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First Yahrzeit of Rav Aharon Walkin (Hour 3): Mesiras Nefesh for Torah, Shalom, and Belief in Every Talmid

Original title: Remembering The Rav: HaGaon HaRav Aharon Walkin Zt"l (Hour 3)

This Torah class is brought to you by TorahAnytime.com. Thank you, everybody, for watching. Thank you, Chazak. Thank you, Rabbi. Thank you, TorahAnytime, for arranging this event, the...

Speaker or source
Torahanytime
Category
Speeches and Events
Subcategory
Azkarah
Duration
1:06:30
Recording year
2021

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Transcript

This Torah class is brought to you by TorahAnytime.com. Thank you, everybody, for watching. Thank you, Chazak. Thank you, Rabbi. Thank you, TorahAnytime, for arranging this event, the first yahrzeit of our Rebbe, Rabbi Aharon Walkin, zecher tzaddik v'kadosh livrachah, of Rosh Yeshiva of Beis Nosson Meir here in Queens, the beis medrash of Chazak. Ah, yeah, yeah, rabosai, the first time I ever met Rabbi Walkin, the first time I ever met him was when I first moved to Brooklyn from Lakewood. I came into Queens to meet Rav Ilan Meirov and Chacham Yaniv in Ohel Simcha, Rabbi Chaim of shul. I went there in the morning and was sitting and learning, and I remember as Yaniv was talking to me, I was hearing so much sounds from across the beis medrash of screaming and learning Torah with such excitement and such beautiful sounds of Torah called Torah. And I would look at the corner of my eye and I would see Rabbi Walkin throwing his hands in the air, talking and learning as if he's talking to like a thousand yeshiva bochurim, kollel guys, in the top, top, top yeshiva in the world. And Baruch Hashem, there was like thirty, forty baalabatim, something that I haven't really seen, thirty, forty baalabatim at one shot, and this Rebbe was saying a shiur like he reminded me of back in the day in BMG, was saying a shiur with such a fire. He was saying the class of Torah, the halachos. He was giving it over with such excitement and such power, such passion. Every shiur he gave, it looked like he was doing it as if it's the last shiur he's ever given. Every single shiur, he didn't say, Oh, anyways, I'm going to give twenty more shiurim. Anyways, I already gave a hundred shiurim. No, he treated every single time he gave a class, he gave it all he's got. He gave it whatever he could to try to educate and try to give the power, the beauty of Torah, the passion of the Torah, the love of Hashem to the people that were in front of him. He tried to instill in them the love of Torah and the words of the Torah, kedushah. Every single shiur he gave, he gave it with such a passion, with such a koach, and he used so much of his energy. That's the first time I met Rabbi Walkin. I saw him at the corner of my eye, and I was like, Who is this person? He knows how to give a shiur. And after I met with Rav Ilan and Yaniv, I sat with him. With Rabbi Walkin, we sit, Shalom Aleichem. He told my name is Yaakov Richimi, I'm from Lakewood. And if everybody remembers, he was making something with cinnamon drink. I don't know what it was, something with cinnamon. And we're talking, we're talking. I told him how I'm a slacker and how I want to go back to yeshiva and learn Torah. And then he told me a statement, a sentence that I remember to this day. He said it with such a passion. He said it like he was like half crying when he said it. He told me, It's not pashut that an olam haba, HaKadosh Baruch Hu is not going to danos for not taking care of Klal Yisrael. In English, it's not so clear that after 120, when we're going to meet our Creator, when we're going to see Hashem in judgment, in judgment in olam haba, it's not so clear that Hashem is not going to tell us, Why didn't you take care of the rest of the Jews across America or in Queens that are in public school? Meaning, he was trying to tell me that, yeah, you want to go back to Lakewood, you want to go back to BMG, maybe you should. But don't think it's so pashut. Don't think it's so clear, for one, to just sit down and learn 24/7 when He has the capabilities to go help other people leave public school and inspire the new generation to come back to Hashem. He said it with like a question mark, but he said it with such a passion. He said it with such a broken heart. He was almost half crying, and to this day I remember the way he said it. And he literally, it was like a sword straight to my chest, the way he said it. I was like, you know what? It could be so selfish of me. If I'm capable of saving public school kids, if I have it in me to give a passion to other people to leave that world, to leave that culture, for me to stop everything and just go straight to learning all day, after I heard those words from Rabbi Walkin, it changed my mind. It changed my mind, and I made a decision that from now on, and like I said in many speeches before, from now on, like I tell my wife, there's no more turning back. After you see what's going on in the world, after you see how many Jews are being swept away and kidnapped, and kidnapped by the culture, and they want to come back, they want to