Jewish women talking about Torah and the lived experience of our Judaism.
Something You Can Smell || with Shaindy Jacobson
today’s episode is sponsored by Sara Morris, in loving memory of her mother, Tzipporah bas Aryeh Halevi and her father, Dovid ben Moshe Yehushua.
today’s episode is also dedicated by an anonymous sponsor to all those searching for their soulmates and to her parents whose birthdays are in May.
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Tonia Chazanow: All right. Such a pleasure to be here with you. If you can begin just by introducing yourself. Tell us your name. Tell us a little bit about yourself. What do you do? What do you like to do? What are you interested in?
Shaindy Jacobson: Okay. Thank you so much for having me on here. It's an honor, and a privilege, and a pleasure to be part of this. I am Shaindy Jacobson. I am a mother, a grandmother, a wife. And I currently hold the title of the Director of The Rosh Chodesh Society. That is the women's division of the George Rohr Jewish Learning Institute.
And it's one of the things that I feel very, very strongly about. I love my job. I obviously love my family very much. And I’m excited every day to wake up and to do and face whatever the day holds for me.
Tonia: Nice. Can you share just for a second what you do at Rosh Chodesh Society? Because I feel like it gives context to who you are.
Shaindy: Sure. The Rohr Jewish Learning Institute is a place where a tremendous amount of content is created to share with Jewish people all over the world. And we have a special division. It's called the Rosh Chodesh Society. Because we create monthly classes for Jewish women all over the world to allow them to access what is really their birthright and their heritage. And that is to give them the ability, no matter where they come from, no matter what their stage in life is. If they have a Jewish background, if they have a zero Jewish background, it makes no difference. We want to give every Jewish woman the ability to be able to access torah study in many different ways, shapes and forms, and on many different levels. This is what we do. It's a labor of love. We create curricula to share with Jewish women everywhere.
Tonia: Nice. Oh, it's amazing. And I’ve seen you in action. And you are just such a queen. I’m really excited to have you here today. I’m excited to hear from you on your own life, life perspective, and what you have learned from Chassidus. If you can start just by sharing what our topic is and what you've kind of learned about it, before we talk about what makes it particularly meaningful to you personally.
Shaindy: Sure. So what I want to speak about a little bit today is about the concept of sensitivity.
And when I think about this, I think that it could really fit into many different places under certain banners in the torah, under kabbalistic banners, under chassidic banners, because it's something that's really all-encompassing.
But I think I would like to share the following, because one of the most fascinating things is that the first time I saw this, I was shown it by someone. And it had a lot of meaning to me. But the most interesting thing is that, every day, as I get older, and from a young girl, I became a young married woman, and then a mother, and then a teacher along the way. And did different things. Interacted with many different people. And then a grandmother. And today, in whatever I do, it actually keeps on gaining more and more meaning to me. And I see how it really works in all different ways.
Many years ago, I think I was in high school maybe, and I was working on some project that I was given to do. And I was looking for a very unique angle. I wanted to do something that would be original and different. And it was about different things. How can we take something from chassidic teachings and apply it to Jewish women?
And my father showed me something that I found fascinating. And this is really the basis of what I’m speaking about. I believe it was 1939, and the previous Lubavitcher Rebbe, Rebbe Yosef Yitzchak Schneersohn was traveling, and he went to visit the Jewish community in Riga, Latvia.
And while he was there, he did something that was unprecedented for great leaders in those years. And generally, almost in all years. And he didn't only ask to meet with the men of the communities. But he made a request that he would like to meet with the women.
And this was unbelievable. And people came out from everywhere, because he was the Rebbe of the generation. And he asked to meet with the women. And there were all kinds of women over there. There were women that were what we would call – And I really dislike labels. But for the sake of people understanding, there were people that would consider themselves very religious, orthodox, ultra-orthodox, however you want to call it. People that were not like that at all. He describes there were people that were covering their hair. There were people that were not at all covering their hair. There was everything in between.
One of the things that really did bring all these people together was that most of them, all of them probably, spoke Yiddish, because that was their mother tongue. And he addressed them. And we don't have time this evening to speak about the entire address, which is fascinating. And I urge anybody who is listening to this to go ahead and read it and learn it, because your life will never be the same.
Tonia: Wow!
