B"H
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| Odel Miriam Cunin on the Lap of her mother Bluma Leah Loksen OBM with Rabbi Mordechai Loksen OBM and family |
Today is the 28th of Av.
On this day in 1942, the Nazis murdered approximately 13,000 Jews in Rostov. Among them was my great-aunt, Miriam, after whom my mother Odel Miriam, is named.
And among them was my great-great-grandfather, Nachman.
Nachman was a scholar, a learned man. He was also a baker. But not just any baker. He had the tremendous merit of baking for the Fifth Lubavitcher Rebbe, the Rebbe Rashab.
And on this day, the Nazis took this holy Jew into the street.
They tied his beard to a rope, attached the other end to a wagon, and dragged him until his holy soul left his body. For most of my life, I never even knew this story. I only learned it about ten years ago, when I was already in my mid-forties. And yet, since learning it, it has become one of those stories that somehow anchors me. Because think about it.
They murdered Nachman because he was a Jew.
They were not only trying to murder a man. They were trying to murder a people. They wanted there to be no more Nachmans. No more Jewish children. No more Shabbat candles. No more Torah. No more Mezuzahs. No more Jews.
And yet here we are. Today, scattered around the world, there are Boruch Hashem, many, many, living descendants of R' Nachman.
Jews lighting Shabbat candles.
Jews putting on Tefillin.
Jews saying Kaddish.
Jews learning Torah.
Jews giving Tzedakah.
Jews raising Jewish children.
Jews bringing light into this world.
They managed to kill his body.
But the flame?
The flame they could not touch.
In fact, it multiplied.
And that is perhaps one of the greatest miracles of the Jewish people. Every generation has had someone who thought they could extinguish us. And somehow, from the very place they tried to create darkness, more light emerged.
And that light was never meant only for us.
The Torah tells us that the Jewish people are here to be a light unto the nations, to bring more G-dliness, more goodness, more kindness, more morality, more holiness into the entire world.
So today, on the very date when Nachman’s life was so brutally taken, I cannot help but imagine what his Neshama sees from Above. All those children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, Mitzvot and light.
I can only imagine the nachas. And I have no doubt that however much darkness surrounded him on that day in the streets of Rostov, today his soul is shining with a light that those murderers could never have imagined.
So today I will try to add a little more. An extra prayer. An extra Mitzvah. An extra act of kindness. A little more Jewish light.
And I will pray that very soon we will finally see the world that Nachman lived for, the world that generations of Jews prayed for, struggled for, and gave their lives for—a world filled completely with Divine light, goodness and peace, with the coming of Moshiach, speedily in our days.
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