A dear friend of mine a young prominent rav was going through a difficult illness. A person of refined character he tried hard to remain upbeat and optimistic for the sake of his wife and children. He was therefore quite surprised when one morning the nurse remarked: “Rabbi be positive!”
The rabbi was taken aback by the nurse’s comment given that he was painstakingly attempting to maintain a face of good cheer while navigating his own emotional roller coaster. Upon her return he questioned her reproach. “I’ve tried so hard to keep my chin up and weather the storm. I thought I was doing a pretty good job until your statement this morning. Am I doing something wrong?”
“No! No! Rabbi not at all! Yesterday you asked me what your blood type was. I was just giving you the test results. It’s B positive!”
Rav Yaakov Yosef Herman ztz”l gained renown for his zealousness in upholding authentic Yiddishkeit in an America that for the most part didn’t care. At his daughter’s wedding he risked ridicule by insisting that there be separate dancing that the women dress in modest attire and that bentshers be distributed to all the tables. In addition he paid the caterer for dessert but instructed that it not be served as a zecher l’Churban to temper the celebration in memory of the Beis Hamikdash. He was from a rare breed of Jews who deeply felt the lack of our Holy Temple.