learn, they're just waiting for the rabbis to feed them Torah. Once you see that. There's no going back. You just can't. I just can't sit and learn and all day, 24/7, only thinking about myself, knowing all the people in need help to come back to Olam Haba. It's because I love Torah so much. רבי וולקין taught us, it's because we love Torah so much, it's because we love Hashem so much, that's why we want others to learn Torah. That's why we want others to get close to HaKadosh Baruch Hu. Rabbi Wolkin, I said this to many people, Rabbi Wolkin had everything you needed in Lakewood. First of all, he had a last name Wolkin. He's מיוחס. You know, his father was a big rav, his grandfather. We're very, very big bnei Torah, very choshuv yichusim that the biggest talmidei chachamim, poskim, musar across the world. I think it's called Charlesa Tshuvas, Beis Aaron, from Aaron Wolkin. I think he's named after him. That's his grandfather. He was related to the Sorotskin family in Lakewood. He was related to the Kutler family. He was related to so many gedolim. He had everything he needed. He was hooked up. He could have got any job he wants at any yeshiva in Lakewood. He was a rav in Lakewood. He was a posek. He had a kollel. But he still left everything behind in Lakewood, and everything he can go, any yeshiva he wants.

Wanted to market. He left everything behind, and he drove to Queens a few times a week. Now, driving from Lakewood to Queens is a pain in the neck. I drive from Brooklyn to Queens, and I'm a hundred times younger. It's very, very annoying and hard. Rabbi Aaron Walkin, the big talmid chacham, the big, the gaon, that could have been the biggest Rosh Yeshiva, whatever it is, a big yeshiva in Lakewood, a big maggid shiur, could have gotten any job in any of these yeshivas. He was capable. He was very, very smart, big talmid chacham, big tzaddik. He had everything he needed from family yichus. He was a royal family. He closed everything. He left everything, and he decided to spend his time in Queens with tabale batim. He decided to spend his time with the public school kids that want to get close to Hashem and HaKadosh Baruch Hu. To me, that's gadlut. To me, that's a special person. That's a very, very special, holy, holy person, a person who's not selfish, a person who doesn't think about himself, a person who thinks about yeneh, thinks about other people. Rachaim Volozhin. His son, in the hakdamah, in the introduction, Nefesh HaChaim. Look at the introduction to Nefesh HaChaim. His son wrote an hakdamah, Rav Chaim Volozhin's son, and he writes over there that his father, Rav Chaim Volozhin, would tell his son that, You're not mishtatef enough. You're not taking part enough with that tzaar of other people in Klal Yisrael. You're not doing enough. And his father told him, Being mishtatef, taking part in other people's pain, helping other people, going out for other people, is not like an extra credit. It's not a plus. It's not, Okay, I'll do it once in a blue moon. He said, Zeh ikar shel adam. That is the point of mankind. Those are the words of Chaim Volozhin. Look inside. Zeh ha'ikar. The main thing is to help one another out. That's why human beings were created, to always have each other's backs, to always help each other out, make each other get close to HaKadosh Baruch Hu, teach Torah, inspire the next generation. Rabbi Aaron Walkin lived like that. Rabbi Aaron Walkin, again, I always think about it. He left everything behind in Lakewood. Now, maybe the listeners don't really understand what it is, but when you live in Lakewood, and you have a house in Lakewood, and you're a rav in Lakewood, and you have a kollel in Lakewood, and you're a person like Rabbi Aaron Walkin, then the whole Torah, the whole Torah kulah, posek, he knows everything. He could have been the biggest rosh yeshiva. He could have been the biggest maggid shiur. He literally passed that. He literally left it to travel to Queens to learn with baalei batim, 40, 50 baalei batim. Some days he had, I don't know, maybe 10 people, but he sat and he taught Torah with such a passion. It was unbelievable to see it. He gave over such love, such inspiration. The Torah was such excitement. He was such a special person. There's so much to learn from him, rabosai. If Rabbi Aaron Walkin was able to travel from Lakewood to Queens, even though he had whatever he needed in Lakewood to teach Torah to 30, 40 people, I'm not here to minimize the 30, 40 people. Every single one of them is very special. But they have to understand, and try to understand, the way I see it from an outsider, to leave everything behind to come teach you Torah, Rabbi Aaron Walkin is a big tzaddik. He really loved you, and he really did love every single one of his... One of his students of year at the Chazak organization. There was so much to learn from that person. Let's try our best to go out of our way to make other people shmet Torah. Let's give over Torah with such a passion. He was such a good Rebbe. You know, the Torah says every Yom Tov, every chag stands for a different one of the Avot. Pesach stands for Avraham Avinu. Shavuot stands for Yitzchak Avinu. Why does