He Thought He Had Rosh Hashanah All Figured Out

As told by Rabbi Tuvia Silberstrom of Yerushalayim

In Kfar Chabad there was a chossid called Reb Moshe Slonim, a fiery and devoted Chossid who dedicated himself, heart and soul, to the network of Chabad schools across Eretz Yisroel – Oholei Yosef Yitzchok.

One Erev Rosh Hashanah, Reb Moshe decided that this year he was going to devote himself properly to avodas hatefillah. He wanted to daven the maariv of Rosh Hashanah at length, with hisbonenus and dveikus, as he had been taught during his yeshivah years by the famed mashpia Reb Shlomo Chaim Kesselman.

Before Yom Tov, he made a request at home: “This year, please don’t invite any guests. I may come home very late from davening, perhaps around eleven o’clock at night.”

After the main minyan finished Maariv and everyone headed home, Reb Moshe settled into a corner of the shul alongside several other ovdim and began preparing himself to daven. He immersed himself in a maamar in Likkutei Torah, delving into the inner avodah of Rosh Hashanah and kabbalas hamalchus as explained in Chassidus.

Barely fifteen minutes had passed when he suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder. Who could possibly need him now, just as he was preparing to stand before the King on Rosh Hashanah?

“Moshe!” It was the senior chossid Reb Berel Kesselman. “They need you.” When Reb Moshe asked what he meant, Reb Berel explained that two unexpected guests had arrived and someone needed to take care of them.

A non-frum couple had set out by car that night, intending to drive from Rishon LeZion to Ramle. Somewhere along the way, they became lost and mistakenly drove into Kfar Chabad. Spotting a Chassidishe yungerman returning from shul, they stopped him and asked for directions.

“We were invited for a Yom Tov meal in Ramle. How do we get there?” Instead of giving them directions, the yungerman suggested, “You can have a Yom Tov seudah right here. It’s a shame to continue driving on Yom Tov.”

The couple agreed and parked their car near the shul, but by then it was already late, and most of the community had gone home. Reb Berel noticed what was happening and hurried into the beis midrash to find someone who could take them in. His eyes immediately fell on his nephew, Reb Moshe Slonim.

For Reb Moshe, it was a real struggle. On the one hand, of course the guests needed to be welcomed. Here was an opportunity to prevent further chillul Yom Tov and bring two Yidden into a warm Chassidishe atmosphere.

On the other hand, he had so badly wanted to daven. He had prepared himself for an entire Rosh Hashanah avodah, to finally daven at length with hisbonenus. What was he supposed to do?

And then it struck him: What is Rosh Hashanah all about? Hachtaras Hamelech, crowning Hashem as King. And what does kabbalas hamalchus mean? It means that a person doesn’t do what he wants, even when what he wants is something lofty and holy.

Instead, he asked himself one simple question: What does the Eibershter want from me, here and now?

As the Alter Rebbe writes in Tanya, perek Mem Alef: “V’hu gam hu mekabel alav malchuso, lihiyos Melech alav, ul’avdo v’la’asos retzono b’chol minei avodas eved,” And he, too, accepts His kingship upon himself, that He should be King over him, and to serve Him and carry out His will with every form of a servant’s service.

In an instant, Reb Moshe saw the entire situation differently. “I didn’t go looking for these people,” he thought. “They came to me. This must be the avodah that Hashem wants from me now.”

He quickly davened Maariv. It wasn’t the Rosh Hashanah Maariv he had planned. In fact, it was hardly different from an ordinary Wednesday-night Maariv, far from the arichus and hisbonenus he had been looking forward to.

Reb Moshe brought the guests home, where there wasn’t even enough food prepared for them, since the family had specifically not expected guests. Somehow they managed, sat down to a proper Yom Tov seudah, and Reb Moshe farbrenged with them for as long as he could.

By the time the seudah ended, it was already two o’clock in the morning, and he convinced them that rather than drive back to Rishon Letzion on Yom Tov, they should stay overnight in his home.

The following morning, Reb Moshe brought his guests to shul, where they joined the davening and heard tekios. Afterward, he brought them home again for the Yom Tov seudah. But what was he supposed to do with them for the rest of the afternoon? With little choice, Reb Moshe took them on a walk through Kfar Chabad.

Picture the scene: It’s Rosh Hashanah afternoon, when most of the residents of Kfar Chabad are sitting in shul saying Tehillim, while Reb Moshe Slonim, a serious Chossid and oved, is strolling around the village with a non-frum couple.

He shows them the chicken coops and cowsheds, walks with them past the beehives and through the esrog orchards, with only one thing on his mind: to make these two Yidden feel comfortable and welcome, and to give them an enjoyable Yom Tov experience in a warm, frum environment.

The fruits of that Rosh Hashanah became evident some time later. The couple became baalei teshuvah and moved to a frum community, where they raised a frum family of children and grandchildren.

Adapted from the A Chassidishe Farbengen publication