I learned that with the Rebbe at the wheel, I’d reach my destination. But who knew that my friends could also come along for the ride?
As told to Rivka Streicher
Hy father has a connection with a rebbe in Brooklyn, a luminary of a person, albeit a small following. The Rebbe’s not one for kavod, he does his own thing — but even his humility can’t hide his light.
I wasn’t really part of it. Growing up, we didn’t daven with this rebbe or go over to him to vintsh a gut yom tov. It was a relationship my father developed later on.
Until the Rebbe drew me in.
It happened one evening, when the Rebbe came over to my father at Maariv.
“How’s Esther doing?” he asked.
“Esther?” My father wasn’t sure whom the Rebbe was referring to.
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