Rav Berel was acutely aware that one’s time on earth is limited, and so his engine never idled
“Rabbi Feldman,” he says (using my title was his term of endearment), “I hate you!”
I know he is jesting because he never uses the word “hate”; the term is simply not in his lexicon. But I play along: “Berel, what did I do wrong this time?”
Comes this reply: “I just read your column. You write so much better than I do. I hate you.”
This was my friend Berel in microcosm: no frills, but direct, combined with sardonic humor. I laughed so hard that I could not finish my coffee.
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