"Who is that man?", the boy asked his father", "he must be the happiest man in the world!"
It was Simchat Torah, 1969, and the boy was amazed at the energetic enthusiasm of a man - with five young kids in tow - who was celebrating the joyous Holiday.
"That man? Actually, his name is Rabbi Hersh Gansburg. It's hard to believe, but he just lost his wife, Rashi; she passed away six days ago at the tender age of 37.”
Shocked, the exclaimed "What? How can he be so happy??"
"You can be certain that his heart is broken, but it's a Holiday, a joyous time. A Chassidic Jew, even in the depths of his pain, is able to find joy when he needs to."
Later that day, at a gathering (farbrengen) of thousands, the Rebbe turned to this very same man and asked him to say l’chaim on a bit of vodka. The packed synagogue was hushed as the young widower said l’chaim, and then began to sing a hope-filled Russian song [which translates as] “We, in water will not drown nor in fire will we burn”. The Rebbe began to emphatically encourage the crows to sing along, ultimately standing up to dance in place as the crowd became more and more excited, singing faster and faster.
Those present were astounded by this little heartbroken man, swinging back and forth, raising his voice from the depths of his soul, “We in water will not drown, and in fire we will not burn,” as if he was truly the happiest man alive.
A personal note:
I was in Chicago this week to mourn the sudden passing of a 59 year old colleague, a man who’d devoted his life to sparking and strengthening G-d-consciousness throughout the State of IL. To see his widow, children and grandchildren, to feel his loss, was unbearable.
Yesterday, I was at a funeral in Brooklyn to mourn another sudden death. This time, it was the wife of my colleague in Alpharetta, Georgia, a 37 year old mother of eight, who’d been devoting her life to the community down there. .
That young lady was named Rashi. She was Rabbi Gansburg’s granddaughter, the first Rashi named for the lady who passed away in 1969.
Lots of pain. Lots of sadness.
And now Purim.
How to celebrate?
With joy. Because that’s what we do.