Shaindy: But the Rebbe spoke there about one point – About many things. But the one point that I want to make is – Part of his talk was about building the Jewish home. And he spoke about the fact that it says that G-d said to the Jewish people while they were traveling in the desert, V’asu Li Mikdash V’shachanti B’socham. And you shall make for Me a sanctuary, and I shall dwell within them. And we all know that, grammatically, it should have said, "And I shall dwell within it." But we all know that the commentaries all say unanimously that this means G-d meant that this was not only for that generation who was building the traveling prototype, which was the Mishkan. The traveling prototype of the holy temple. It was the Mishkan, the sanctuary. But it was for everybody. It was a directive for every person in all generations that each of us is obligated to build a sanctuary wherever we find ourselves for G-d. In my home, my home has to be a place where G-d, Hashem can dwell. My office, my business. So on and so forth.
And the Rebbe went on to explain how this is something that's a job for the entire family. But he said, the leader of this is the Jewish woman. And he said that we learned this because we know that when G-d said he wants everyone to be part of it, the women didn't wait for anybody. They immediately went home. And they decided to bring their special valuables to help build this Mishkan.
And the Torah enumerates, what did they bring? They brought their own jewelry. And they brought four pieces of jewelry. And in the following order; the earring, the nose ring, the fingering, and an armband. Some say it was a bracelet. And others say it was a band that was worn on the upper arm.
And the one point I want to make about this is that the Rebbe goes through each of these pieces of jewelry. And he says that in order to build a proper Jewish home – And this also means, in order to build a proper relationship of any kind, you need to have these four items of jewelry. And each one is symbolic of another particular building block.
And the second one, which is the nose ring, which was at that time a very fashionable piece of jewelry. The previous Rebbe describes that it's worn on the nose. And he believes that this is symbolic of the sense of smell, which is a very fleeting thing. It's sort of tangible and sort of intangible. Because when you smell an aroma, it's there. It's so there. But you can't really capture it with a radio receiver, or a camera lens. And it's fleeting. It's here one moment, and the next moment it's gone.
He says, "And that is to me – That symbolizes the concept of sensitivity." What is sensitivity? It is also something. You cannot hold it. You cannot touch it. You cannot really take lessons in sensitivity. You cannot teach someone this. How do you teach it to them? You make sure that they hang around people that have it. And then they will see it. They will be part of it.
This is the one piece of jewelry that the previous Rebbe brings out a lesson from. And, of course, there is so much more to be said about this. But I think this is one of at least my favorite places where you see how great a role this plays in our lives.
Tonia: Wow. That is such a powerful visual, smell – The reason, I think, is because we could understand loving another person. We could understand not being mean to someone. But sensitivity is going the extra mile. Really going the extra mile to smell out if there is a sensitivity there that we could be more gentle towards. And you can't teach it. It's only something that you can learn how to sense. But you can't teach it in that way that you could teach the rest of the Torah.
Shaindy: Correct. And that's why the Rebbe says there that that is why it's the job of everyone. But it's particularly the job of the woman of the home to sniff out what kind of atmosphere she is creating. To sniff out what kind of friends her children are with. What are they doing? And we all know that, in order to be successful at creating a solid relationship, sensitivity is really the glue that holds it together.
Tonia: I have a question for you, because we live in a culture that can be hypersensitive sometimes. And I’m wondering what your take is. Do we do trigger warnings? Should we kind of just shut our mouths on sensitive topics, in order to be sensitive to people who have lost? What do you think?
Shaindy: I think that's an excellent question. And I could tell you that it's a very real thing. It's a very real question. And I think that, in Judaism, the Torah way, I don't think it is to ignore things. I think that the Torah teaches us that we have to learn how to face things and how to address them. But there is a way to do so.
For example, I think that people should be vigilant and should be sensitive to all kinds of situations. Because as a human being, I think that we always have to think about what would I want. I don't want to be hurt. I have to have at least enough compassion and empathy to know that if I don't want to be hurt in a certain way, I don't want somebody else to be hurt.
Now, it happens, and this is because we're human. And we are fallible. Had I not experienced a certain thing, I may not think about it as much as somebody that did experience it. But I think the Torah expects me to think about it and to know that there are all kinds of circumstances. For example, does that mean that we cannot say the word Mother's Day? I don't think that a healthy individual, even somebody that has been hurt in a certain way in the area that is related to this day, expects society not to speak about it, or not to celebrate, or not to commemorate it. I do think that a healthy individual does think that people should be sensitive to them in one way or another.
I’ll give you an example. It used to bother me terribly as a child when they would say things in school like bring a note from your mother for whatever reason. If you didn't come. Just if you were sick. Or could you go on the trip? Whatever.
