“I was in Reb Azarya’s office. You know the picture of the baby on his desk? The picture of… of….” He took a deep breath. “Yisroel?”
A few moments passed, moments which Akiva knew he’d treasure forever — he had never felt so happy in his entire life. Then he remembered what brought him to the study in the first place.
“The rebbetzin mentioned something about a siyum? Is the Daf finishing a masechta or something?” Reb Azarya got a strange look on his face and looked downward. It was then that Akiva took note of the Gemara that lay open before him. Makkos, the final daf.
“Wait, rosh yeshivah, you didn’t…. No way.”
Reb Azarya shrugged humbly. “I would never want a talmid to go through a parent’s yahrtzeit without a siyum,” he said simply.
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