Rabbi Zalman Hillel Fendel

A Torah Temimah

“W

e knew something was wrong,” his wife relates. “It seemed like more than just the initial symptoms of the virus. He just didn’t look right. But we were scared to go to the hospital. We knew what that meant. So we went to urgent care. We called the doctor until it got to the point where we knew there was no choice. Hatzolah came to take him.

“ ‘What should I pack for you?’ I asked him.
“ ‘My tefillin, my Chumash, my siddur, my Gemara,’ he answered in a low, raspy voice. It was difficult for him to talk at that point.

“As I gathered his belongings, I glanced at the clock. Shabbos had arrived and in the imminent emergency, we hadn’t realized. ‘Don’t worry,’ my daughters assured me, ‘we lit the candles for you.’

“ ‘I’ll need grape juice to make Kiddush,’ my husband said.