Now, unfortunately, I lost my mother when I was a little girl. I was seven years old. And I remember thinking to myself, as a little tiny girl, "Why doesn't the teacher say bring a note from your parent? Or bring a note from your mother, or your grandmother, or your mother, or your father?"
I imagine that most people, or everybody else in my class, did not really think about that. But one of the things I could tell you was that children are resilient. And I came home. And I said so to my father. And he sat me down. And he said, "Yes, it's very hurtful and very painful. But you know what? You have to learn to live in this world where people will think of the norm. And that's how they will speak most of the time. But you know what? G-d just gave you a gift. He gave you the ability to be sensitive to people in this area where maybe somebody else cannot be sensitive."
It didn't take away the sadness of the tragedy, but it created a win-win situation where I knew that in my life this may be an opportunity to, so to speak, you can say stick up or whatever. For somebody who is in a similar situation in a nice way.
And I remember, I grew up and I became a teacher myself. And I remember saying to different people that I worked with, we were going to make a mother and daughter team, or whatever it was. I said, "I think you should maybe consider changing the name. Maybe it doesn't have to be called a mother and daughter team. Maybe it could be called mother, daughter and grandmother, or mother and aunt, or however. There are enough words to play around with. And people appreciate when you bring such things to their attention.
I think that if you live through something as a child, when you have children, you're very, very aware of that particular thing. Or if you see something, you're able to help somebody else. And that's, I think – Nobody asks for this. But I think that's the beauty of having experienced it.
Tonia: I love how you said that the Torah doesn't shy away from talking about difficult things. It's like instead of eradicating the word Mother's Day, you can figure out a way of celebrating it while still being sensitive to people who are struggling with the day.
I’m thinking as you're talking, people become so sensitive in the areas where they've struggled. How do we become more sensitive also in the areas where we aren't struggling? Like not just to be focused on our own histories. And therefore, being able to recognize the pain in others. But to be able to recognize pain that we might not have experienced and to be able to figure out how to navigate that, too.
Shaindy: I think that's not only an excellent question, but a beautiful question. Because I think that it's one of the very fundamental teachings of the Torah. We're not that far away from Pesach, the holiday of Passover, that we just experienced. And if we look at what the Torah tells us about this, it tells us that Ger Hayisah. We were strangers ourselves. The Jewish people were strangers in a foreign land.
It uses this expression, and this teaching to tell us that when there is somebody who is a Ger, the same term. That's the Hebrew expression for convert. But why is that? Because perhaps they were a stranger. They were of a different people. And now they have become – They have joined the fold. And how do we look at these people? We are reminded, remember. You, too, were a stranger just like this.
And through the grace of G-d, you are embraced, you are carried to where you belong. Look what you were given. Look who you grew up to be. A strong and beautiful nation with many generations. Embrace these people. Embrace this person exactly the same way. Bring them in. Love them. And I think this is really what the Torah tells us.
When the Torah tells us to do this, between you and me, we know very well. I can't say that I remember being a stranger. Because even though we all experienced the redemption from Egypt, I can't tell you that on a conscious level I remember this. But I think the teaching to me is that just like maybe I had an issue. Maybe I don't remember it.
But just like I’m taught in the Torah that I have to have a certain sensitivity. Yes, even things that I don't remember. Even things that I did not experience. I have to have that amazing empathy for another person who did experience it and really look at it. Try to at least look at it through their lens. And the truth is, if we were able to do that, you could imagine what an amazing world it would be. Because it's very hard to put ourselves in another person's shoes. But if we try to, at least we have that ability to try. Once we try, after that, we can continue trying.
Tonia You mentioned that the Frierdiker Rebbe said that it's connected to the nose ring. Because it's something that you can only learn through smell, like through being around people who practice it and embody it. That's how you learn how to be sensitive.
I’m wondering, who in your life, if there has been a specific situation or maybe a person, that has taught you that sense of smell where you were able to kind of understand the nuances of what it means to be sensitive to someone, even though it's not being demanded of you, even though no one will notice if you aren't. And no one will fault you for it. But you still are able to smell that it's the appropriate thing to do in that moment.
Shaindy: Okay. I’m sure that it's a culmination in life that we all have different experiences. And they shape us. That's the bottom line. That's how we become who we are. And we hope that we can do the same thing for the next generation, etc., etc. And we're always on a journey. We never finish being shaped. That's for sure.
