“I am writing to you from the Kessler Rehabilitation Institute in West Orange, New Jersey”

By Rabbi Paysach Krohn as told to Rabbi Moshe Dov Heber

Like many other kids growing up in America, I read Rabbi Paysach Krohn’s books and listened to his speeches. His messages always resonated deeply, but I never truly knew who Rabbi Krohn was — until I married his granddaughter in 2013. That’s when I began to understand the man behind the stories.

On any given afternoon, he received calls from all over the world. The phone would ring constantly. He offered chizuk, building up callers with his warmth, wisdom, and unwavering support.

I once asked Rabbi Krohn what his secret is to reaching so many people. His answer was simple yet profound: “I never speak about something I don’t do myself.”

The personal connection that so many people feel with Rabbi Krohn became especially evident after his recent stroke at the Agudah convention. Thousands offered heartfelt wishes and prayers. Tehillim continues to be recited nationwide, demonstrating the profound impact he has had on so many lives.

Rabbi Krohn was initially treated at Stamford Hospital and is now in rehabilitation. As he has for nearly four decades, he is drawing upon his experience to share words of encouragement with others. Having been a recipient of chesed and bikur cholim, he is eager to pass on the ideas that have profoundly impacted him.

As he often says, “Don’t just go through it. Grow through it.”

I am writing to you from the Kessler Rehabilitation Institute in West Orange, New Jersey. It is my sincere hope that none of you ever find yourselves in need of a place like this. However, I am certain that at some point, you will know someone who is confined to a hospital room or a rehabilitation unit. I’d like to share some thoughts that I believe can greatly improve the experience for patients in such settings. You have the power to make a meaningful difference.

Coming to a rehab center can make one feel incredibly lonely. The hospital provides initial care, with staff constantly moving, focused on getting you to the next stage. There’s a lot of hustle and bustle. But when I entered rehab, it was a different atmosphere — much quieter.

We reached out to the local Bikur Cholim for help, and they responded right away. Upon hearing that a frum Yid was coming, they sprang into action. They even went so far as to bring a refrigerator and microwave into my room to make me feel more at home.

People reached out to ask if there were any specific foods I wanted. I was deeply touched by their thoughtfulness. For certain patients, something as simple as a piece of sweet noodle kugel can make the difference between a mediocre and a memorable Shabbos. Many medical facilities have fully stocked bikur cholim rooms, but there are others that don’t, and they may not have that special food that a patient truly wants. These small gestures make such a big difference in lifting the spirits of those who need it most.

Keep in mind that any food brought to the patient needs to be approved by the medical facility’s dietician, to ensure that it aligns with the patient’s dietary needs and health requirements.

I’ve been speaking about bikur cholim for years, but until you truly experience it yourself, it’s hard to grasp the incredible work these tzaddikim do. One person in the community even went so far as to purchase a home near the facility to house guests of the patients. Mi k’amcha Yisrael!

Words can’t fully express what it means to have someone from the West Orange community come each day to help me put on my tallis and tefillin. For decades, this was something I always did myself, and I never wanted to miss a single opportunity. Even though my family is here around the clock, a female relative might be unfamiliar with tefillin, so the community always manages to send the perfect person to assist me, ensuring I feel supported and connected to this daily mitzvah.

Most people know where the mizrach is in their homes, but when I found myself in rehab, neither I nor my visiting family knew where to find it. A mizrach sign was affixed to the wall, and each time I daven, it orients me in the proper direction. It took just a minute for the person who brought it, but for the patient, it uplifts each tefillah and brings a sense of connection and comfort.

I arrived at the rehab on Thursday, and for Shabbos, they told me a minyan would walk over so I could daven b’tzibbur and experience a beautiful atmosphere. For a patient who was essentially alone, this was such an infusion of joy. I was so uplifted that I felt compelled to address them, and I even spoke three times that Shabbos.

Over the last few weeks, I’ve noticed a few seemingly small gestures that made a big difference to me, and would to others as well, I assume. On Friday, my grandson came to visit and brought nicer plasticware for us to use over Shabbos. It’s a rehab, not the most joyful place to be — but this small act allowed me to feel special and gave me a sense of normalcy on Shabbos.

I’ve always enjoyed taking pictures and looking back at happy times. Now, those pictures hang in my room, and as I gaze at them, I marvel at my family and look forward to fully recovering so I can join them in the next simchah. During the harder moments, those pictures provide much-needed bursts of chizuk, reminding me of the good times that await.

Communication is key in showing a patient that you care. A simple text message of chizuk can go a long way. Emails and letters are also a great way to share that you care. I personally appreciate it more when people send words of encouragement rather than queries. When asked a question, the patient often feels obligated to respond and engage in a conversation, which can sometimes be difficult.

Phone calls should be kept short and to the point. I truly appreciate all those who call and communicate, but it’s important to remember that the patient is using his or her energy to focus on getting better. When you talk to patients, remind them how deeply they are loved by their family and friends. A sick person can never hear this enough. These words of reassurance provide comfort and strength, reminding patients that they are not alone and that they have a strong support system surrounding them.

Each visitor who comes is deeply appreciated. It works out well when my family is contacted in advance to come at the proper time. It’s important to remember that visits should be kept short, so the patient doesn’t feel the burden of having to entertain. Keeping the visits brief and sweet ensures they remain uplifting without overwhelming the patient.

As a choleh, I realize the power of tefillah, especially as Chazal teach us that the Shechinah is present at the head of a sick person. It’s important to remind a sick person of this, so he can find comfort in the close proximity of the Shechinah and use it as an opportunity to daven. The Maharal explains that the number eight represents things that are above nature, transcending the ordinary, l’maalah min hateva. It is no coincidence that the eighth brachah of Shemoneh Esreh is about refuah, teaching us that healing can come in ways that defy conventional expectations.

The care here has been amazing, and when I am hopefully able to move on, I want to thank all those who assisted in my recovery. From the aides to the nurses and doctors, each person who cared for me deserves a heartfelt thank-you letter after my recovery. I am personally keeping a list of their names, as I feel it is very important to show proper hakaras hatov.

Our small gestures make a big difference to the medical professionals, propelling them to continue caring for others as well. In cases where the patient is not able to have a family member keep that list, it is important for someone — whether a friend, a staff member, or a volunteer — to step in and help keep track of those who have been part of the patient’s care. This ensures that everyone who contributed to the patient’s recovery is properly acknowledged and appreciated.

Not every idea or approach that works in one place will necessarily be suitable for every person. The key is to focus on the individual patient — what they would want and appreciate. This personalized attention can always be implemented, ensuring that each patient feels cared for and valued in a way that suits their needs and preferences.

My hope is that all cholim have a complete refuah bimheirah. Please continue to daven for me, Paysach Yosef ben Hinda, as I continue my journey to recovery.

Rabbi Paysach Krohn is a mohel, the author of ArtScroll's best-selling Maggid series, and a world-renowned speaker on ethics and spiritual growth.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1943)