First-Aid Training

“Reuven,” he said, “I don’t think you’re ready for Eretz Yisrael quite yet. Wait another year, and then you’ll be on the right level of learning.”

I was sure this was a bubbe maaseh, because the three boys in my shiur who were going to Eretz Yisrael the following year were actually on a lower level in learning than I was. The difference, I thought bitterly, is that their fathers have money and connections, so he’s going to get them in anyway.

I was furious with Rabbi Perlbaum, but powerless to flout his decision. Without his recommendation, no yeshivah in Eretz Yisrael would take me. But I made up my mind that even if I couldn’t go to Eretz Yisrael, I would not stay in this yeshivah for another year. I’d go somewhere else, and then move on to Eretz Yisrael from there.

A cousin of mine was learning in a different yeshivah, and he convinced me to join him.