Sowing Seeds of Greatness

The Mashgiach’s greatness was rooted in the home in which he grew up. He was born in London, but his parents Reb Yaakov and Ettel Salomon left Golders Green with their young sons to take advantage of the superior chinuch opportunities that were available in Gateshead.

The decision was a wise one, and Gateshead provided a fertile field for growth the for the young Mattisyahu, who was already a mevakesh par excellence. The Mashgiach would often share a story of an encounter he had when he was perhaps 15 years old that demonstrated how a simple conversation inspired him to excel in his limud haTorah.

“Young Mattisyahu was waiting for a bus. He was fortunate to be standing next to Rav Moshe Aryeh Bamberger, a talmid chacham and marbitz Torah who was menahel of the Gateshead Jewish Boarding school. As they were waiting for the bus, they began chatting, and Rav Moshe Aryeh asked the boy what he wanted to do in the future.

“I want to sit and learn Torah!” exclaimed Mattisyahu, revealing his innermost desire and goal.

Hearing those words coming from such a young bochur, Rav Bamberger was deeply moved. After all, where in England of those years could one find a bochur whose entire she’ifah was to learn Torah?! Rav Bamberger bent over, kissed the boy on his forehead, and when the bus arrived, refused to let young Mattisyahu pay the bus fare. “It would be my honor to pay the bus fare for an aspiring ben Torah,” Rav Moshe Aryeh said.

It was a story that Reb Avrohom heard Rav Mattisyahu repeat on many occasions, recalling the chizuk he got from that exchange.

“He used that as an example of what a person can do with one well-placed vort,” says Reb Avrohom. “An encouraging word can transform a life.”

Emunah and a passion for Torah weren’t just principles to Rav Mattisyahu, they were embedded in his DNA.

Rav Mattisyahu’s paternal grandfather, Reb Moshe Salomon, was renowned for his constant efforts to perfect his middos, always living in a rented home because he felt that buying a home in galus conveyed an inappropriate sense of permanence. Those values were passed down to his son, Reb Yaakov, who traveled a great distance each day as a child so that he could learn in a Torah environment. When Reb Yaakov became bar mitzvah, instead of receiving the traditional bar mitzvah gift of the time — a bicycle — he was given a large Vilna Shas, an act that demonstrated the chashivus for Torah that pervaded in the Salomon home. (That Shas was ultimately gifted by Rav Yaakov to his oldest son-in-law Rav Ezriel Rosenbaum, a current rosh mesivta in Gateshead, in honor of his wedding.)

During World War II, the Mashgiach’s mother volunteered with Agudas Yisroel, which was deeply involved in the effort to extricate the Kletzker Rosh Yeshivah, Rav Aharon Kotler, from Nazi-controlled territory. In the early days of the war, there were reports that a visa was in the works, but it was unclear which of the Agudah’s three offices might be receiving it. With the call bearing lifesaving news potentially coming at any moment, Mrs. Salomon volunteered to spend Shabbos alone at the Agudah’s London office awaiting word that the visa had been issued and approved, and did so for the next three weeks. Sharing the story at the last Beth Medrash Govoha dinner Rav Mattisyahu attended, Rav Mattisyahu noted that perhaps his mother’s mesirus nefesh for Torah was the reason he was privileged to serve in the makom Torah that Rav Aharon built.

Reb Yaakov and his eishes chayil raised their children in a home that was kulo chesed. They were heavily involved in obtaining visas for German Jews desperately seeking safety in England, opening their hearts and their homes to refugees who came to London with nothing, providing them food, nourishment, and advice, and on many occasions, even making weddings for young couples.

One of those families that benefitted from the Salomon’s kindness was that of Reb Avrohom Kohn, founder of the famed Gateshead seminary, who eventually settled in Gateshead. When the Salomons decided to relocate to Gateshead a relatively short time later, they sent their nine- and seven-year-old sons, Joe and Mattisyahu, to live with the Kohns for several months so that they could start the school year on time, even as they wrapped up their affairs in London.