Pesach represent Avraham Avinu? Why is Avraham Avinu the symbol of Pesach, of Passover? So maybe, maybe we can say an answer. Eliyahu Hanavi writes in Perek Chav Gimel, in Tanah d'Bei Eliyahu, why did the Jews leave Mitzrayim? How did they get redeemed out of Egypt? We're about to enter Pesach, where we said the story of Yetzias Mitzrayim, where we left Egypt. How did the Jews leave Egypt? With what merit? Eliyahu Hanavi in Perek Chav Gimel says like this: Shekartu chesed zeh im zeh. They made a decree, a brit, a promise with one another that we're going to do chesed, we're going to do acts of kindness to one to another. We're always going to have each other's back. We're always going to make sure another Jew is happy, another Jew is calm. We're always going to love each other, always going to take care of each other. And says Eliyahu Hanavi, Eliyahu Hanavi, b'schut that they were koret chesed zeh im zeh, b'schut that they took upon themselves to do acts of kindness and always be nice to each other, b'schut that they got redeemed out of Egypt, b'schut that we left Mitzrayim. So why is Avraham Avinu the symbol of Pesach? Because Avraham Avinu, we know, was the amud shel chesed. Avraham Avinu was the pillar of kindness. Avraham Avinu had a huge tent, and he used to invite guests all the time. And Avraham Avinu not only invited guests, Avraham Avinu went out of his way for guests. He literally went out of his lane. He did not think about himself to go make other people happy. That was Avraham Avinu, amud shel chesed. That's why Pesach, because we left Mitzrayim because of chesed, because acts of chesed, we left Mitzrayim. Avraham Avinu, who was chesed, is the symbol of Pesach. Maybe, we know our Rebbe, Rabbi Aharon Walkin, passed away right before Pesach. How much did we cry that day, that week, that Rabbi Aharon Walkin passed...

The way it was such a shocker. It was such a shocker that Rabbi Aaron Walkin passed away. Queens is not the same. The organization is not the same without Rabbi Walkin. I don't think it's ever going to be the same. He was the pillar of the organization. He was the pillar of Queens. He was such a magnet. He was such a force. Wherever he was, everyone was running after him. Everyone wanted to talk to him. Everyone wanted his love, his hadracha, his guidance. Rabbi Walkin was a amud shel chesed. He was a pillar of chesed, and he passed away right before Pesach because Rabbi Aaron Walkin was chesed, and Pesach is chesed, and Avraham Avinu, which is the symbol of Pesach, is chesed. I want to share with you an interesting midrash, just to show you the power of Rabbi Aaron Walkin, our Rebbe, did, the power of spreading Torah. It's really based on the Gemara in Bava Metzia, I believe daf pei hei, if I remember correctly, daf pei hei. But over here I also saw it in the Midrash, in Midrash Koheles. The Midrash says like this. Rab Asi, Rab Asi obviously was a very big tzaddik, and Rab Asi, from the times of the Gemara, and Rab Asi wanted to see a glimpse of where Reb Chiya is sitting in Olam Haba. Reb Chiya, the Tanna, already passed away, and Rab Asi wanted to get a glimpse, a glimpse. He was asking through shamayim, through the chalom, through the dreams, can I see where Reb Chiya right now, after he passed away, can I see his reward? Can I see where he's sitting in Olam Haba? So what did Rab Asi do? Tsam tlatin yom, and he fasted for 30 days, and some say 80 days. The Yerushalmi says 80 days, in order to see a glimpse of where Reb Chiya is sitting in Olam Haba. And shamayim, they told him, they told him outside, and shamayim, they told him, Lo kedai at, you're not worthy enough. And shamayim told Rab Asi, Rab Asi, you know where Rab Asi was? We know the Chachamim tell us that any Tanna that's mentioned in the Gemara was able to do techiyat hametim. He was able to burn him with his eyes from the level of kedushah, of holiness, from the level of Torah that they knew. But over here, in shamayim they told Rab Asi that you're not worthy enough. Can you imagine his level? You're not worthy enough to see a glimpse of where Reb Chiya is sitting in shamayim. But he begged them and he begged them. He told them, let me see a little bit, a little bit. Ends up being in shamayim, they told him, okay, we'll let you see the beginning of the steps that goes up to the chamber of where Reb Chiya is sitting in Olam Haba. And that's what he saw. He saw a glimpse of the stairs going up to where the chamber is of where Reb Chiya is sitting right now in Olam Haba. And the Midrash goes on, even after Rab Asi saw that, he became blind. He became—he lost his eyesight. Why? From the level of kedusha, from the level of holiness of what he saw with his eyes. It was so powerful. Reb Chiya was so powerful. His olam haba was so beautiful and so holy. It was so powerful, full of Torah, yirat Shamayim, that blinded Reb Asi from now on. That's how big Reb Chiya's olam haba is. Now, what did Reb Chiya do that he got such a huge olam haba? What did Reb Chiya do right that Reb Asi fasted for 30 or 80 days to see a glimpse of the stairs that goes up to his chamber and then become blinded from it? How big was Reb