The Apter's Journey to Lizhensk

In the city of Zavanitz there were smugglers who brought goods across without paying the levied taxes, and the Shabbos was desecrated openly. The Apta Rav, Rav Avrohom Yehoshua Heschel (the Ohev Yisrael), was greatly upset by their behavior and rebuked them sharply.

Rav Shmelka, the son of Rav Moshe Leib of Sassov, wished to travel and visit the Apter. But since he came from Zavanitz, he worried that the Apter would ask where he was from and, on hearing that he was from Zavanitz, would not let him even cross his threshold. His friends advised him to ignore any questions about where he was from and simply to introduce himself as Rav Moshe Leib Sassover's son.

And so, when the shamash asked him who he was, he said that he was the son of the Sassover. When the Apter heard this, he ran over to Reb Shmelka and greeted him warmly, shaking his hand with both of his. He lit candles in his honor, put on finer clothes in his honor, and seated him in a special chair reserved for honored guests, brushing aside all protests with the words, “Why, you are my Rebbe's son.”

While Rav Shmelka sat there, the Apter said to him, “Let me tell you a story about when I was the Rav of Kolbesov. I was a young man then, an avreich, and I lived in the house set aside for the Rav. The house was very large, and my small family occupied only one wing. The winters were freezing, and my salary was barely enough to feed us, certainly not enough to squander on heating such a large home. So although it was furnished, we lived in only one wing.

“I sat and learned lishma, sincerely for the sake of Heaven, and I had plenty of free time, since it was a small city with few affairs that needed my attention or intervention. I often studied together with my son, and as we were immersed in our learning, nothing disturbed us. We were not Chassidim, and since our primary avoda was Torah study, we even looked upon their ways with disdain and counted ourselves among the Misnagdim (opponents of Chassidus).

“One day two anonymous travelers passed by and knocked at my window, asking if I had room for guests. ‘Why, yes,’ I answered, ‘the entire second wing is at your disposal.’

“They unloaded their luggage and made themselves at home. I noticed that they seemed to be holy individuals, and whatever conversations they had among themselves always sounded lofty and concerned Avodas Hashem. Yet I was too busy with my studies to take their ‘idle chatter’ seriously. I thought that my derech (path) was correct, and I shrugged them off.

“They were my guests for about three days, and on the third day, as they prepared to continue on their way, they came to take their customary leave of me. One of them began to engage me in conversation and to tell me a story. I was greatly troubled, since they were detracting from my learning and from my sincere Torah study, yet it would have been rude simply to interrupt him, and so I listened as politely as I could. When he finished the first story, he began to tell me another one. At this point my hair stood on end. I was so disturbed at this waste of my precious time. When he finished, the other guest began to tell me a tale as well, and the pain I felt was death itself. Finally they finished the third story and left on their way.

“About three months passed, and I found that I understood the meaning of the first story and that I had needed it. Three more months passed, and I understood my need for the second story, and three months after that, for the third. I was shocked to see how they had been able to understand what I would need and what would befall me over the course of that entire year.

“I understood that this must have been through Ruach HaKodesh, and I hoped that Hashem would grant me another opportunity to meet these two holy individuals. Two years later I looked up out of the window and saw them both traveling past in their carriage. I could not miss such an opportunity. I ran outside to catch their attention. I was in such a rush that I did not put on my coat or my spodik (the fur hat worn by important personages such as the town Rav), and I ran in my shirt after their coach, chasing it across town. When I finally caught up with them near the inn, I asked them, between gasps for breath, where they were headed. ‘We are headed to Lizhensk, to the Rebbe Reb Elimelech,’ they explained.

“‘Can I join you?’ I asked.

“They agreed on the condition that I go to the market while they davened and get some provisions for the journey, such as rolls, bagels and butter. I forgot myself completely, town Rav or not, and in just my shirt I went and bought the bread and butter. When I returned, they had finished their tefillos and told me to hurry and get ready. I quickly ran home, got dressed, grabbed my tallis and tefillin and jumped into their carriage.

“‘We are taking you to the Rebbe Elimelech,’ they explained, ‘since we can tell that your soul's root is bound to his.’

“And so they did. The Rebbe Elimelech became my mentor, and I became his talmid. Those two holy tzaddikim were your father, Rav Moshe Leib Sassover, and Rav Levi Yitzchok of Berditchev.”

Afterward, Rav Moshe Leib would often say that he should receive shidduch gelt, a broker's fee, for making the match between the Apter and the Rebbe Elimelech. To this the Berditchever responded, “And I should get double your fee, since I also brought the Rebbe Reb Elimelech and the Rebbe Reb Zusha to the Maggid of Mezritch.”