It was clear even from Rav Mattisyahu’s earliest days in Gateshead that he was no ordinary learner. His childhood chavrusashaft with a boy named Chaim Kaufman blossomed into a lifelong bond, with Reb Chaim going on to become the rosh yeshivah of Gateshead’s yeshivah ketanah, while Rav Mattisyahu became the mashgiach at the yeshivah. Their shared capacity to grasp material far above their age level had the two bochurim rising quickly through the yeshivah, growing together both spiritually and academically.

Tragedy struck the Salomon family when young Mattisyahu was 15 years old, with his father’s premature passing. Despite the natural expectation that he would take on the burden of supporting the family, his mother was determined that he stay in yeshivah. Years later, he would share that despite spending some time helping his mother with clerical work, bookkeeping, and similar tasks, his learning increased dramatically after his father’s petirah.

I pushed myself beyond my natural strength. I didn’t sleep and didn’t take care of myself because I knew that as a yasom, I had a special shemirah. I knew that Hashem would take care of me, even if I abused my body.

In his early twenties, Rav Mattisyahu left the Gateshead Yeshiva and went to learn in Kfar Chassidim under Rav Elya Lopian. It was a transformational experience, one that broadened his horizons in hasmadah and laid foundations of mussar that he would build on throughout his life. Though Rav Mattisyahu returned to Gateshead after just nine months in Kfar Chassidim, he absorbed all he could while he was there. Just before his departure, Rav Elya said, “I have a feeling that the achrayus, the responsibility of mussar in the next generation, will rest on your shoulders.”

Prophetic words indeed.

Rav Mattisyahu carried that commitment throughout his lifetime, with his eishes chayil, Rebbetzin Miriam, an equal partner in that effort. The eldest daughter of Reb Avrohom Tzvi and Sarah Falk, the Rebbetzin was raised on a diet of emunah and erlichkeit, and was a true partner to the Mashgiach. The Rebbetzin insisted on taking care of all household matters so that Rav Mattisyahu could devote himself fully to his learning and his students, and she also managed his schedule and arranged his appointments. In addition to giving Rav Mattisyahu a brachah before he delivered a shmuess, the Rebbetzin would say Tehillim while he spoke.

The Mashgiach fully appreciated the depth of his wife’s involvement and their relationship was filled with mutual respect. One time, Rav Mattisyahu asked his close talmid Gedalia Rieder to help him choose a meaningful gift for his wife. Reb Gedalia suggested replacing the Rebbetzin’s brass leichter with a silver candelabra, but the Mashgiach flatly refused.

“The Rebbetzin would never agree,” was the Mashgiach’s instant response. His next words showed a pashtus and temimus that defy description. “Do you know how beautiful her leichter are? Do you know why they are beautiful?” He paused before continuing. “Do you know why? Because she has shed so many tears on behalf of her children and grandchildren in front of those leichter. Do you know how many wonderful Shabbos seudos the Rebbetzin’s leichter have witnessed?! I can never replace that!”

Otherworldly Words

Rav Mattisyahu was renowned for the innumerable shiurim, shmuessen, and vaadim he delivered, both in Gateshead and in Lakewood, as well his visionary efforts to face the many contemporary challenges that threatened Klal Yisrael during his lifetime. A role model who inspired by example and invested himself in the hardships of acheinu bnei Yisrael, the Mashgiach was an articulate and compassionate voice for Torah Jewry. But as prolific as Rav Mattisyahu’s accomplishments were, he was always incredibly human, and the stories that were shared with his children after his petirah became the impetus for this book.

It was Gedalia Rieder who first voiced the idea of writing a biography about Rav Mattisyahu. During the shivah for the Mashgiach, while reminiscing with the Salomon children, he suggested the idea of creating a book that would offer readers a close-up view of how the Mashgiach conducted himself throughout his life. The idea resonated with his father, Reb Yosef Rieder, who was also close with the Mashgiach. He loved the idea and offered to partner with him in bringing the project to life.

