“People keep telling me, ‘I feel your pain, I know what you’re going through’ — and a voice inside of me says, No, they don’t, no one understands what you’re going through, no one can ever fathom your pain” (Photos: Flash90, Elchanan Kotler)

It’s still early morning, and Shacharis has just ended in the temporary apartment where the Ginzburg family of Beitar Illit is staying and sitting shivah. It’s down the street from their own home, which instantly became engulfed in flames last Tuesday night — a raging inferno that took the lives of two of their five children, four-year-old Efrat and two-year-old Tzvi, who were buried the following day.

Reuven Yehoshua Ginzburg, a 33-year-old kollel avreich, sits down in the low chair, scanning the people who have come to comfort him. His father, Rav Shlomo Ginzburg — a rosh yeshivah at Yeshivas Harei Yehuda in Moshav Beis Meir and grandson of famed mashgiach Rav Chatzkel Levenstein ztz”l — sits down next to him. Devorah Ginzburg turns to the other room, where a group of women is waiting to be menachem her. Sitting next to her is her grandmother, Rebbetzin Minna Raphael, widow of Rav Shiloh Raphael ztz”l (who before his untimely passing was rav of the Kiryat Moshe neighborhood and head of the Jerusalem beis din).

Silence reigns in the mourner’s room. The visitors wait for Reb Reuven to begin speaking, as is stipulated by halachah. But as he looks at them and nods his head, the words seem stuck. Grief and anguish don’t need verbal embellishment.

His uncle, Ohr Yisrael Rosh Yeshivah Rav Yigal Rosen, enters the room. Those present clear a place for him right in front. Reb Reuven begins to speak: “It says, ‘Tzidkascha kehareirei Kel mishpatecha tehom rabbah — Hashem’s middah of rachamim, of tzedakah, is high like mountains upon mountains, but when the middas hadin comes, it is a great abyss.’ I never thought it was possible to have two abysses.”

Rav Rosen looks for a moment at his shattered nephew and begins to speak words of comfort. “It is brought down that after the Churban Beis Hamikdash, when there are no more korbanos —HaKadosh Baruch Hu takes babies who have never sinned as a Korban Olah. They are taken by the malach Michoel, who carries them away without causing them a drop of suffering. Not every father and mother can bear such a difficult korban — it contravenes the nature of the world. But HaKadosh Baruch Hu chooses those who can and gives them the strength. He selects the ones who are worthy of receiving a precious and holy deposit to complete its tikkun in this world, and will then be ready for a life of Olam Haba.” For 40 minutes, Rav Rosen continued to offer words of chizuk and emunah — words he had heard from gedolei haTorah in this and the past generation. And the words from his own loving heart somehow penetrate the broken hearts all around.

A few minutes later, I find myself next to Reb Reuven. “Tzidkascha keharerei Kel,” he repeats.

Do you feel the “tzidkascha”?

He looks at me and the question in his eyes is apparent. “Of course I feel the tzidkascha,” he says. “I have three girls who survived unharmed. That was its own miracle. The children were all sleeping. My wife put them to bed, said Shema with them, and only left the house after they fell asleep. She had the neighbor next door go in every few minutes to check on them.

“As soon as the fire broke out, Efrat started crying, which woke up our oldest daughter Ayelet (age 10). She quickly woke up her sister Racheli (8) who was sleeping next to her, and told her to run to call the neighbor. The house was completely dark except for the flames that had ignited in the room where Elisheva (6), Efrat (4) and Tzvi (2) were sleeping. Within seconds, she ran to the burning room to wake them. Elisheva got up, but Efrat said she was staying in the room — Tzvi wasn’t responsive. Ayelet realized that it was a matter of seconds and dashed out holding onto Elisheva, helping her up when she stumbled and leading her safely to the neighbor across the hall, their faces black from the soot. The neighbors ran back in to try and get Tzvi and Efrat out, but the smoke was too heavy and the heat and flames blocked their entry. It was a question of seconds. So the fact that Hashem spared us our three big girls is a miracle and an infinite chesed.”

(Excerpted from Mishpacha, Issue 731)