I recently listened to a long, meaningful and memorable interview of Rabbi Aharon Cousin of London on the HFL (Homesick for Lubavitch) Podcast with Bentzi Avtzon.

It goes back to his WWII childhood, he mentions his childhood chewing tar out of hunger, his being present as a young teen at the untimely passing of his mother, his memories during the war & immediately post-war England, very telling tidbits. And what hours & effort & shoe leather he put in for many years.  It’s a fascinating personal story, a glimpse of history, some beautiful Rebbe nuggets, beautiful recall. I’ve never heard him before, but what struck me most was his “wow, wow, wow” muttering, after a long accomplished life hasn’t lost his wow-factor, his sense of awe… and his joyous, no regrets… He speaks with a clarity and an earthiness, with both sturdy strength & sincere humility.

There’s a lot to unpack from that interview: stories, experiences, anecdotes – many of which I’ve never heard before, but for this post, focusing specifically on something he shared about his roommate in his Yeshiva days by the Rebbe, in Crown Heights.

There was a big Chabad effort to do “Released Time” or “The Wednesday Hour” which was a law that allowed for one hour a week of religious instruction for public school children who  (with permission of their parents) would be taken off-site for that one hour each week. NCFJE (National Committee for the Furtherance of Jewish Education) organized and arranged this in dozens of public schools around NYC, and Chabad Yeshiva students at 770 would take off Wednesday afternoons to travel to and from, to pick up the children at the public school and bring them to a nearby pre-arranged synagogue location, where they’d pray a bit, learn some Torah, eat some snacks and hear Jewish stories and inspiration. The Rebbe was incredibly encouraging of this effort.

This R’ Aharon Cousin had a Yeshiva roommate who was a diligent scholar, one who loved study. He felt this Wednesday afternoon excursion wasn’t his speed, there were others who could do it better, and he’d much  rather stay and study instead. So this roommate wrote a letter to the Rebbe, explaining his reservations and preferences. And he got this response from the Rebbe: (perhaps not precisely, but this is the gist of it):

“All the souls in Gan Eden, including the soul of Moshe Rabbeinu, are jealous of your opportunity to help a Jewish child say Shema Yisrael!”

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Within a week of hearing this interview and this story, we spent a long day at the Rebbe’s Ohel. At noontime we were there for the joyous engagement of a UAlbany alumna and dear friend, celebrating with her fiance, and both their families, and his rabbi from Florida. We stayed on there for a small alumni meet-up at 2pm. We spent time with them, helped prepare them to write and go to the Rebbe’s Ohel themselves. It was getting late so we couldn’t stay to go in with them but I walked them to the end of the tent area, explained the process (especially since they’ve been there before).

I told J.R. that it’s appropriate to say a chapter of Psalms, perhaps the Psalm corresponding to his age. He looked at me and asked, “Would it be appropriate for me to say the Shema?”

Of course it would be! Saying the Shema is so meaningful. His question, his eager interest in saying the Shema, touched me so deeply.

I bid J.R. farewell and turned around to go home. And that’s when I saw Rabbi Aharon Cousin standing right there! His story about the Shema came rushing back to me. And I told this to him!