With the Salomon family on board with the concept, plans for the book began to take shape. Reb Avrohom Birnbaum had already written impactful biographies of Rav Avraham Kalmanowitz, the Pnei Menachem, Rav Shlomo Gissinger, Rav Elya Meir Sorotzkin, and the Klausenburger Rebbe, and the family decided they wanted him to take on this project as well. Ironically, they had no idea that Reb Avrohom and the Mashgiach had shared a close relationship. In fact, Reb Avrohom had been in Beth Medrash Govoha’s kollel when Rav Mattisyahu delivered his first shmuess.

“I was there and it was very full,” recalls Reb Avrohom. “Everybody had heard about Rav Mattisyahu, and wanted to see who he was. His first message was, ‘I’m here to be your friend. I’m not here to be a fifth rosh yeshivah — we have four roshei yeshivah. My job is to be here to service you, to help you,’ and that made a big impression on me.”

That responsibility was one that Rav Mattisyahu took seriously. The combination of his own life experiences and his innate sensitivity allowed the Mashgiach to intuit the best way to help those who were going through trying circumstances, overcoming seemingly insurmountable obstacles when the need arose.

One such case involved a struggling tenth-grade yeshivah bochur.

The Mashgiach, who knew that Reb Ezriel [Munk] was involved in kiruv and was thus well-connected, said, “I happen to know a bochur whom I think Senator Joseph Lieberman can help. This bochur, a tenth grader and an orphan, is struggling. He keeps on adamantly insisting that he wants to leave yeshivah. Knowing that we could lose him if, chas v’shalom, he leaves the yeshivah, I asked him what it would take to get him to stay. He told me that he loves politics, and if he were able to meet and talk with the senator, and Senator Lieberman would advise him to remain in yeshivah, he would listen to him.

“I would love to help,” Reb Ezriel answered apologetically, “but I don’t know Senator Lieberman.”

The Mashgiach’s five-word retort stopped Rav Ezriel in his tracks, “So get to know him. We need to save the life of this bochur!”

Two days passed. The conversation was at the forefront of Reb Ezriel’s mind, but he had still not come up with a way to meet Senator Lieberman.

It was late in the day when Reb Ezriel was circulating at an upscale dinner in Manhattan. Suddenly, who walked right in front of him? None other than Senator Lieberman and his whole entourage!

With the Mashgiach’s words fresh in his mind, he thought, I need to act now. I will never have another chance to meet him casually like this.

Running over to the senator, Reb Ezriel pushed his way through the outer circle until he was standing directly in front of him.

“Senator!” Reb Ezriel exclaimed. “Please, I need three minutes of your time.”

When the senator saw his serious demeanor, he said, “Okay, hold on.”

A few minutes later, he gave Reb Ezriel his full attention. Reb Ezriel described the young orphan’s situation and how just by speaking to him, the senator would ensure that the boy would have a future in Yiddishkeit.

“Really,” the senator replied, “I would love to speak to him. But I am not in charge of my time. I have a very tight schedule, and my aides make sure I function on schedule and get from one place to the next.”

“But Mr. Lieberman!” Reb Ezriel pressed, “just think: You could change the entire trajectory of his life. You could make a difference to whether or not he stays in yeshivah!”

Just then, someone walked past, handing out ArtScroll commemorative bentshers. Taking one of the bentshers, the senator opened it and asked for the boy’s name.

“Dovid,*”  Rav Ezriel answered, “his name is Dovid.”

“Dovid,” the senator wrote inside the bentsher, “With thanks for all the Torah learning and mitzvot you are doing, and every good wish.” Signed, Joseph Lieberman, senator from Connecticut.

Needless to say, Dovid remained in yeshivah and today is the father of a wonderful family. Rabbi Munk concludes, “What amazed me more than anything was the Mashgiach’s bitachon and siyata d’Shmaya. He knew that this was what he needed to do, and he was certain that once he had done his hishtadlus, Hashem would take care of the rest. And He did! When you care about every yachid, Hashem enables you to help them!”