But I could just tell you, in my own personal life, I think that sometimes things happen when you're much younger. And somehow, eventually later on, they start becoming more integrated with your life as an adult.
This is just something that always stands out at me whenever I think about sensitivity, especially since it didn't have to happen. What I’m saying with that is that I was five-years-old. And when we were kids in those years – Today, I know, when kids are five-years-old, they're already going to school for three years. But we didn't go to school until we were five years old. And I am the youngest in my family. We went to kindergarten. And I remember how exciting it was. Everybody made such a big fuss that the baby in the family is finally going to go to school.
And to make a long story short, it was time to go to school. The first day, I still remember how I put on my new little shiny school shoes. And I had my little backpack with whatever you put in there. And my mother walked me to school. And she brought me to school and she introduced me to the teacher. And the teacher asked me a few questions. And she showed me where I’m going to be sitting. And I still remember how I hugged and kissed my mother goodbye. And I remember that I had such a lump in my throat, because I was really never away from her. I couldn't believe that I was doing this. And she left. And the day in school began.
And without all the fanfare and all the details, the bottom line was that there was a little girl sitting in the desk next to me. And every time the teacher turned around for a second, this little girl would either hit me, or kick me, or pinch me, or pull away my crayon, or do something. And I was very, very terrified. And I was very, very shy. And I didn't know what to do.
And in my mind, I thought to myself, "Okay." The teacher had told us that morning that this is what we're going to do. And she gave us the layout of the day. And she had said that at a certain time we're going to go outside to play. I thought to myself, "When we come outside to play, I’ll walk over to the teacher and I’ll whisper to her that this little girl was bothering me." And I thought that was a pretty good plan.
What happened was, though, I made a very terrible discovery for a five-year-old, and that was that this little girl was the teacher's daughter. And in my five-year-old mind, I couldn't figure out how I will tell the teacher about her daughter. I didn't say anything. And I obviously survived the day. And my mother came to pick me up. And she asked me how school was. And I don't know why I said it was great. It was wonderful. And we came home that day. And everybody made such a fuss about my first day of school. But after that, every day, there would be a big argument in the morning. I didn't want to go to school. And until today, I have no idea why I did not want to tell my parents the truth.
And some days I won the battle, and I got to stay home. And some days, I went to school and I was very very scared. She didn't do anything dangerous. But I felt – I guess today maybe it would be called bullied. I don't know.
Anyway, my parents didn't know what was wrong with me. And then something very unusual, amazing happened. It was the beginning of the school year. And in those great years, in honor of a special occasion in the family, the family was able to go and have a private audience, which we called a yechidus with the rebbe.
And one of the reasons was for a wedding, a bar mitzvah. And also, in those years, the head of the family's birthday. And my father's birthday is just around the time of Rosh Hashanah, which is usually around the time of the beginning of the school year. And I remember that we had, literally, a family meeting. That's the only one I ever remembered in my life. And my parents told us that we're going to go into the Rebbe. And that they told us exactly what to do. How to behave. And they said, "You don't talk, unless the Rebbe talks to you, then you answer."
And they told us it's going to be a very, very special monumental occasion. We're going to wear our new holiday clothes. Until today, I remember what I was wearing. That's how special it was.
And I remember that it was the middle of the night. I was very tired. And the only thing I remember is that, suddenly, my father said, "Everybody, in a minute, it's going to be our turn. We're going to go into the Rebbe." Okay. We went into the Rebbe.
And honestly, I don't remember what happened, what they spoke about, except for the very end. At the end, the Rebbe asked each of us children, and we were five siblings, in age order, from the oldest to the youngest, what we had learned in school that day. And each child responded and answered to the Rebbe. Then I was the last one. And the Rebbe said to me, "And what did you learn in school today?" And I became very, very embarrassed, because that was one of the days that I had not gone to school. And I didn't know what to say.
I just looked at the floor. The Rebbe looked at me and he said in Yiddish, "What's the matter? You're embarrassed to tell me?" And I just burst out crying. And at that moment, my father said to the Rebbe, "We don't know what's wrong with her. She does not want to go to school. None of our other children did." Whatever it was.
This was what the Rebbe did. In the middle of the night, with hundreds and hundreds, thousands probably of people waiting to go into him – I was just a little five-year-old girl. Big deal. Children would grow out of their idiosyncrasies, right? The Rebbe did the following. He took both of his hands and he waved them to my parents, and he winked at me, and he said, "Don't worry. Probably one of the other little girls started up with her."