Chiya? What did he do? So the Gemara in Bava Metzia says, look it up. The Gemara in Bava Metzia says that Reb Chiya used to close his sefarim. Reb Chiya was, of course, learned Torah. Reb Chiya was the Tanna, biggest, biggest talmid chacham. But what did he do? He made sure to go to cities that don't have teachers. He made sure to go to cities where kids, nobody is teaching them Torah, where kids, nobody is teaching them Torah. He took matters to his own hands, and he went from city to city, from city to city, and he established schools where rabbis teach kids, rabbis teach kids. He made sure the kids, wherever he went, no one is teaching them Torah. I'll take care of it. He taught them Torah, and then he arranged other rabbis to teach them Torah. That's what Reb Chiya was known for: to go around and make sure other Jews learn Torah, go around and see where Jews are not being taught Torah. You go take matters to your own hands. Close your sefer and go make sure other people learn Torah. Rabosai, from here we see the power of what it means for a person to spread Torah when he's able to do it. When a person has the power to do it, when a person has it in him, the capabilities to go spread Torah, look what happened to Reb Chiya. Reb Asi fasted for eight days to see a glimpse of the stairs where Reb Chiya is sitting in olam haba. How much does Hashem love? How much does Hashem appreciate when one goes and teaches Torah, when one—although Torah is his favorite thing, although we love Torah, Yimam v'layla, we'll give up our lives for Torah, but because we love Torah so much, that's why we want others to go learn Torah. Because we love Hashem so much, that's why we want others to go love Hashem too. That was our rebbe, Reb Aharon Walkin. Reb Aharon Walkin left Lakewood, not easy, and he went to many places to teach Torah. He went out of his way. He was moser nefesh, such a mesirus nefesh. It's not easy to go make sure other people learn Torah. He gave—literally, we can say on him, he gave his life for other people to learn Torah. He literally gave up his—

Everything he had for other people to learn Torah. He gave it all he's got. He tried so hard. He really wanted other people to learn Torah. Watching him, I used to learn for a sitter in the kolel here in Queens. Watching him teach Torah was amazing. It was such a love, was such a... He was able to give a shiur, laugh in the same shiur, and cry at the same shiur, to give rebuke and to give love. He was able to do everything with such an ish emes, such an ish yashar. He used to go like this, always think yashar, always think honest. He was pure. He was 100% emet. He was a ball full of fire spreading Torah. He was Reb Chiya. Who knows how big the olam haba of Reb Aharon Walkin, zalbatai, our rebbe. We lost him. We lost a giant. We lost a huge giant over here in the community and the world. You know, when you read history, some people, they get the Medal of Honor, something called the Purple Heart, the Red Heart. I used to have a neighbor in Lakewood. Where he actually fought the Nazis, he was a goy, and he had a purple heart in his house. He already passed away, but he was showing me all the newspapers where he was honored, and he showed me the purple heart, and he got so many. It was so interesting watching. What did he do that he got a purple heart? He did an extra credit type of thing in the army to beat the Nazis. So wow, such a big guy, you're such a hero, you get a purple heart. Lehavdil elef havdalot, rabotai, lehavdil elef elef havdalot. Rabbi Aaron Walkin deserves a lot more than a purple heart. Rabbi Aaron Walkin was a real hero. He was a general. He was a general for Hashem. He got up and he left everything behind. He was selfless, and he said, I'm gonna go out to save as many children as possible from the culture of the world. I will do what it takes to make sure other Jews get close to HaKadosh Baruch Hu. Rabbi Aaron Walkin, zecher tzaddik v'kadosh livrachah, was a hero. He was a hero to the world. He was a hero to HaKadosh Baruch Hu. We lost a general. We lost a huge, huge, huge hero that saved so many Jews from being kidnapped from the culture of the world. Mi yitenenu k'moto. You can never, ever—no one can take Rabbi Aaron Walkin's job. But what we can do is we can beg Rabbi Aaron Walkin in Shamayim to please daven for us, please daven for the community, to give us the kochot, the siyata d'shmaya, to try to save as many Jews as possible, to daven for the Chazak organization that are working so hard, they're working so hard to try to save as many Jews as possible, to daven for Rabbi Ilan Meirov, who works yomam valayla. I used to hang out with him at nights at Bet Gavriel. He seriously comes back home 12, 1 o'clock at night, meeting couples after couples, trying to help as much as possible. Chacham Yaniv, the guy is a machine. The guy is a spreading Torah machine, all day, spreading Torah all 24/7, 24/7. Chacham Rabbi over here, these people are machines of spreading Torah. We need to help them. We need to support them. So I'm here begging Rabbi Aaron Walkin, please daven for the Chazak organization to keep on going, to succeed ad biat