Everyone involved in creating Rav Mattisyahu — the Salomon family, Reb Gedalia, Reb Yosef, Reb Avrohom, and ArtScroll’s Rabbi Gedaliah Zlotowitz — understood that what they were putting together was more than just a book; it was a sacred task, one that would allow the Mashgiach’s influence to continue radiating, even after his petirah.

A Team Effort

It was clear to Reb Avrohom that the book needed to capture the fact that despite his gadlus, Rav Mattisyahu was a multifaceted individual who was incredibly human.

“The Mashgiach was a towering figure but still so down-to-earth,” explains Reb Avrohom. “He grew up in a non-rabbinic family and faced many personal challenges, and he used those experiences to better understand people going through difficult times, so he could say the right things and help them through those difficult moments.”

Rav Aharon Lopian was the youngest son of Rav Leib Lopian, Rav Mattisyahu’s rosh yeshivah.

When his father, Rav Leib, passed away, Rav Aharon was a young 16-year-old bochur and was very close with Rav Mattisyahu.

As soon as the shivah was over, Rav Mattisyahu called Rav Aharon over and said, “I want you to go to Switzerland to air out for a week.”

“But it’s is the middle of Elul and I am in the middle of shloshim,” Rav Aharon protested. “This is no time to go on vacation!”

“When my father passed away,” Rav Mattisyahu replied, “I was around the same age as you are. As soon as the shivah was over, I went right back to yeshivah. In truth, however, I was not ready to jump right back to life. I found myself unable to concentrate and I was dreaming in the middle of seder.

Rav Mattisyahu said, “Years later, when my baby was suddenly niftar, I didn’t know what to do with myself! We were heartbroken. I knew that if I didn’t get away for a bit, I would not be able to function. So I went away with the Rebbetzin for a week. No, it didn’t take away the pain, but it allowed us to be in a different matzav, away from home, where we could process things slowly.”

With a fierce sense of love and empathy, Rav Mattisyahu continued, “You need to get away and just relax your mind. It won’t take away your pain, but it will make your pain easier to handle. Don’t fall into the trap of saying, ‘I am fine, I can just carry on with life.’ You can’t.”

The Salomon home was a vivid demonstration what a Torah-true household should look like. It was a happy, healthy home that struck a balance between nobility and cheerful optimism, the special relationship between Rav Mattisyahu and his wife, Rebbetzin Miriam, providing yet another example of the Mashgiach’s humanity.

“They interacted with each other with good cheer, humor, nobility, and normalcy,” notes Reb Avrohom. “When you saw them, you saw how the Shechinah could also reside between husband and wife during the day-to-day and seemingly mundane rhythm of daily life, which is how things are meant to be.”

It is an incident that has remained seared in Rav Ezriel Tauber’s mind, a sight of a gadol b’Yisrael walking through a hospital, holding tight to a bouquet of… flowers!

Why would Rav Mattisyahu have been walking through New York University Hospital (NYU), grasping a bouquet of flowers?

It began two nights before the Kinus Klal Yisrael. The Mashgiach was ultra, ultra busy, and very weak. Then the Rebbetzin needed to be hospitalized and was taken to NYU in Manhattan. The Mashgiach asked Rav Ezriel to drive him to Manhattan to visit the Rebbetzin. On the way, he asked  Rav Ezriel if they could stop to buy flowers for her as she loved flowers.

When they arrived, the Mashgiach insisted on holding the flowers himself.

“As we walked through the halls on the way to her room, Jews from all over noticed the famed Mashgiach and ran over to greet him. Without a second’s thought about how it looked for him, the distinguished Mashgiach, to be holding a bouquet, the Mashgiach warmly greeted everyone. All while holding those flowers! All so that he could present them to the Rebbetzin by himself.”

The journey to capture Rav Mattisyahu’s life on paper had Reb Avrohom traveling to Gateshead and to Israel, where he interviewed people who had known the Mashgiach in his earlier days, including his sister Mrs. Chana Abenson and his sister-in-law, Rebbetzin Jacqueline (Salomon) Zekbach; his yeshivah classmates; and even his elementary school principal Rav Reuven Kohn, as well as many, many others.

