By Rabbi Yosef C. Golding
A few weeks ago ago, on Simchas Torah at Yeshiva Chofetz Chaim in Queens, a 12-year-old boy, bedecked with a large Talis over his head, ascended the Bimah and began to belt out the pizmon/song of Ein Adir KaHashem, during the fourth hakafah. His voice was strong, on tune, and the entire shul joined him, joyously.
But some of the people watching and listening had tears rolling down their faces…
(Excerpted from Faith Amid the Flames: The Story of Reb Yosef Friedenson, The Kiddush HaShem He Witnessed and Created; ArtScroll.
Adapted from Heroes of Faith, by Rabbi Dovid Hoffman
In a small shul in Monsey, Mr. Friedenson gets up to dance for his hakafah, and while he holds the Sefer Torah tightly in his arms, his mind takes him back to another time and another place. This is when he prepares himself for what can only be described as the “highlight” of the entire day. Midway between the fourth and fifth hakafah, the lively group suddenly quiets down and awaits “the story.” Mr. Friedenson stands up at the bimah and in his inimitable manner recounts a fascinating and inspiring incident that occurred to him in the Starachowitz concentration camp, many years earlier.
“I will never forget that year. We were in the smithy shop preparing to work for the day, but for some reason, we had not been assigned any work to do. This was unusual but we were not complaining. Somebody remembered that today was Simchas Torah, and we all began singing the appropriate songs. Then, someone started the niggun, ‘Ain adir k’Hashem, v’ain baruch k’ben Amram.’ (There is none as powerful as Hashem, there is none as blessed as [Moshe] the son of Amram). This is a traditional niggun that is usually sung when we dance with the Torah on Simchas Torah.
“Anyway, we were singing the part of this niggun that says, ‘Ain z’chiyah k’Torah, v’ain chachameha k’Yisrael.’ (There is no merit like the Torah, there are no men of wisdom like those in [Klal] Yisroel), when suddenly the camp commandant, a somewhat civil German by the name of Bruno Pape, walked into the room. He looked at us singing and he seemed to become angry. ‘What is this? Why are you singing? Do you have it so good here that you can sing?’ Everybody stopped quickly. We were frightened. Pape was relatively civil – but he was still a German.
“‘Friedenson,’ Pape called to me, ‘tell me, what are you singing?’ I stepped forward, obviously chosen to be the spokesperson of the group. I explained that today was our holiday and that we were praying in song, a song pertaining to the holiday.
“‘You were praying or you were singing?’ asked Pape. ‘Were you praying for the downfall of the Fuhrer? Is that what your song is about? Translate the words for me.’ I did as he asked and I explained the meaning of the words to him. When I came to the part that there are no men of wisdom like the scholars of Israel, he derisively exclaimed, ‘Are you Jews so wise? Du glaube in das? Do you believe in this?’”
Mr. Friedenson paused for a moment to wipe his brow. The strain was tremendous, but the look on the faces of the men and children as they listened to his words was worth all the effort. Like a lion, he gathered up his strength and continued.
“I remember, there was a boy of seventeen or eighteen, just a Jewish boy, not even from our religious group. He jumped up and said in German, ‘Yes, Herr Commandant, I believe! Ich glaube!’ Pape then began asking each of us in turn if we also believed in this. He went from person to person, starting with me. You have to understand that we were not afraid to say the truth to him, because we knew he was good to us. Each and every person in the shop said, ‘Ich glaube, Yes! We believe.’
“Pape looked at us and excitedly gestured with both arms while exclaiming, ‘You Jews are amazing. I don’t know how the Fuhrer will ever be able to defeat you!’ and he walked away. It was an incredible moment of pride and faith.”
Mr. Friedenson finished the story and broke out into a huge smile. “How right he was and how fortunate we are today to be able to learn Torah in re-established centers of Torah and Chassidus throughout the world. We must never be afraid and we must always believe. Nu, what can I say … ‘Aiyn z’chiyah k’Torah v’ain chachameha k’Yisrael ……’”
…Back in Kew Gardens Hills, just a few weeks ago, the reason for the tears was because this 12-year-old singing at the Bimah was the great grandson of Reb Yosef Friedenson, exactly 79 years after the above story. The tears were tears of joy.
Yes RBSH”O, ICH GLAUBE! I BELIEVE!
[From the Monsey Mevaser]
