buy medication. He takes his pain out on her and then has such a haunted look in his eyes. There’s no one for her to talk to, no shoulder to cry on, no one to confide in. The world has turned its back on her. One day, she sits down at the desk in her room and writes a letter. She sobs as she writes and the tears smear the ink on the paper and erase some of the letters. She bites her lip and forces herself to stop crying. She describes how hard her life is, how bitter, how awful. And then, when the letter is complete – she doesn’t have anyone to give it to. Should she give it to her suffering mother? To her handicapped, frustrated father? To her siblings, who have been adversely affected by the situation and no longer act like siblings? She places the letter under her pillow and reads it every night anew along with krias Shema. She reads it to Hashem and weeps, reads it and suffers, reads it with a heart filled with pain. She reads it silently to herself, with only Hashem as witness to her pain. Will Kupat Ha’ir be able to buy her an outfit and bring some light and warmth to her home to thaw her frozen heart? If you were there, wouldn’t you come to the poor agunah’s aid and find her a place to live with her children? If you were there, wouldn’t you do your best to help? Wouldn’t you talk to a neighbor who has an apartment to rent, help her transfer her bundles, take the children in for supper

until the family finds a place to settle? Kupat Ha’ir, your messenger, was there in your place. They did what needed to be done. They used the money you contributed last time to pay three months’ advance rent to a landlord. With the contribution you send this time, they’ll pay a little bit more so the poor woman won’t live in fear of being evicted again. With the contribution you send in response to this appeal, they’ll make the house livable and ask a neighboring family to keep an eye out to make sure they have enough to live decently. They suffered so many years of hardship – now, in your merit, their life will finally be a little bit easier. And that girl who wrote the letter and cries over it every night? Kupat Ha’ir helps her family and many others in similar positions. They send someone to be there for the children, to listen to them, to care for them. We so badly wanted a calm Chanukah with sizzling latkes and happy tunes but we got a brochure filled with tzaros, so many tzaros. We didn’t mean to ruin your appetite, but we need know where we are, what kind of a world we live in, so that


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ys at the Kosel a D 0 4 r fo l e it v K The Name and Mothers Name Request Name and Mothers Name Request Name and Mothers Name Request By a minyan of outstanding talmidei chachamim (Minimum $120 per name) By an outstanding talmid chacham (Minimum $120 for 3 names)

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y a r p l il w , a t" li h s r, o d a h dolei e g e th , h a k u n a h C s o Z n O h. a k u n a h C s o Z e r fo e b in e for all the names that com

Please daven on my behalf for: ‫נחת מהילדים‬

Nachas from children ‫זרע של קיימא‬

For children ‫רפואה שלמה‬

For a refuah sheleima (speedy recovery) ‫זיווג הגון‬

For zivug hagun (worthy mate) ‫פרנסה‬

Parnassah (livelihood) with ease

Please fill in your Hebrew name and mother’s Hebrew name

Urgent requests are immediately forwarded to the home of the Gedolei Hador

How do I donate to Kupat Hair? your donation in the enclosed your donation to the Rabbonim in envelope. 3 Send your area (see list on Envelope). 1 Send Call the 24 Hour Tzeddakah Hotline Send your donation to: at Shmuel Berenbaum 4 Rabbi 2Fax: 1795 East 7th Street, (donation by credit card)

1-866-221-9352

1888-633-2188

Email: info@kupathairusa.org Brooklyn, N.Y.11223 Please make checks payable to: American Friends of Kupat Ha'ir

Montreal: Rabbi Y. C. Wenger Shlita, 2227 Goyer Avenue, Montreal Quebec H3S 1H1 In Send your donation to: Toronto: Rabbi M. M. Lowy Shlita, 240 Carmichael, Toronto Ontario M5M 2x4 Canada Please make checks payable to: Canadian Friends of Kupat Ha'ir

1-866-221-9352

24 Hour Tzeddakah hotline For all information or to receive a pushka call 1-800-233-2188 Our office number in Israel: 3-671-6994


‫ה ליכט צינדן‬ ‫ערן די גדולי‬ ‫ליט״א פאר‬ ‫ת העיר״‬ ‫מרן הגר“ש הלוי וואזנר שליט“א‬

‫מרן הגרמ“י ליפקוביץ שליט“א‬

‫ה‬ ‫ח‬ ‫נ‬ ‫ו‬ ‫כ‬ ‫ה‬ ‫ו‬ ‫ל‬ ‫ע‬ ‫ר‬ ‫״‬ ‫ח‬ ‫ט‬ ‫ב‬ ‫ת‬ ‫ג‪.‬‬ ‫אשרי אדם שנותן לת"ח‬ ‫הנצרכים יותר בחנוכה‬ ‫ויזכה בזה להון ועושר‬ ‫בביתו וצדקתו עומד לעד‪.‬‬

