I didn't consider myself a
Lubavitcher, but I lived in Crown Heights for a short time after I got married.
I would attend the Rebbe’s farbrengens from time to time, but
my relationship was always from a distance.
I mention this because of what
happened later on.
Three years after we married, my
wife and I moved away to Silver Spring, Maryland, where I attended the
University of Maryland. I received a PhD in psychology and began working as a
psychologist in the local school system. Besides this, I used to give classes
in Talmud – one on Shabbos afternoon for the general public, and one on Tuesday
night for a smaller group who wanted to learn on a deeper level.
I was in my early thirties, so I
suppose I was too young for a midlife crisis – or maybe I arrived at a midlife
crisis earlier than most people – but around this time, I was torn with a
number of very pressing questions:
Should I stay in Torah learning,
or should I continue in psychology? And if so, how should I further my career?
Should I move into private psychotherapy work or accept an offer from one of
the county social service organizations in the area? Also, I wasn't sure what
was best for my children in terms of educational options in Silver Spring.
In addition to all these
dilemmas, like everybody else I guess, I had my own questions of faith and
trust in God, as well as some philosophical questions. I was in a state of
uncertainty.
All these questions had me
depressed, and I was unsure what to do or where to go. I spoke to various close
friends, and one of them – a Chabad chosid – suggested that I
visit the Rebbe.
And so it was that in February of
1971 I called the Rebbe.
The Rebbe’s secretary answered
the phone in English, with a simple, “Hello, who’s this?”
Now as I was talking to the
secretary, in the background – I recognized his voice from the farbrengens I
had attended – the Rebbe was asking in Yiddish, “Who’s calling?”
I replied, “A Yid fun
Maryland – A Jew from Maryland.”
I told the secretary that I have
many questions which I would like to discuss with the Rebbe – questions about
what direction my life should take, questions regarding my career, questions of
faith… I explained that I was at a very uncertain stage in my life and I didn’t
know where to turn.
I spoke in English and, as I was
talking, the Rebbe’s secretary was repeating and paraphrasing my words in
Yiddish – I imagine he was doing this so that the Rebbe should hear.
And then I heard the Rebbe say in
the background, in Yiddish: “Tell him that there is a Jew who lives in Maryland
that he can speak to. Der yid hayst Veinreb – his name is
Weinreb.”
The secretary asked me, “Did you
hear what the Rebbe said?”
Now, I couldn’t believe my ears.
I knew for sure I had not given the secretary my name, but the Rebbe had just
said my name! I was taken aback and I wanted to hear it again. So when the
secretary asked whether I heard, I said no.
The secretary repeated the
Rebbe’s words to me: “S’iz doh a Yid in Maryland mit vemen er zol
redden. Zayn numen iz Veinreb.”
So I replied, “But my name
is Weinreb!”
And then I heard the Rebbe say, “Oib
azoi,zol er visen zayn az amol darf men reden tzu zich – If
that’s the case, then he should know that, sometimes, one needs to speak to
himself.”
The secretary also seemed stunned
by what was taking place. He just stopped, and I could hear his breathing. And
then he said to me, “The Rebbe said that sometimes it’s best to talk to
yourself. Isn’t your name Weinreb?”
“Yes, my name is Weinreb, but
maybe the Rebbe means a different Weinreb.”
“No, the Rebbe’s saying ‘Talk to
Weinreb,’ and he explained that you must to talk to yourself.”
I thanked him very much, and the
call ended with that.
I believe I understood what the
Rebbe was trying to tell me. If I could put words in his mouth, he was saying,
“You’re looking for answers outside yourself. You’re not a kid anymore, you’re
a man. You are thirty years old, you are a father, you are a teacher of Torah.
You have to have more self-confidence. It’s time to grow up and listen to
yourself. Don’t be so dependent on others. Trust yourself.”
And from that point on I became
much more decisive. I think up to that time I had a tendency to be very
ambivalent, I was not a risk-taker, I was a procrastinator when it came to
making decisions. But from that point on, I became decisive.
The Rebbe could have picked up
the phone and told me what to do, but I wouldn't necessarily have listened to
what he told me, and I wouldn't have accepted it in the same way I accepted
this. Like many people, I suppose I had a natural resistance to being told by
others what to do, and I think the Rebbe had insight to know that it was better
if I heard the answer from myself than if I heard the answer from him.
That the Rebbe understood that, I
think, was part of his great wisdom.
A few months after that
life-changing phone call, there came an opportunity to express my gratitude to
the Rebbe in person.I had come to visit my in-laws in Brooklyn and my
father-in-law encouraged me to go to the Rebbe to thank him. The Rebbe was
blessing people in a small public audience, and I went over to him and said,
“My name is Weinreb and I’m from Maryland.” And he gave me a big smile of
recognition.
I saw the Rebbe many times, and I
saw many pictures of him, but that particular smile meant a lot for me.
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