Litvish, chassidish, or Sephardic. It made no difference to him. A Yid was a Yid, and was precious in his eyes
The relationship I had with Rabbi Mandel ztz”l was multifaceted. On one hand, he was the menahel to four of my children. On the other, he was a role model and rebbi to me. In addition, he was a good friend.
Rabbi Mandel came to Chicago’s Veitzener Cheder ten years ago when my son Chaim began eighth grade. Naturally, I expected Rabbi Mandel to focus most of his energy on the younger grades. After all, they would be the ones to develop a more long-term relationship with him, while the eighth graders already had one foot out the door.
How wrong I was.
Rabbi Mandel valued and showed concern for every child. He called me up early in the year and told me that after observing my son, he had the perfect yeshivah in mind for him. He proceeded to tell me that this yeshivah was Mesivta of Lakewood. I, as a balabos from Chicago, wasn’t exactly on board with sending my son there.
When I expressed this to Rabbi Mandel, he looked me in the eye, acknowledged my reservations, and told me he had already scheduled a farher for my son.
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