And I remember that we came out, and my father picked me up, and my mother said, "What happened? What happened?" "Don't you know that girl, she hit me, she kicked me, she pinched me." They said, "Why didn't you tell us?" I said, "I couldn't tell you because she was the teacher's daughter." Until today, I don't even know what that means. But, okay. Trust me. As a five-year-old, I did not see anything monumental about the story, because I didn't even begin to understand what transpired.
Many years later, we spoke about the story here and there. We laughed about it in school. We went to school together, all of us, and we always told stories. But I will never forget how one morning one of my children was having a serious meltdown when she decided she was going to school in the middle of the freezing winter. It was right after a big ice storm there was probably six inches of slush on the ground. And she decided she's going to school with navy blue tights and jelly shoes. And I said, "No, you're not." And she said, "Yes, I am." And I said, "No, you're not."
And you could imagine, I was very nervous. It was the morning I had to get to work. Everybody had to go. The bus was honking. And I’m having a screaming match with a five-year-old. And my husband says to me from the other end of the house, "Shaindy, remember what the Rebbe said? Think about it. She's a little girl. You have to be sensitive."
And I remember thinking to myself, "Wow! That was what the Rebbe taught me." He was so sensitive to the heart of a five-year-old child who would have taken her another week, or two, or three and she would have been able to figure – It would have gotten resolved. What would have happened? Nothing terrible. But he stopped for that extra minute to show the sensitivity. And if the Rebbe could do that, what can we learn from that?
Tonia: Wow. That is so powerful. You pinpointed that right there that idea that you probably would have been fine within a few weeks, hopefully. I mean, we don't know. But, essentially, that even if someone could have a thicker skin. And people don't have to be so sensitive. That's the definition of sensitivity, is that just to make someone's heart a little bit more taken care of even if just for a single moment that they feel seen, that they feel taken care of, they feel noticed, that someone is listening and recognizing what they're going through. That's what sensitivity is. It's not a monumental saving of a person. It's just – Easing their heart's burden for a single moment when you just are sensitive enough to notice what they're going through. It's different than doing someone a kindness. It's very different.
Shaindy: Correct. It's different, because it's not a moment of grandeur or anything of that sort. I think it's more of striving to live in that state of being, rather than knowing that tomorrow I’m going to – Somebody comes to my door and they need something, of course, I will do my best to give it to them. And that's a great thing. 100%.
But I think if we look at how the Rebbe stood online for how many hours, how many kinds of people came there? Not everybody was pleasant. The Rebbe would even – Sometimes we're being sensitive, we're not saying anything. But our facial expressions are giving it away. We could roll our eyes. Or we could just do something. It's our body language. Not once. if you look at a million pictures and a thousand videos, the Rebbe gave the exact same respect to every single human being. That is pure sensitivity.
Tonia: It's exactly as you said, that when someone knocks on your door and asks you for something, it's an obvious question of like, "Should I do the right thing or not?" But when it comes to sensitivity, no one expects you to do it. The other person might not even expect you to do it. And you have to train yourself, like you said, to be in that state of being, because it's not really an act that you do for another person. It's a state that you're in. I love how you said that. I think that that's very insightful. That sensitivity is a state that we're in, that we're attuned to what other people are experiencing. And we're not wrapped up only in our own worlds. And to the Rebbe, even a five-year-old child who is nervous to speak is cause for to probe a little deeper and to pay attention to what they're experiencing.
Shaindy: I just want to say one thing, that I think that by no means it's a life struggle. I don't think that we come to some step one day and we say – But it's a constant – But I think that what we learn from chassidus, really, in this respect, is that, what is the difference between a chossid and someone who is not? It’s someone who goes above and beyond the letter of the law. That is really, I think, what the Rebbe taught us. What chassidus teaches us. To try to go above and beyond. Like you said, no one is expecting – You don't have to. You don't have to do this. But life is so much more beautiful for all of us when we all think about this and try to do it.
Tonia: Okay. I’m thinking, can you share advice to anyone listening who wants to kind of up the sensitivity towards people around them in their lives? How can they become more attuned to what others are experiencing? Not to get into anyone else's heads, but just more sensitive?
Shaindy: I think that each of us will find a way to do it that works for our personal selves. But what I want to say about that is something I once heard from somebody who told us that they felt that they were lacking in this area. And they had a correspondence with the Rebbe. And the Rebbe told them that they should go and volunteer in a place where people are less fortunate than them. And observe what's going on there. And volunteer. And immerse themselves there. And look around. And see. Be very aware of what they see. Be very aware. And keep at it. And They will figure out how to make their way in this area.
