Tonight, כ"ז אב, is the yahrzeit of the heilege Tosher Rebbe, Rav Meshulam Feish ben Mordechai HaLevi. As much as is known about the Tosher Rebbe, there is so much more that is unknown about him. He lived in a little hamlet in Quebec, where he pulled strings, connecting heaven and earth; he helped people from one end of the world to the next.

A young man from Boro Park came to Tosh with his story of despair: when he’d gotten married, his father-in-law had promised to provide an apartment in the neighborhood, but instead of an apartment, the young couple was given a dank room.

“There is no kitchen, and my wife has grown so depressed by where and how we live that our sholom bayis is suffering,” he told the Rebbe.

The Rebbe asked the chassid what it would cost to renovate and expand the apartment, adding the space and appliances to lift his wife’s spirits.

The visitor had already spoken to a contractor and he had the answer. For eighteen thousand dollars, he said, the apartment could be made livable, even pleasant.

The Rebbe spent the next few hours on the phone, calling different people, but by the next morning, he’d only succeeded in raising two thousand dollars. “This is all I could manage so far, but it’s enough to start with,” the Rebbe said. “Take this, and I guarantee you that in one month, you will have the full amount. I will take care of it.”

The Rebbe wished him well and the overjoyed young man set off for home, excited at being able to start a new chapter in his life.

A month passed, but no money arrived from the Rebbe. The contractor started to hound the young chassid, who urged him to wait a bit longer, certain that the Rebbe would deliver on his pledge. Another week passed, but still, the funds didn’t come. Finally, in desperation, he traveled back to Canada, and waited his turn to go into the Rebbe’s room.

He came in and, even before he said a word, the Rebbe jumped up. “Please, please, please zei mochel, please forgive me. We’ve had so many tirdos here, so much pressure, that I completely forgot about what I told you. I feel terrible.”

“Rebbe, the contractor is threatening legal action and my wife is furious, what should I do?” the chassid asked.

The Rebbe shook his head back and forth, “Oy, it’s my fault, I forgot. I’ll make it up to you.”

The Rebbe handed the visitor the telephone and asked him to dial his wife: when she was on the phone, the Rebbe took it and apologized to her as well, explaining that he’d been overwhelmed by his own pressures and he’d forgotten about the commitment. Now, the Rebbe assured her he would take care of it: he wanted her husband to stay in Tosh for a few days, he said, so that this time around, he wouldn’t forget. The wife agreed and the Rebbe got to work.

Three days later, the Rebbe called in the chassid and handed him eighteen thousand dollars. “Now, go pay for the work,” the Rebbe said with a smile. The visitor protested that the Rebbe had already given him two thousand dollars, but the Rebbe insisted that this was ‘piyus gelt’, compensation for having disappointed him.

Many years passed by. The chassid moved into a nicer apartment, raising a fine family.

On erev Yom Kippur one year, he received a visit from an unfamiliar older man, who asked to speak with him privately. The older man, a dry goods importer by trade, had a story to tell.

“Many years ago, I was in Tosh, and before I left, the Rebbe asked me if I could bring an envelope with me to Brooklyn and give it to you. It contained several checks, and when I got home, I deposited those checks in my bank account, reasoning that I would take care of it the following day.”

The man paused for a long moment, then continued his story. “The next morning, the bank teller informed me that that account had been overdrawn, so some of your money had gone to cover the overdraft. I reasoned that there was no point in bringing you part of the money, so I would wait until the end of the week, when I would be able to take it back out. What can I say…the end of the week never really came, the money was never replaced, and I got deeper into the hole I’d created and tried to push it out of my mind. I came to apologize, to ask mechila for taking your money and for all the aggravation I caused.”

His host sat there in near-shock, recalling the trip back to Tosh, the way the Rebbe had looked at his face and immediately apologized, without hesitating for a minute. He contemplated the fact that the Rebbe had raised the money not once, but twice.

“The Tosher Rebbe is a malach,” he finally whispered, barely able to speak. 

Now the story-teller, the visitor, spoke again, his voice heavy with emotion as he continued the story. “When I finally decided it was time to do teshuva, I summoned up the courage and went to Tosh. I hadn’t been there in twenty years, since receiving that envelope, but I went in to the Rebbe and told him what happened all those years ago. I told him how I had sinned.

“The Rebbe listened closely, and then smiled broadly. ‘You don’t know what a great deed you have just done. Klal Yisroel needs zechusim now, and you, with your sincere teshuva and courage in coming forward, have broken through a wall in shamayim for all of us. It’s wondrous, what you’ve achieved. You will also have to ask mechila from the person whom the money was meant for and you will create zechusim for all of klal Yisroel. Ashrecha!”

The two men sat there together, marveling at the bond that had connected them, the tzidkus- the generosity, compassion and incredible strength- of the Tosher Rebbe.

The pele of the story isn’t the Rebbe’s largess in collecting $18,000 for a person or his reaction to the man’s confession. The pele of the story is the Rebbe’s avodas hamiddos- he was a master over his reactions. When the Yid came in to complain about the Rebbe not fulfilling his promise of collecting the money, the Rebbe immediately took responsibility, despite the fact that he had instantly concluded that someone had stolen the money. The Rebbe’s immediate reaction wasn’t about his kavod, but about the other person getting the required money. He even went a step further to add $2,000 in “piyus gelt.”

The last words uttered by the Toshe Rebbe in this world were: עזרנו אלקי ישענו על דבר כבוד שמך והצילנו וכפר על חטאתינו למען שמך (Tehilim 79:9), help up Hashem, our deliverer for the sake of the glory of Your name. Save us and forgive our sin for the sake of Your name. The passuk encapsulates this story: “It is about Your kavod, Ribbono Shel Olam, not about us.”

Im yirtzeh Hashem, I will have the zechus of traveling to Tosh on the Rebbe’s yahrzeit tomorrow. Many people have seen wonderful yeshuos and I would like to offer to take any names and bakashos. Please send all requests to yisroelbesser@gmail.com before shacharis tomorrow morning and it will be my honor to take them to the tsiyun to read.

Zechuso Yagen Aleinu.