I can still remember the Simchas Torah of my youth. It was in Rabbi Goldman’s shul on 10 Mile Rd. I remember being perched on a stack of chairs that were at least 100 feet high, waving my blue and purple flag (you know, the one with the red stick that only made it to the second passuk of Atoh Horaisah). I remember watching the children excitedly ride their father’s shoulders round and round (while I would try guessing whose yarmulke would fall off first). I remember the absolute ecstasy I felt as I was tossed, like, 200 feet in the air while singing to the veracity of Moshe and the Torah that he taught.
In that little shul, we were made to feel like we were the flags being proudly waved – we were the Sifrei Torah being lovingly held and embraced. What a Yom Tov!
But I know it wasn’t only like this at Rabbi Goldman’s shul on 10 Mile Rd – it was like this everywhere. And the truth is, to this day, no matter where you go, Simchas Torah is still very much about the children – and of course that’s the way it should be! All the dancing and singing are done with the deliberate inclusion of children of all ages. They are made to feel like “one of the boys” and respond by singing along and dancing alongside their adult “counterparts.”
We lift our little ones high into the air as we reinforce Torah’s eternal nature in the hearts and minds of both the “thrower” and the “throwee.” We watch as they huddle under the tallaisim for Kol HaNe’arim with awe and anticipation. We look at their angelic faces as we serenade them with a familiar bedtime tune before a cascade of candies and treats sends them happily on their way.
The symbolism is crystal clear: In a world that changes by the hour, Torah remains timeless. We hold the torch now, but soon – soon it will be their turn to carry on the legacy. They are the future. The children are our future.
Rabbi Yehuda Aryeh Leib Goldman, zt’l was someone who understood this very well.
The genuine love Rabbi Goldman had for every Jew, no matter his or her age or affiliation, was obvious to anyone who was fortunate to know him. He taught and inspired thousands of men and women in his lifetime, but nothing gave him more nachas than seeing the involvement and success of their children. He treated each one as if they were his own – and in a way, we really were his children. He made sure to include us in everything that went on in shul, not just on Simchas Torah.
He would sit us at the front of the room with the shul’s only shtenders. He would give us roles according to our strengths. One kid would open and close the peroches to take out the Sefer Torah while another would be chosen as gabbai. One kid would cover and uncover the Sefer Torah in between aliyos while another would perform galilah. The children would set the tables for Kiddush and Shaloshudis and we would be in charge of filling the mayim achronim cup when it came time to bentch.
As soon as I turned thirteen, it was in Rabbi Goldman’s shul that I was encouraged to use my voice to lead the davening. “Yankel’e,” he would say, “I remember your grandfather, Rabbi Brown. You were named after him, you know? He was an Adom Gadol and soon, you will be one, too! Please, daven far the amud for us.”
One incident that took place just after World War II ended sheds some light on who Rabbi Goldman truly was. A yeshiva bochur from Koritz in the Ukraine, he was conscripted by the Soviets at the outset of World War II. Fortunately, he was wounded early in the fighting against the Germans, and was sent far east to Uzbekistan for rehabilitation. It was there that he met his wife, who was from Lithuania. After the War, the concentration camps had been liberated, and Jews were reuniting with their families across Europe. In Lithuania, it was no longer a capital crime to be Jewish so the Goldmans traveled to Vilna to see if any of her relatives had survived.
On Sept. 30, 1945, Rabbi Goldman entered the near-ruin that once was the Great Shul of Vilna. It was Simchas Torah and, in a city that once called itself home to 100,000 Jews, of which 3,000 survived, the shul had been stripped of almost everything, including the Sifrei Torah. Still wearing his Soviet army uniform, he approached a father and his 5-year-old son. The rabbi asked the boy if he was Jewish, then said, “I have traveled thousands of miles without seeing a Jewish child.” Turning to the father he asked, “May I take him as my Sefer Torah?” He then stooped down, lifted the boy like a trophy, and danced around the room with him on his shoulders. In place of dancing while holding the Torah, the soldier danced while holding the boy who, to him and to everyone in the sanctuary, represented the rebirth of the Jewish people.
The Man From Vilna is a song composed and sung by Abie Rotenberg on Journeys, Vol. 4 back in 2003, with lyrics written by both Rotenberg and Mrs. Deborah Chinskey-Wapniak Silbiger. Accompanying Abie on this track is the splendidly blended sound of Lev Tahor (Ari Cukier, Gadi Fuchs and Eli Schwebel), and together they bring you along on a journey back to Vilna with a young Rabbi Goldman. He had witnessed a world that had gone so wrong, but from that point forward, he spent his life planting the seeds for a world that would exist long after he was gone. To Rabbi Leo Goldman, it was always about our future.
To read and see more about the incredible story and the emotional reunion that followed, click the links below.
https://www.chabadgn.com/templates/blog/post_cdo/aid/2456346/postid/42780
There is even more to the post World War II story. That young boy he lifted on his shoulders was one that had been hidden a church to survive the war. The church raised him to be a happy young Christian boy. When his parents tracked him down, he refused to go with them. He didn’t want to be a Jew, he wanted to be a Christian. Nothing would change his mind. In desperation they asked him to go for a walk with them. On the walk, they happened by the Great Shul of Vilna and looked inside, only to have their son swept up by a Russian soldier who danced with him (with all the other men there) using him as their Sefer Torah. When the dancing and singing and rejoicing was completed, the boy told his parents that he had changed his mind. He wanted to go with them and discover his Jewishness. That boy grew up to become Abe Foxman, the past Director of the ADL and prominent Jewish attorney. Both he and Rabbi Goldman were reunited a short time before Rabbi Goldman was niftar from this world.
Thank you for this great feedback! Growing up in Detroit, I was very fortunate to know and become close to Rabbi Goldman zt’l. These details (which can be found in the pictures, links and footage located within this post), while supremely monumental in their own right, were purposely omitted as they do not further enhance the listening experience. Once again, I thank you for this valuable feedback and insight!