Mashiach. Thank you so much for listening. It's been a year since the passing of our Rosh Yeshiva. Rab Aaron Walkin, zecher tzaddik kadosh livrachah. It's hard to really, you know, even though it's a year later, there are mornings I wake up and excited. It's like, okay, we're going to see Rosh Yeshiva here, and then reality hits. You know, he's really gone. But so many, so many great memories Rosh Yeshiva left behind, starting with the first meeting I had with him. Like going to any yeshiva, I expected that it's going to be a feher to get in. There was a lot of lachatz, a lot of worry, a lot of preparation went into whatever is going to happen. I thought an interview was going to happen, but if I remember correctly, we came in, Rabbi Ilan introduced myself to the Rosh Yeshiva. He hugged me, asked me if I'm ready to start Monday, and sure enough, we started that very next Monday. We came in on a Thursday; that very next Monday, we, myself with three other avreichim, we started the kollel. It was something, like I say, over the years, we were with him for four years, a kollel like no other. The love of the Torah that the Rosh Yeshiva had also, again, this happened really from the first time I saw him, just the passion he had, the love, the want for people to grow. It was immediate. Within the first session we sat with him, we understood that he's real. What he wants is going to happen, and it wasn't a question. He mentioned this the first gathering we had as a yeshiva and kollel together, the inaugural breakfast. He said it was never a matter of if, it was always a matter of when. He was determined that the yeshiva, as we see even today after the passing, has grown. The kollel also has grown, and this was part of the Rosh Yeshiva's vision. It was, again, it was never a question of if, it was always a question of when. How long would it take us to achieve the goal? And day by day, Chazak builds the—

They, they making their best efforts to continue the legacy Rosh Yeshiva wanted. Another big thing the Rosh Yeshiva was huge on that I remember was peace. I wasn't officially Chazak's kollel, kollel Bisnos Aner. Our kollel had a kollel Chomosh Elaya, was the first kollel that I was officially part of. And everything always seemed great. We started with four avreichim, we built to six, and eventually we reached ten. And the achdut we had between the ten of us was very strong, and we owed it all really to the Rosh Yeshiva. I spoke with others afterwards that saw from the side, that experienced other kollels. They said, and these rabbeim told me, this is what the Rosh Yeshiva did for us, probably will never be done again. He באמת glued us together, made us friends, sheva friends. We were in contact with each other until today. And it's a friendly environment. It's not that one is trying to outdo the other. Everything we do is together. We try, we push each other to help each other grow. And this was all due to the Rosh Yeshiva's help. I remember another event that was really close to before the corona period forced the yeshiva to close down and the kollel to close down. Rosh Yeshiva was not doing well. He felt weak, but nonetheless he pushed himself. He gave shiurim to the baalei batim in the morning, gave shiurim to the bachurei yeshiva in the early afternoon, and once or twice a week finished off with a very strong shiur. Not something simple, but really in-depth Gemarot with Rishonim and obviously a tour of Bet Yosef. Everything inside on a very high level. He pushed himself even when he wasn't well to make sure the shiur was given. Again, I haven't seen it in my life, that someone could push himself to such a degree. Even myself, I feel a little sick, phone in, and I'll miss a day, whatever it is. Rosh Yeshiva, I can't remember, I mean, that he ever really took a day off. And mind you, I have to understand, Rosh Yeshiva barely slept, barely ate. I remember speaking with his brother, Rav Avram Wolkin, after the passing of his brother, and he mentioned to me that there were days, like Rosh Yeshiva had a schedule when he wasn't going to sleep, when he was going to sleep, and if on a scheduled night where he expected to sleep, something came up, he'd push himself, davening for people that he had no idea existed. Just, he heard from somebody, Hey, such and such needs a refuah, they're in a bad situation. Rosh Yeshiva dedicated himself, made sure the person was being prayed for. Yes, family, everyone else, but here it's the fact that the person is Jewish, the person, rather, we can say. Rosh Yeshiva made it his business to daven for the person. I remember also, this was right before Rosh Hashanah, before Purim, I approached Rosh Yeshiva about a friend whose wife was diagnosed with cancer, and things were not looking good for the person. Rosh Yeshiva began crying by his car. The first time I mentioned to him, he started praying for her. The second time I mentioned to him, he asked for a little bit more details, and just, again, he has no idea who the person is. I don't think he even knows who the person's husband is. But the fact is a Jew, a Jew was in pain, and it's not just the person is in pain. The family is