A chronicle of faith, hope, survival, and blessings against all odds: letters of hope and faith from Rav Zalman Sorotzkin's children 

Photos: Family archives

The central train station in Vilna was eerily quiet on that chilly day toward the end of 1940, in the early days of World War II. The city, along with the rest of eastern Poland, was occupied by Soviet forces, and for the time being, the 55,000 Jews living in the city, in addition to another 15,000 Jewish refugees from German-occupied Poland, were safe. In a few months, Germany would attack Soviet forces in Eastern Europe and occupy Vilna, creating a ghetto and sealing the fate of its Jews. But, then, there was still a possibility of escape.

Waiting to board the train was Rav Zalman Sorotzkin, son-in-law of Telshe Rosh Yeshivah Rav Eliezer Gordon and the rav of the Ukranian town of Lutzk, where, as a leader of Agudas Yisrael, he became renowned as one of Eastern Europe’s outstanding rabbanim. When Lutzk was occupied by the Russians, they threatened to imprison him if he continued his activities, and so he fled to Vilna with his family, where Rav Chaim Ozer Grodzenski charged him with heading the Vaad Hayeshivos for the many yeshivos and talmidim who had escaped to Lithuania.

But Rav Sorotzkin knew that time was running out, and although he was no longer a young man (he was nearing 60), he was encouraged to escape with his wife and twin sons, Yisrael and Bentzion. As they boarded the train they hoped would take them to safety — and maybe even reach their goal of Eretz Yisrael — they cast a final glance at the cursed ground, and took stock of those remaining behind:

Their oldest son, Rav Elchanan, was caught by the Russians while escaping from Zholodek, where he served as rav, while his wife, Shaina, and their children were spared; their daughter Tamar (Temma) with her husband, Rav Yisrael Zeidenwurm, and their young son, who lived in Lodz; and their sons Boruch and Eliezer, who were in yeshivah in Telshe — all awaiting exit permits so that they could flee.

As the train set out toward Minsk, Rav Zalman promised himself he would find a way to remain in contact with each of his children, wherever they were.

Months later, after a chain of events that Rav Zalman would later describe as miraculous, the Sorotzkins would step foot on the ground in Haifa.

A festive reception to honor a man revered not just for his Torah, but for his communal responsibility, was held in the Babad Hotel in Jerusalem. Unable to just “enjoy the moment,” Rav Zalman shared the realities of what he’d seen in Europe and a disbelieving audience shivered in shock — and that was before the Germans had overrun Lithuania.

Rebbetzin Sarah Miriam Sorotzkin, who walked each day from their home at 10 Hoshea to the Kosel, pouring her heart out in prayer for her brothers and sisters, would not participate in simchahs and joyous events. Concern for those left behind consumed her.

But then, the letters began to come — a miracle in itself — and they tell a story all their own.

For 80 years, the collection of letters and postcards was kept private. But now, with the soon-to-be published first-ever book on Rav Zalman Sorotzkin’s multifaceted life — Bein Hadeah Ladibbur — the archives have been released by his grandson, Rav Michoel Sorotzkin, a popular lecturer and rosh kollel of Hadeah Vehadibbur Telshe Stone, who initiated the project to bring Rav Sorotzkin’s amazing accomplishments to a new generation. As a senior editor on the project, I’ve been privy to this collection, and am grateful to be able to bring them forth to Mishpacha readers for the first time.