Editor’s Note: Av 19 (Friday, August 11) is Rebbetzin Esther Jungreis’s first yahrzeit.
My Rebbetzin, Esther bas Avraham HaLevi Jungreis of blessed memory, truly loved every Jew. She illuminated the world with her chachmah (wisdom), chesed (kindness), and ahavas Torah (love of Torah). She was my Torah ima, my Torah mother. She gave me my Jewish life, a life filled to overflowing with meaning and purpose.
I actually met the Rebbetzin through her book The Committed Life, a gift from Chaya Friedman, at whose home I experienced my first Shabbos. It was at the Friedman home – as I watched Chaya kindle her Shabbos candles, cover her eyes, and whisper into the flames – that something inside me stirred. It was while sitting at the Friedmans’ Shabbos table that my own flame was ignited and my journey home commenced.
I stayed up all night devouring The Committed Life. I wondered about the author. I felt as though she were speaking directly to me. Never having had any connection to what I was reading, I knew my sole mission now was to find her and discover what other mysteries she might reveal to me.
Rebbetzin Jungreis taught Torah classes on Tuesday nights at Congregation Kehilath Jershurun in Manhattan. I went to listen to her speak. Her soft voice sounded like that of a hummingbird singing a sacred song. I could not get enough. In the depths of my soul that initial flame became a fire raging inside me. All week I would count the days until I could hear her words of Torah again.
Many months passed and one night the Rebbetzin said something I will never forget. It tipped the scales for me. She spoke about sports teams and their fans and then she asked a very penetrating question:
“If every stadium were filled to capacity with only fans and there were no players on the field, would there be a game?”
That night I joined the team – Team Torah. At that class I chose to become a player and cease being just a fan. The Rebbetzin made it so tantalizing. She would say, “Taste it – it’s good – you will see!”
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My husband, Gershon ben Baruch Moshe of blessed memory, was not on board yet so I would drop little hints. When we went out for dinner I ordered pasta primavera instead of my usual shrimp scampi. At breakfast, in lieu of my favorite bacon, egg, and cheese sandwich my choice became a plain omelet. And when it came to our weekly Saturday shopping sprees, I suggested we look in the store windows and leave our wallets at home.
I knew that what we were giving up, what we were leaving behind, was miniscule in comparison to the infinite blessings that awaited us in the place where we were about to go. It was a place bound by a myriad of laws and restrictions – and yet a place where my soul felt safe, secure, free, and at peace. The Rebbetzin’s teachings were calling me to grow and embrace the Torah I was learning.
It was not easy in the beginning. My husband and I had many challenging conversations. He joined me at some classes, and at his own pace he became increasingly observant. We made our kitchen kosher and stopped shopping on Shabbos. A rabbi came to Gershon’s office and my husband was now putting on tefillin, making berachos, and learning the weekly parshah.
We were progressing when tragedy suddenly struck. My husband was diagnosed with ALS, a progressive, degenerative, fatal disease. The Rebbetzin was with us throughout his long, debilitating illness, as were her children and grandchildren. She held me close at his funeral. She never left my side.
Later, as I got to know her better, I discovered I was one of thousands whom she counseled, consoled, and held close. The Rebbetzin was not only “the Rebbetzin” but also a spiritual mother to countless souls.
* * * * *
After my husband left this world I traveled near and far and to hear the Rebbetzin speak, at Shabbatons and other events. My friend Michelle and I were at the Palm Beach Synagogue one Shabbos with the Rebbetzin. As we were leaving the hotel Sunday morning, we saw her and Barbara Janov, who was executive director of Hineni, the Rebbetzin’s renowned outreach organization, making arrangements to pay a shiva call. They were going to be menachem avel a dear friend of Hineni.
In fact, the Rebbetzin’s husband, Rabbi Meshulem Jungreis, zt”l, had performed the person’s wedding 30 years before. I offered to drive Barbara and the Rebbetzin.
While we were in the car Barbara received a call from representatives of an organization in Mexico City who wanted the Rebbetzin to come to their community and speak. Instinctively, the words “I’ve never been to Mexico City!” flew out of my mouth.
The Rebbetzin turned to me and asked, “Would you like to come with me?” I almost fainted. Go with the Rebbetzin? How amazing would that be?
While in Mexico City I was blown away by the warmth of the Jewish community and in awe of how the Rebbetzin transcended language, culture, and diverse backgrounds. Over time I came to appreciate and understand that it was because her message was timeless. She spoke only words of Torah with chesed, emunah, and ahavah. Wherever she went, she drew everyone close with Hashem’s words.
The Rebbetzin exemplified verse 97 in Psalm 119. King David declares, “Oh how I love Your Torah! All day long it is my conversation. Each of your commandments makes me wiser than my enemies, for it is ever with me.”
Rabbi Samson Raphael Hirsch says that one who evaluates every aspect of his life by Torah standards frees himself from the shackles of selfishness and is able to perceive things with true clarity and wisdom. That was the essence of the Rebbetzin. She had a direct line to HaKadosh Baruch Hu.
No matter the situation, no matter how challenging the circumstances, she was steadfast in her knowledge that His Torah is our inheritance. She had the ability to turn darkness into light. She was a constant source of strength to me and the multitudes of others she counseled, taught, and brought back to Torah. The beautiful line from Eishes Chayil perfectly describes the Rebbetzin – “She opens her mouth with wisdom, and a lesson of kindness is on her tongue.”