Reb Avrohom estimates that he interviewed more than 50 people in his quest to provide readers with a full picture of how Rav Mattisyahu evolved into a leader who was both revered and loved, tracking down hundreds of stories.

Putting those stories together, chapter by chapter, was a herculean effort. The drafts were reviewed by many members of the family, and toward the end of the process in-person review meetings were held between Reb Gedalia, Reb Avrohom, and several of the Salomon children: Rabbi and Mrs. Isser Zalman Weinberg, Rabbi Moshe Yehuda Halpern, and Mrs. Naomi Jacobs. The responsibility of ensuring that every detail was accurate weighed heavily on the entire team, and great pains were taken to ensure that every story that was ultimately included in the book was verified by at least one independent source. Tracking down individuals who could confirm those details was a daunting task. In some instances, it involved locating a person who was in a particular hospital room in Israel at the time that a certain story unfolded. At others times it necessitated finding someone who was with the Mashgiach at a specific camp or bungalow colony when another memorable moment took place.

Once each chapter had been scrutinized by the entire team and reviewed by additional members of the Salomon family, Reb Avrohom went back to the proverbial drawing board, modifying his chapters to reflect the feedback that had been solicited. A second review of those chapters had the book team assembling once again, typically for a two-to-three hour meeting, wanting to ensure not only complete accuracy, but that every word written was in the Mashgiach’s “voice,” one that was equal parts mussar and love.

Rav Neuhaus,* a talmid of the Mashgiach, became a rav in a prominent shul that was a genuine makom Torah with a vibrant night kollel. The shul, which was in a fairly large city, was located on a somewhat narrow road not far from a fire station, a road that the fire trucks traversed on their way to most calls.

Some of those who learned in the kollel would park on the side of the road. Unfortunately, many neglected to park close to the curb, thereby interfering with the ability of the fire trucks to speed past en route to a fire.

The situation was untenable. It was not uncommon for the road to become partially blocked by cars, thereby forcing the fire trucks to slow down so they could squeeze past the parked cars. Needless to say, the fire chief was not happy and sent a letter to the shul, requesting that everyone park right up against the curb. He ended the letter with a warning, “If there is no change in the way people park in the near future, I will be forced to prohibit parking on the street.”

Rav Neuhaus hung the letter in the shul, but to his disappointment, it didn’t solve the problem. Most people continued parking haphazardly.

Right around that time, the Mashgiach came to that city for a visit. Rav Neuhaus confided in Rav Mattisyahu and asked his opinion about the situation.

Without a second’s hesitation, Rav Mattisyahu said, “You must close the kollel!”

“What?”  Rav Neuhaus raised an eyebrow, “But it’s a vibrant kollel! There is so much Torah being learned there!”

The Mashgiach, however, remained adamant, explaining, “The Gemara says about a person who learns Torah on the condition that he will not fulfill what he is learning, that it is better that such a person was never born at all! Torah must be learned in a way that one will actually act in accordance with what the Torah demands. This kollel is not meeting that demand.”

Real-Life Lessons

As illustrious as Rav Mattisyahu was, the book was deliberately written to be a profile of an individual who was as relatable as he was respectable. That approach was very much in keeping with the Mashgiach’s belief that people were less likely to read biographies and more apt to embrace books whose underlying messages would inspire and encourage readers, providing chizuk and tangible lessons that they could apply to their day-to-day lives.

In any office, things pile up after a while, and if one doesn’t sort through them, they pile up even more.

This was true for the Mashgiach’s home office as well.

One time, his son-in-law, Rav Moshe Yehuda Halpern, was helping the Mashgiach sort through his office. They were methodically going through the drawers when Rav Moshe Yehuda found two small bottles of wine.

“What are these?”  Rav Moshe Yehuda asked Rav Mattisyahu.