suffering. The kids are suffering. He be'emet felt it. And connected best that he could, almost like his own family is sick. If you were Jewish, you were on the Rosh Yeshiva's—it was just extra ahavah that he was able to give off. I remember the funniest thing we saw—not funny, but one of the greatest things, really—we saw at the Rosh Yeshiva was, we had a blizzard, I think in our first year in Adas Yosef Chai. There was blizzard-like conditions. It was a few hours, but remember, he's coming in from Lakewood. This isn't from the Kollel Beit Midrash apartment. He was coming in from Lakewood that morning. And for us living here in Queens, we were debating, are we going to come in? We're not going to come in. Rosh Yeshiva probably is not going to come in. Driving conditions in the morning are not safe. The Rosh Yeshiva made it, 10 a.m., for his shiur on time. And, I mean, some of you saw the videos that we released throughout the year. You saw it. I mean, I can't—again, I can't remember a rebbe that, or even myself, again, that would go to such an extent. Rebbe's coming from Lakewood. We drove there once.

For the hachnasas sefer Torah, we went to his house. He invited us, asked us. This was after the Chanukah fire. Most of the family lost their life. The Rosh Yeshiva took it very, very personal. He was not able to function for many days, for many weeks even. And he decided he was going to do a hachnasas sefer Torah to create unity, which really was what the Rosh Yeshiva, a major component of what the Rosh Yeshiva was about, was to unite everybody, Rabbanim, balabatim, bochrim, all alike, all equal, all Jewish. The ahavah that we have for each other should have no end. This is what he tried to implant in us. And I remember traveling that trip. It was myself, Rabbi Elon, Rabbi Nissan, I believe Rabbi Rafael Zvolunov was with us, or he drove on his own. L'maaseh, we had six or seven avreichim that drove from the Queens kollel out to Lakewood, and traffic wasn't too bad. But even with the lack of traffic, we told ourselves in the car, it's like we can't imagine ever doing this again. This would be a one-time thing, and that's it. And I remember Rosh Yeshiva, the first two and a half years that he was part of the kollel and the yeshiva, we can even argue that it was three and a half years because there was a yeshiva for a year before the kollel opened. He was driving in and out from Lakewood back to Queens many times on a daily basis, but he was doing it at least twice a week. The mesirus nefesh he had for us, for the kollel, for the bachurim. For the Baalabatim, again, it's like, it's really like no other. You can't begin to imagine that anyone, anyone can get to where Rosh Yeshiva was. The determination to be there, to make sure if one of us was sick, even for a day, if he noticed one of us wasn't there, he'd make sure that he'd call himself, or he'd have one of the avreichim call on his behalf. If one of us wasn't always with him, one of the avreichim would call on his behalf, pass him the phone, and he'd speak, make sure the person is okay, the family is okay, because stam person doesn't miss. And whether the person was sick, person was fine, Rosh Yeshiva gave his best. We had certain births in the kollel at times. Rosh Yeshiva made it his effort to come to the britot, to come to the house to see the baby when he couldn't go to the britot. Mamash, mamash, mesirut nefesh he dedicated to us. I want to end really thanking the Walkin family. I don't know all of you, but I know a few of you. I got to meet over the years that we were in the yeshiva. Be'emet, the Rebbetzin, thank you so much for allowing us the Rosh Yeshiva for the time that we had him. Words really can't explain how great he is. We did the—I mean, I'm doing the best I can, and I'm sure the other avreichim will do the best they can. But be'emet, we'd like to thank you. I'd like to thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving us the Rosh Yeshiva on a daily basis, being marbitz Torah, helping the community get to the next level and the next and the next and continue to grow. And bezrat Hashem, we should reunite in the future, in the coming days, we should see Mashiach, bimheרה בימינו, amen. We gathered here today on the yahrzeit of my Rebbe, Morenu v'Rabbeinu, ... Rabbi Aaron Walkin. That's all. It's hard to say already, it's been one year since we lost my Rebbe. I would never thought that we would sit here and get together and say some divrei hesped. But since we are all gathered, let's say something that we can walk away with for our own life. One time, a student came into the yeshiva, in Chazak Yeshiva, and he came in and joined Rebbe for a class, for a Chumash shiur. And in the middle of yeshiva, the class, he asked Rebbe, Rebbe, what do you do if your shul has a very bad baal koreh? So Rebbe didn't know the man, the person so well. He came in once or twice, and he told him, Let me tell you something. The greatest thing you can do is to find something positive in this baal koreh, to find something good in this baal koreh. Maybe he's a fast reader. Maybe he's a nice guy. He says, because the most positive thing you can do is to look for positive in the person, to find something nice in him. And that if you focus on something in someone, something positive, you will always do and see amazing things in them. And that's what Rebbe was. Rebbe was a person that always saw positive things in people.

