My Rebbe

The Rebbe was a leader of the world. A visionary trailblazer. A prolific teacher of Torah. The architect of a global movement. An inspiration to millions. His days and nights were filled with the greatest responsibilities, the biggest questions, and the weight of an entire generation.

And yet, to each person, the Rebbe was not only “the Rebbe.”

He was “my Rebbe.”

That is perhaps one of the most extraordinary things about the Rebbe. With all that he carried, he made every individual feel completely seen. In the early years, after long days of work, Torah study, and leadership, the Rebbe would meet people through the night, one by one. In later years, even into his nineties, he would stand for hours greeting thousands who came for a blessing, guidance, encouragement, or strength.

Those who merited a moment with the Rebbe describe the same feeling: in that moment, nothing else existed. The Rebbe was fully present.

It did not matter if the person before him was a world leader, a great scholar, or someone carrying a personal burden. No issue was too small. No person was insignificant. The Rebbe changed the world one mitzvah at a time, one person at a time.

And that is why he was “my Rebbe” to so many.

There are many moments that I reflect on today on the Rebbe’s Yartzeit, some captured in the pictures in this post. One memory from my childhood has stayed with me all these years.

I was a young child visiting 770, standing in the entranceway as the Rebbe walked from his office to the small shul for the Mincha prayer. The Rebbe would always give coins to the children gathered, making them his emissaries to give tzedakah.

The Rebbe handed me a coin, and I turned toward the large tzedakah box on the wall. It had two slots, one on top and one lower down on the side for children. But I had decided that I was a “big boy,” and I was determined to put the coin into the top slot.

I stretched. I reached. I tried.

And the Rebbe waited.

What felt like an eternity passed until someone finally lifted me up so I could place the coin where I had intended. The Rebbe showed no impatience. No rush. No frustration.

He smiled.

Perhaps he saw more than a child struggling to reach a box. Perhaps he saw a child reaching beyond what seemed possible.

In his letters and interactions regarding people with special abilities, decades before inclusion became part of the public conversation, the Rebbe consistently emphasized that we must never define a person by limitations. Every soul comes into this world with a unique mission and unique abilities. No one else, from the beginning of creation until today, can accomplish exactly what that soul was sent here to do.

That belief is at the heart of Friendship Circle and LifeTown.

To see what the Rebbe saw, possibility where others may see limits, greatness where others may see challenges, and a Divine mission within every single person.

The Rebbe believed in each of us. Not only as a generation. Not only as a community. But personally, individually, completely.

That is why he is “my Rebbe.”

And that is why, on this Yartzeit, the greatest tribute we can offer is to believe in ourselves and in one another the way the Rebbe believes in us.

To keep reaching beyond what seems possible today.

And to help create the reality of tomorrow.