Rav Mattisyahu smiled. “You know, those bottles were given to me by a mekubal who came to visit. He heard that one of my daughters and sons-in-law had been waiting many years and had still not been blessed with children. He gave a special brachah to these two bottles and told me that if my daughter would drink one bottle and my son-in-law would drink the other, they would be blessed with children….”

Rav Moshe Yehuda was puzzled as he stared at the full bottles. Clearly, the Mashgiach had not given them to his children to drink. “But the bottles are still full! Why are you keeping them?”

Rav Mattisyahu replied, “I specifically kept them because I knew that Hashem would help them. I knew that He would answer them if they davened. I wanted to be able to show them to people so that everyone would realize that the proper approach is to daven, daven, and noch a mohl to daven. Baruch Hashem, they were eventually zocheh to have children because they davened, not because they drank the wine. All one has to do is ‘old-fashioned’ tefillah from the bottom of one’s heart!”

While Rav Mattisyahu was well-known as a master in halachah, he frequently sought the advice of others, both about questions of halachah as well as his own personal growth. He made numerous trips to Eretz Yisrael to seek the advice of the gedolim there on the wide array of questions that were brought to him, including Rav Yosef Shalom Elyashiv. In one instance, Rav Mattisyahu felt that a sh’eilah that had arisen in Lakewood needed to be discussed with the posek hador in Yerushalayim.

When the Mashgiach came in, Rav Elyashiv stood up to his full height in the Mashgiach’s honor and asked him, “Vos macht ayer America — How is your America doing?” After making some small talk, Rav Mattisyahu asked all those present to leave so that he could talk privately with Rav Elyashiv about sensitive matters regarding Lakewood.

Everyone left… or so it seemed.

Just as Rav Mattisyahu was about to broach the topic that had warranted a special trip to Eretz Yisrael, he noticed one person hiding under the table. One of those in the room was so curious to hear the private conversation between the two gedolim that he hid under the table!

Rav Mattisyahu remained with Rav Elyashiv for a few minutes, and then he left.

After the meeting, one of Rav Mattisyahu’s closest people, who had left the room as requested, approached the Mashgiach. “What did Rav Elyashiv pasken?”

He was flabbergasted when Rav Mattisyahu told him, “I never even discussed the sh’eilah!”

“What?!! But, but…” he stammered, “the Mashgiach flew to Eretz Yisrael JUST to ask the sh’eilah! The Mashgiach left his myriad responsibilities and duties in Lakewood, undertaking this arduous trip to Eretz Yisrael because he needed a psak that only Rav Elyashiv could render, and the Mashgiach didn’t ask the question?!”

“What could I do?” The Mashgiach’s temimus permeated his words. “When I noticed someone under the table, I was in a quandary. The conversation that I was about to initiate with Rav Elyashiv had to be completely private. For various reasons, privacy was not negotiable. Yet, if I were to acknowledge the person’s presence and ask him to leave, I would be embarrassing him. I couldn’t take that achrayus. To embarrass another Yid?! Instead, I made small talk with Rav Elyashiv, and when the person still didn’t leave, I wrapped up the conversation and left.”

“But how could the Mashgiach just leave when he so desperately needs an answer from Rav Elyashiv?” the talmid pressed.

Rav Mattisyahu’s reply was profound; profound in its simplicity and profound in its depth!

“When you do what Hashem wants, you don’t lose,” he answered. “Hashem didn’t want me to embarrass another Yid, especially in front of the gadol hador!”

An Open Book

The Salomon family was eager to show the world at large how Rav Mattisyahu had lived his life so genuinely, embracing HaKadosh Baruch Hu’s Torah, His children, and His world with a bren.

Asked to share a side of Rav Mattisyahu that isn’t publicly known, Reb Avrohom volunteers that the Mashgiach loved nature and absorbing the beauty of Hashem’s creation. At times, he would go to the English countryside to walk or make a cheshbon hanefesh. There were times during bein hazmanim when he would take walks in Switzerland, where the inherent beauty would fill him with inspiration.