‫כ“ק מרן האדמו“ר מנאראל זצוק“ל‬

‫)מספר מועד לכל חי מהגר"ח פלאג"י זצ"ל (‬

‫ד‪.‬‬

‫ימים אלו הם מסוגלים‬ ‫מאד בנתינת הצדקה‬ ‫וביחוד ללומדי תורה‬ ‫להחזיקם‪.‬‬ ‫)יסוד ושורש העבודה(‬

‫כ“ק מרן האדמו“ר מביאלא שליט“א‬

‫כ“ק מרן האדמו“ר מטשרנוביל שליט“א‬


‫נאך חנוכה ל‬ ‫באשטייערן‬ ‫הדור שליט‬ ‫״קופת ה‬ ‫כ“ק מרן האדמו“ר מויז‘ניץ שליט“א‬

‫מרן הגראי“ל שטיינמן שליט“א‬

‫ס דר‬

‫הצדקה לימי הח‬

‫א‪.‬‬

‫זה הדרך ישכון אור באופן‬ ‫סדר הצדקה של חנוכה‪:‬‬ ‫יפריש פרוטות פרוטות‬ ‫ויתחלקו לת"ח‪ ...‬ויתן‬ ‫בכל שמונה ימים צדקה‬ ‫לעניים‪.‬‬

‫כ“ק מרן האדמו“ר מבעלזא שליט“א‬

‫ב‪.‬‬

‫אשרי אדם שומע ובער“ח‬ ‫טבת יפריש מעות‬ ‫לצדקה‪.‬‬

‫מרן הגר“ח קנייבסקי שליט“א‬

‫‪v‬כ“ק מרן האדמו“ר מלעלוב שליט“א‬


‫מ‬ ‫ר‬ ‫ן‬ ‫פ‬ ‫ו‬ ‫ס‬ ‫ק‬ ‫ה‬ ‫ד‬ ‫ו‬ ‫ר‬ ‫ב‬ ‫ע‬ ‫ל‬ ‫"‬

‫ש‬ ‫ב‬ ‫ט‬ ‫ה‬ ‫ל‬ ‫ו‬ ‫י‬ ‫"‬ ‫ה‬ ‫ג‬ ‫א‬ ‫ו‬ ‫ן‬ ‫ה‬ ‫אדיר‬

‫ר‬ ‫ב‬ ‫י‬ ‫ש‬ ‫מ‬ ‫ו‬ ‫א‬ ‫ל‬ ‫ה‬ ‫ל‬ ‫ו‬ ‫י‬ ‫ו‬ ‫ו‬ ‫א‬ ‫ז‬ ‫נ‬ ‫ע‬ ‫ר‬ ‫ב‬ ‫ש‬ ‫א‬ ‫ל‬ ‫י‬ ‫ש‬ ‫ט‬ ‫י‬ ‫י‬ ‫ט"א‬ ‫ע‬ ‫ר‬ ‫ט‬ ‫פ‬ ‫א‬ ‫ר‬ ‫״‬ ‫ק‬ ‫ו‬ ‫פ‬ ‫ת‬ ‫ה‬ ‫ע‬ ‫י‬ ‫ר‬ ‫״‬ ‫נאך‬ ‫ח‬ ‫נ‬ ‫ו‬ ‫כ‬ ‫ה‬ ‫ל‬ ‫י‬ ‫כ‬ ‫ט‬ ‫צ‬ ‫ינדן‬

‫בזכות העושים והמעשים לשם שמים‬ ‫נתברך מפעל חסד ורחום ״קופת העיר"‬ ‫בסיעתא דשמיא לכן באתי לחזק מעשה‬ ‫הטוב רבת הזכות‬ ‫וכל הנוטל חלק במצוה הזאת יענהו ה׳ מן‬ ‫השמים באורך ימים ושנות חיים וכט״ס‬ ‫ואין ישראל נגאלים אלא בזכות הצדקה‬ ‫כאז"ל‬ ‫מצפה לרחמי ה׳‬

‫ד‬ ‫י‬ ‫פ‬ ‫י‬ ‫י‬ ‫ע‬ ‫ר‬ ‫ד‬ ‫י‬ ‫ג‬ ‫ע‬ ‫ב‬ ‫ר‬ ‫י‬ ‫ו‬ ‫רבי שמואל הלוי ו ו פון מרן הגאון‬ ‫ואזנער שליט״א‬


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