Rav Shmuel Kamenetsky is still dreaming of ways to elevate and illuminate the American Torah landscape
There is a laughter that is true and a laughter that is false.
When Rav Shmuel Kamenetsky takes my hand, he laughs quietly, the truest laughter I’ve ever heard. There is such kindness in his smile, in the way he looks at me as if he knows me, as if he understands what I say I want and what I really want. It reassures and encourages and says, “You’re a good guy.
Keep it up.”
The Rosh Yeshivah is looking at me expectantly — I’ve come to talk, haven’t I? — but I find myself wishing I could just sit quietly and soak in the smile and wise eyes for a bit longer: the Rosh Yeshivah sitting at this small table, a dish of apricot and mango before him, in a small room where the art on the wall includes a poster with the words of a passuk, “Ki vo yismach libenu, ki b’sheim batachnu,” both words “ki” in bold.
The Rosh Yeshivah’s accent is a blend, European elegance set to the cadence of out-of-town America. It sounds as if he’s adapted it, over his many decades, to the people with whom he speaks.
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