We dare not judge those who came before us, because all the spiritual bounty we enjoy comes only through their strength
When Mishpacha recently asked me to share memories of my period in Yeshiva Torah Vodaath, the floodgates of my memory bank opened. I found myself not just remembering Rabbi Moshe Rivlin ztz”l — who, in 1948, was director of the dormitory, along with his many other duties — but also reflecting on his approach.
I was ten years old and one thousand miles from home, so I was fortunate to have been one of his boys, under his care and tutelage.
What, for example, did he do with us young boys on long Motzaei Shabbosim? One option was to let us hang around the dark Williamsburg street corners, or, even worse, find activities for ourselves that would remove us from the yeshivah’s atmosphere.
Instead, he created a better choice, hosting entertainment evenings in the yeshivah dining room. We would gather, each of us placing two pennies into his yarmulke in exchange for a numbered ticket. Then we watched cowboy movies, enthralled by the action.
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