There was recently a sefer that came out by Rav Hoffman, and he writes over there in the name of the sefer Mikubalim, and he says that the Mikubalim say that there are two different types of tzaddikim. There are tzaddikim that are me'irim, and there are tzaddikim that are she'einam me'irim. There are tzaddikim that shine, and there are tzaddikim that do not shine. What is the difference? And he says, tzaddikim that are shining, they always see positive. They only see good things. They're not busy with evil and bad in this world. They cannot see the bad thing. They are called, in lashon of Mikubalim, tzaddikim me'irim. Then there are some tzaddikim that are called she'einam me'irim. There are tzaddikim that unfortunately do see the evil, they deal with it, and they engage with it in the world to try to make the world a better place. There are two types of tzaddikim, but they're not on the same level as tzaddikim sheme'irim. As soon as I read that portion in the sefer, I always thought, wow, this reminds me of who my rebbe was. My rebbe, Rav Aaron Walkin, was such an individual. He was a tzaddik me'ir. He always shined and always saw positivity and good in people. It was impossible for him to see something negative in others. As soon as you would say something about some person, he would always see always good and never ever look at anything bad. And this middah also went to his learning. He always used to tell all his talmidim in yeshiva, You have to be emes. You have to be emes. You have to be able to learn everyone and everything. You cannot be baal shitah. You cannot have agendas. He used to be very, very against having agendas in learning and very bad shitahs in learning, and I learn this one and I don't learn that one, because he always saw positivity. He always saw good in people. He never was able to see anything bad. He used to say, We have to be crazy to learn to say bad things about people. How can you say something bad about people? My Rebbe always, one time in shiur, he said, Moshe Rabbeinu was, the last thing he did before he died was created Arei Miklat. And he said, people who, before they pass away, that's their signature. That's what they leave behind. That's what they are known for, the last thing a person does. And he says, why did Moshe Rabbeinu create Arei Miklat before he died? It's because he cared for other people. He wanted to care for people who kill people by mistake and to be able to have close cities to run away to. Our Rebbe, Rav Wolkin, also, till the last day as he was breathing in this world, he cared for others. He was on the phone with the avreichim in the yeshiva, worried about their Pesach. How are they going to get paid in their paychecks? And that's what he was, this is what he was worried about. The last thing before he left this world was always care for others and care for his talmidim. He always taught us, as his talmidim, to how we should interact with our own talmidim. And he always taught us, you have to love them. You have to love your talmidim no matter who they are, and you have to not only just love them, you have to make sure that they feel it from you, and they appreciate and they feel it from you. And that's what he did. Whenever we came in the approach of our own Wolkin, we always felt the love, and we always felt that we were unique. We always felt like, wow, there's nobody else but me. So no matter how big he was in learning, our Rebbe was always approachable, was always approachable. And he used to sit in the yeshiva, and this person, I used to think, oh my God, he mashamesh big gedolim. He knew, he was able to talk in learning with the biggest gedolim, and he was able to talk in learning on the highest level. And he used to sit, the average bochur, average person used to come and ask him questions and used to engage with him as if he has the whole time in the world. He was nowhere he had to go. He had this, it's just you and me. I have time. You exist. You're in my world. And that's what he did and practiced, and this is what he taught us. This is what we try to do as our own Talmidim. We have a lot of things to learn from our Rebbe during this yahrzeit, and there's a lot, a lot more that can be said, a lot should be said. There should be books written on him, because there, you know, there's so much needs to be said, but the time is very short. And I hope that everybody has something to learn from on this yahrzeit from our Rebbe. It's been an entire year since our dear Rebbe, Harav HaGaon, Harav Aharon Walkin, zatzal, has left us, and it's hard to believe that an entire year has gone by. Just earlier, I was looking at a picture of our dear Rebbe, and I had feelings of, you know, deep emotional feelings, you know, of how much I miss our Rebbe. And there's a lot of eitzah, a lot of advice we used to get from him, and it's unbelievable that an entire year has passed.