“His love of nature stemmed from his appreciation of the One who created that beautiful world,” observes Reb Avrohom. “It wasn’t a separate hobby — it was part of his avodas Hashem.”

With his tremendous sensitivity, it was impossible for the Mashgiach not to be affected by the heart-wrenching stories that people shared with him. A story shared by Reb Doneal Bernstein illustrates how Rav Mattisyahu made a conscious effort to balance his empathy with his innate simchas hachaim.

I was one of the Mashgiach’s backup drivers. When neither his regular driver nor his main backup driver was available, I had the zechus to take the Mashgiach to yeshivah after his pre-Shacharis vaad.

In those years, the Mashgiach still walked with a spring in his step. He was always upbeat, but not that morning.

For some reason, after the vaad that morning, the Mashgiach was lethargic. When he went into his home office to get his tallis and tefillin, he sank into his chair, so weak that he couldn’t move.

“Is everything okay with the Mashgiach?” I asked.

His answer took me completely by surprise.

“No, everything is not okay,” was his uncharacteristic answer.

Then, in a pain-filled voice, he continued, “Yesterday I was up until three a.m. listening to one tzarah after another. There was the yungerman whose daughter had gone far, far, far away from Yiddishkeit. There was a story of physical abuse. Then there was the couple who insisted on a divorce and did not want to work on their marriage. I slept for a few hours, and this morning, before the vaad, two other people came to me with unspeakable tzaros.”

I saw that the Mashgiach was depleted, completely and totally depleted on an emotional level. As a result, I literally had to hold his arm and let him lean on me as he walked to the car.

He was sitting slumped in the front seat as I pulled the car onto 6th Street toward Lakewood Avenue. As we turned the corner from Lakewood Avenue into 7th Street, the Mashgiach saw a yungerman, tallis and tefillin in hand, walking quickly toward the yeshivah.

“Look!” the Mashgiach exclaimed excitedly, “You see that yungerman — he looks so excited to go and daven. Look, he is walking with zerizus…!”

Ten seconds later, he pointed to a different bochur running toward the beis medrash, tefillin in hand.

“Look at that bochur!” The weakness in his voice was slowly dissipating. He was literally like a child in a candy store. “Look at the purity on his face! Look at him! He is running to yeshivah to daven! Look at his smile! It is so wonderful to live in Lakewood. There are so many pure, temimusdig ovdei Hashem here!”

By the time we got to yeshivah, the Mashgiach had a broad smile on his face and sprang out of the car with zerizus. Suddenly, all the melancholy, all the heartache was gone.

I saw how he worked on putting things in perspective, looking at the big picture. I saw how the concept of ayin tovah and being b’simchah was such an avodah for him. He worked on being b’simchah because he saw simchah as a critical component in his avodas Hashem.

Rav Mattisyahu knew that radiating positivity and joy was an important part of his role as an emissary of Torah. His smile lit up not only the room, but the neshamos of everyone around him.

It was Erev Shabbos, only hours before lichtbentshen.

The phone rang in the home of Reb Nosson Zev Nussbaum. It was the Mashgiach. After greeting him warmly, the Mashgiach asked, “Perhaps it is possible to find a dentist who will still treat me before Shabbos. I really need a dentist today.”

“Oy!” Reb Nosson Zev commiserated, “if the Mashgiach is calling now, he must be in tremendous pain. Otherwise, he would wait until after Shabbos.”

“No,” Rav Mattisyahu replied, “I can manage with the pain. The reason for the urgency is that the dental issue that I have is preventing me from smiling a full smile. Tonight, the entire yeshivah will file past me to wish me a ‘Gut Shabbos,’ expecting me to give them a full smile. Some people wait for this smile all week. If I don’t go to the dentist and have the problem fixed, I won’t be able to give them a full smile!”

Inspiring.

Inimitable.

The 458 pages of Rav Mattisyahu are but the tip of the iceberg, reminding readers that each one of us has the ability to inspire others. The Mashgiach showed us how — it’s up to us to follow in his footsteps.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1091)