NEVER TO FORGET

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NEVER TO FORGET

Harav Y. Reuven Rubin Shlita

I write from New York City, the centre of so much that is part of the brilliant tapestry of the Jewish experience. In the list of my previous addresses, Brooklyn New York takes pride of place in shaping my younger days, both as where I am today, and what I dreamed of for tomorrow. It is a loud place, clattering with strange vowels created by the dialectic magic of its previous generations of millions of vibrant citizenries. Trotting its streets were immigrants from the whole of humanity, each group adding to the colourful kaleidoscope of the city, each adding their unique take on its language. I grew up with this unique manner of speaking, and although living in Britain for over forty years, and having spoken to and in front of royalty, I still savour the expressive tongue of my native streets and have resisted losing my accent. (Besides, in England everyone is conscious of one’s accent, and my Brooklyn twang gains attention, no small matter for a public speaker)

I am visiting here to celebrate the chasanah of my oldest great granddaughter, and in so doing, I am making the most of the chance to visit and share many of my old haunts. Time moves on, things change, yet, somethings are always the same. Brooklyn still has that brash vision for hope and it was this power of growth that was the back story of my younger days. What was once a Hiemisha quarter peopled by pockets of Hiemisha Yidden who were mostly from the Shaaris Hapleta, has become a place of what seems to be wall to wall shtieblach of all hues, with shops filled with vibrant customers pushing in front of any line they can stumble across. The plates of food groan with portion sizes that a minyan of Brits couldn’t finish, and the clatter of voices are alive with a rich sense of love for life.

All this in a world that is at war on several fronts.  I have sweet great grandchildren who must eat and sleep in Bnai Brak’s safe rooms, every one of us trembles at the thought of what the next moment of madness from our enemies can wreak, yet in Brooklyn things roll on, shops thrive, children travel in their yellow school buses and shtieblach create new and ever-expanding programs for Torah learning. This is the miscellany of Torah life today, the grandeur of vibrant Torah communities mixed with life of loud golus that screams for help. I visited the storied 13th Avenue for a small shopping foray. After all, I’m always in need of tzitzis and koppelach, and where better to shop than the shops of Boro Park. The traffic is impossible to describe, double parking is the rigour and horns scream at any minor offence. But watch those Yidden running hither and there, the fire in their eyes as they run for the next Minyan, the shmoozers on the corner solving the thickest of problems, listen to their love for their Rebbe’s, how much they cherish their Shuls. I stare in wonder at all the community service vehicles that drive about. Every chesed, every need is catered for by volunteers, yes, the horns honk, but we make way for those in need. I am here for a simcha and my heart is carried away by these wondrous Yidden who are the fruits of my Rebbe’s dreams. I will be a celebrant at a great grandchild’s wedding, something we as children never thought possible. The Eibishter has caressed our generation which was built on the ashes of the Churban. Now we must look forwards to a future of positive chessed grown through the efforts of those heroes who created that which we cherish today. Yes, Klall Yisroel is facing difficult times, the war cloud hovering over Eretz Yisroel is filled with dark fire, here in chutz leoretz hate for our people spills over into the hearts of our enemies, yet, we make simchas, we look beyond the challenges and hold onto the Eibishters eternal love.

When one leaves Brooklyn, one will see a roadside sign it reads:

“Leaving Brooklyn

FUHGEDDABOUDIT”

It’s that old twang I spoke about earlier, forget about it can mean, forget about all the nonsense and pain of Golus, Hashem is with you, He brings us closer to His singularity despite whatever the world throws at us. Forget about their foibles and hate We build Torah Mosdos, we seek to do chessed, we wear our strange clothing with pride, we kvel over are wondrous Kinderlach…. everything else, well Fuhgeddaboudit!