S
ince Yeruchum’s uncharacteristic outburst on the day of the Great Yahrtzeit Battle Reb Leibush had kept a discreet but sharp eye on his gabbai. In his learning Reb Leibush had an unusual capacity for seeing nuances for focusing intensely on the miniscule differences in words in pshat in svara. When he’d become the rav of his shul and community Reb Leibush had taken that talent and expanded it to include the movements and expressions of the men and women who turned to him for advice and guidance. The slightest raising of an eyebrow or tightening of a lip a tense shoulder or tapping finger — all these told Reb Leibush detailed stories of frustration or suffering or fear.
Even Yeruchum’s iron control was no match for his rebbi’s discerning eye. Reb Leibush knew something was troubling him and he knew how to uncover it. Soon the two frock-coated figures once again were walking on a quiet stretch of beach staring at the faraway horizon.
“So what’s new with Chanaleh?” Reb Leibush asked keeping his voice casual after they’d discussed various shul affairs.
A stiffening of shoulders a deepening of voice. “She seems all right baruch Hashem.”
