Emuna Daily

The children gathered around the tree and commented to each other how high it was, and how exciting it would be to climb to the top. They opted to play a game to see who could climb to the top of the tree without falling. Among the participating children was five-year-old Menachem Mendel, the future Lubavitcher Rebbe. His mother, Rebbetzin Chana, observed the children as they played.

All the other boys succeeded, at best, to reach halfway up the tree before falling, while Menachem Mendel reached the top.

Later, his mother asked him, “Mendel, how did you succeed to reach the top when the other children failed?”

“It was easy,” answered the child. “The other children kept looking down, and as soon as they realized how high they were, they became dizzy and fell. I, however, looked only upward. When I saw how low I was, I kept going higher and higher until I reached the top.” ~  Adapted from Yimei Melech as quoted in Chicken Soup to Warm the Neshama

“Very few people were aware of this particular dimension of Shlomo Carlebach’s work,” reflects Rabbi Tzvi Mandel, spiritual leader of Brooklyn’s Khal Bnei Israel, “but he routinely visited inmates – both Jewish and non-Jewish – in prisons all over the world. Wherever he happened to be, he tried to visit local prisoners, whether they were confined in a huge state penitentiary or humble village jail.   Occasionally, he would encounter a Jew or two, but more often than not he wouldn’t.

“Who has compassion upon prison inmates? There are squadrons of well wishers visiting the sick and lonely in hospitals, in nursing homes, and senior citizen centers.  But when was the last time you heard about Good Samaritans organizing to visit prison inmates? They are among the most reviled, abandoned, and forlorn people in the world. But Shlomo Carlebach didn’t forget them, and he had compassion.”

“About two years ago, I had the privilege of accompanying Shlomo to a prison in upstate New York.  This time he had actually been invited by the Jewish chaplain, who asked that he perform a Chanukah concert for the Jewish inmates there.  There weren’t many there, not even a minyan (quorum needed for the prayer services), only about 8. There was no payment involved, but Shlomo accepted the invitation without a moment’s hesitation. It was a shlep; three hours each way. “No problem!” said Shlomo cheerfully.

“The concert was a huge success, and Shlomo made the event into a real Chanukah celebration, but that was only the beginning. When the Chanukah chagiga (party) was over, Shlomo turned to the chaplain and said ‘Please…I would like to visit the rest of the inmates here. Could you get permission?’

“Shlomo went into every cell, where he hugged, kissed, and talked with each inmate. Then he went into the dining room, into the recreation room, into the kitchen, into every possible nook and cranny of the prison where he was permitted to go, not satisfied until he had ferreted out every prisoner, making certain that no one had been overlooked. Finally, he was ready to leave, and we were walking down the hall when a big, black, burly inmate with a scarred, pitted face started running after us. ‘Rabbi, Rabbi,’ he shouted. ‘Please wait.’ we stopped immediately and Shlomo turned to beam at him.  ‘Yes, my holy friend?’  he inquired sweetly. The man began to shift in embarrassment, almost as if he regretted his impulsive act, and then, finally gathering coverage, blurted out, I just loved that hug you gave me before! Would you mind giving me another one?  Shlomo gave him the most radiant smile in the world, and then tenderly enfolded him in his arms. They stood clasped together for a long time.

“Finally, the inmate broke away and heaved the deepest sigh in the world. ‘Oh Rabbi,’ he said. ‘No one, no one ever hugged me like that before.’  And then tears began to stream down his face.

“‘You know, Rabbi,’ he sobbed in remorse, ‘if only someone would have hugged me like that ten years ago, I surely wouldn’t be here in this prison today.'” ~ Holy Brother