And I think this is – It's silly for me to say brilliant advice. Because, of course, what the Rebbe said is brilliant advice. But if you think about it, when we take ourselves out of ourselves, and out of what we are used to, and out of our normal circumstances, and we go somewhere where we're not so comfortable, and we don't usually go, and we observe, and then we become a part of it, and we start to realize, A, it gives us the ability to appreciate what we have. B, it makes us aware of what we have, which we often don't really think about, because we have it. So we don't have to think about it too much. We're taught. This is the same concept.
What does health feel like? Good health doesn't feel like anything. We don't think about it. Unfortunately, when something is off, then we are reminded that we're not feeling healthy. And I think it's very sad. But sometimes we don't remember about this whole sensitivity issue until we are in a situation where we were slighted, or even as something very small, and we started to realize.
And the best, best antidote to that is to say, "Okay, this was hurtful to me. Not only will I not allow it to be hurtful to me. But I will make sure that I will never allow this to be hurtful to somebody else." Now, we don't have to wait for something to be hurtful to us. I think it's a matter of everything else. I think, sometimes, when the Rebbe said, "Open up your eyes. There are things that are here. But we just have to open our eyes." Sensitivity is a very sensitive thing. It's one of those things. We have to deliberately look for it. Again, it's not something you could say to somebody, "Read this book." It's becoming aware and finding ways to become aware of it.
Tonia: I love that story that you brought in from the Rebbe. Going to see people who are less fortunate than you. Because it's exactly as you're saying. It's becoming aware of something that's outside of you. Because we kind of live in our own orbits, I mean, it's very easy to live in that automatic state where kind of everything is just revolving around your experience. But that idea of going to see people who are less fortunate than you is just to jolt you out of your experience and see people who are experiencing life so differently. It's such practical advice. Actually, just get out of your head and go and if you can't get yourself into a physical space, then listen to people's stories who are struggling with something just to accustom yourself to that.
I can't let you go without asking you what other personal stories you have had with the Rebbe, where the Rebbe was the champion of this sensitivity that you're describing. Like, a subtle sensitivity that everyone else would have missed and he just somehow always picked up on.
Shaindy: I’ll share something. It's not personal. It didn't happen to me personally. But to me, this is something unbelievable. And I feel like everybody has to know the story, every parent, every teacher, every educator, every camp counselor, because this is something that's an unbelievable lesson.
There was a child in one of our yeshivas. And he was terribly unhappy. And he came home, and his mother saw something was very wrong. The bottom line was that it became very, very obvious. He finally broke down and told her that he was being bullied terribly. Terribly bullied in school she called the school. She called the teachers. She called the principals. And nothing happened. He was still very, very bullied.
She was so distraught. This poor mother didn't know what to do. She was so heartbroken, because she tried to do whatever she could. She wrote a letter to the Rebbe. And she wrote that her child is being bullied in one of the schools. And it's his school. And she doesn't know what to do. She did everything she could. And the child will no longer go to school. And his life is destroyed.
The Rebbe sent a message to his secretary to call the school and tell the school exactly what he heard and to say that he is expecting them to take care of it right this moment. And if he hears otherwise, he will himself walk down to the school and make sure that this is taken care of. One minute, the story's not over.
X amount of weeks later, this boy was having a Bar Mitzvah on shabbos. It was a shabbos that the Rebbe always had a farbrengen that shabbos. Very rarely did he not have a farbrengen on that shabbos. And on that shabbos, everybody was expecting a farbrengen. And the rebbe did not farbreng that shabbos. And later, it came out that the Rebbe said he knew this child was having a Bar Mitzvah that shabbos. And he didn't want to give an excuse to anybody to say that they can't attend this Bar Mitzvah because he is making a farbrengen. He gave up making a farbrengen so that people would go to this boy's Bar Mitzvah. This is a mind-boggling, monumental lesson.
Tonia: Yeah. Wow. And the Rebbe understood, more than we can, how significant a farbrengen was on shabbos.
Shaindy: Exactly. For the Rebbe to give off a farbrengen, we don't even begin to comprehend what that meant.
Tonia: Wow. Oh, wow. That's such a powerful lesson. The lengths we should go in our own lives to be able to really pay attention to what other people are experiencing.
Thank you so much.
Shaindy: Thank you.
Tonia: Thank you.
Shaindy: I feel very honored. Thank you so much for having me.
[END]