The Rebbetzin was famous for her berachos. When she first gave me blessings I would say, “Thank you, Rebbetzin.” That was when she taught me the meaning of “amen.” Every time we parted she would say, “Chayale, kum a’heir, I have to give you a berachah.” I would reply, “Rebbetzin, you already gave me a berachah.” And she would say, “Chayale, zisseh kind, you can never have too many berachos.”
If only she were here today to give me one more berachah.
* * * * *
Every summer the Rebbetzin led a Hineni group on a heritage tour. It was a dream of mine to go with her. A year after my husband was nifter I joined them. Going to Israel for the first time is unforgettable but to experience it with the Rebbetzin was beyond anything I could have imaged. We dubbed the trip “Prayers and Tears” because at all the holy sites and at every kever of the Kedoshim our tefillos ascended on High while our tears flowed down our cheeks, soaking our siddurs and books of Tehillim.
As the tour was winding down I told the Rebbetzin I needed to stay in Israel longer. I asked her what I should do. She called Rabbi Shurin at Midreshet Rachel V’Chaya in Yerushalayim and introduced us. Rabbi Shurin accepted me into his seminary, where I was immersed in intensive learning.
Once again my Torah ima had taken care of me as if I were her own daughter. I have tremendous hakaras hatov to her and treasure that time as a crucial turning point in my avodas Hashem. In Israel my soul soared and upon my return to New York my feet were more firmly planted than ever on the path of Torah.
Our next trip was to Budapest. I will never forget what happened one night when the Rebbetzin was speaking to a large crowd. Having immigrated from Hungary to America at a very young age after her incarceration at Bergen Belsen, the Rebbetzin was self-conscious about using her native tongue during her speech. She felt her vocabulary would be perceived as elementary, so a translator was hired for the event.
But almost immediately after she began speaking, the Rebbetzin realized her message was not being transmitted as she intended. She put aside her personal concerns, switched gears, and began speaking Hungarian. The crowd went wild. They loved it. They stood up and applauded. Once again the Rebbetzin’s timeless words of Torah transcended every other consideration. It was an extraordinary thing to witness.
From Budapest we went to Eretz Yisrael where she spoke day and night in different cities and venues. We stayed until the wee hours of the morning while the Rebbetzin signed books, gave berachos, dispensed advice, and wiped away the tears of her beloved Jewish children. The Rebbetzin embodied mesiras nefesh – self-sacrifice. She would not leave until every person had an opportunity to unburden his or her soul and receive a blessing.
Our travels took us all over the world and also to many organizations here in America. Wherever we went I felt so blessed to be a part of the Rebbetzin’s world. People would stop me and ask, “Are you the Rebbetzin’s daughter?” I would smile and say, “I’m her Torah daughter.” After many years of perplexed looks, I began answering the question with a simple “yes.” Because the reality is that I am her daughter – her spiritual daughter.
Several years ago the Rebbetzin was asked to speak at a shul a few blocks from my home. The shul accommodated guests at a hotel in the neighborhood. I thought it might be more comfortable for her to stay at my home so I extended an invitation. Motzaei Shabbos, after the Rebbetzin had left, I found little notes all around saying, “My dearest Chayale, thank you!” and “My most precious Chayale, I love you!”
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Aside from her numerous speaking engagements, the Rebbetzin was a prolific writer. She authored several books and her column appeared every week for more than 50 years in The Jewish Press. (The paper has continued the tradition by publishing her timeless columns posthumously).
During one of our trips her assistant was in the business center of the hotel typing up a long handwritten article. She was about to print it when suddenly everything disappeared from the screen. Fortunately, I travel with my notebook computer and asked the Rebbetzin if she would like to dictate her article while I typed as she spoke. This was to became a weekly ritual and a small way for me to give something back to the Rebbetzin for everything she had given me.
* * * * *
The Rebbetzin’s departure has left a deep and painful void in the hearts and minds of all who knew her. She will forever be my guiding light. I hear her soft voice beckoning me to live my life as a Torah Jew. I see her beautiful face and taste her sweet words of Torah teaching me where to go and how to get there.
The last year of her life was extremely painful. The Rebbetzin suffered greatly. Her personal tests were formidable. Never once, though, did I see her lose it. She never complained. She would simply say, “Hashem, I accept Your Judgment with love.”
Despite all her pain she continued to draw me near. She said, “This should be a kapparah, an atonement, for me, my children, and my grandchildren.” Upon leaving her side to go home, I would give her a kiss and walk toward the door. And before I was even halfway there she would say, “Kum a’heir Chayale, I want to give you a berachah.”
I would walk back to her, bend down, and bow my head. She would raise her hands to bless me, whispering into my ear, “Don’t ever forget. You are my daughter!”
I carry the Rebbetzin’s blessings with me always. I am a beneficiary of her chesed and I know she is looking down from Shamayim and smiling at what she accomplished while she sojourned in this world.
I also pray that I gave – and continue to give – my Torah ima much nachas as she taught me not only about berachos but, more importantly, about “being a berachah to others.”
The Rebbetzin left behind untold thousands whom she brought to a life of joyful Torah observance. With the most profound gratitude I say to my beloved Torah mother, your soul shall forever be bound to my soul. Your Torah daughter loves you deeply and misses you terribly.
May the neshamah of Rebbetzin Esther bas Avraham HaLevi Jungreis of blessed memory continue to ascend in the Heavens and may we be zocheh – may we merit – to live our lives with all the blessings she never stopped bestowing on us.