Since he is no longer with us. Our dear Rebbe was a talmid chacham. He was a chacham of caliber. He was a charif. He was very sharp in limud, palpelan, amkan, daikan. He had rabbanim, or gedolei olam. And nonetheless, our dear Rebbe decided to be makdish et zmano, to sanctify his time, to give to the Queens Bukharian community. And for close to two decades, he was makdish mizmano hakadosh. He gave over his time to us, his talmidim, his banim, his children. He learned with Rav Belsky. He was very close to Rav Roth zatzal. He was close with Rav Feinstein and many other gedolei olam. And nonetheless, he used to come and teach us Torah in Queens. A little community would come to teach us. This is bivchinat what the Torah says about Moshe Rabbeinu: Vayered Moshe min hahar el ha'am, that Moshe Rabbeinu would finish speaking with HaKadosh Baruch Hu, and then he would come to speak with the people. So too our dear Harav Haron Valkin was a gaon. He was a talmid chacham, and nonetheless he would go min hahar el ha'am. He was an ish pashut, so to speak. What do I mean? He was humble. He was down to earth. He was able to teach talmidim who were not necessarily the sharpest of talmidim. He had talmidim who were very sharp as well, but he was able to teach and relate to any talmid who wanted to learn Torah. Rav Aaron, I remember. He was one of the most loving individuals in the world. The ahavah he had for Am Yisrael was an unprecedented ahavah. It wasn't something you came by every day. He used to cry for Am Yisrael. He used to daven for Am Yisrael. These types of people are not people you come by on a daily basis. You know, I remember there was a man who once came to the beit midrash, and he was upset at something. He walks to the back of the beit midrash and he starts to get very loud. And I turned around. I wanted to see how our Rebbe would handle the situation. And our Rebbe said a few words to him and calmed him down. He relaxed him. He didn't go head to head with him. They didn't clash with him. He just knew how to speak to people in order to get them to calm down. In the end, the man walked away saying, Thank you, kevod harav. Thank you, kevod harav, and he walked away. This was our dear Rebbe. He knew how to speak to people. He knew how to love people. He knew how to give kavod to people, people who were ketanim compared to him. He was able to be mechabed. He was able to give kavod, cholek lahem kavod. And by doing so, he was mekarevan laTorah. You know, the Gemara says in Megillah, when a tzaddik is lost, he's lost his generation. Tzaddik avad l'doro avad. We have to know that he was lost to us, our dear Rebbe. His neshama right now is b'gvoha me'romim. It's in Gan Eden ha'elyon. He's in a very nice place, our Rebbe, I'm sure. He was lost to us. The pasuk says in Yeshayahu, Hatzaddik avad, ve'ein ish שם על לב, that a tzaddik was lost to us, but nobody puts it upon their heart. We just go about our lives like nothing's going on. ואנשי חסד נאספים, ואין מבין. Men of chesed, like our dear Rebbe. He was an ish chesed, to drive three hours from Lakewood to teach his talmidim, to spend four, five nights a week in Queens, away from his family. This is a chesed that you don't come about on a daily basis. אנשי חסד נאספים ואין מבין, says the pasuk in Yeshayahu, כי מפני הרעה נאסף הצדיק. Our dear Rebbe was taken in the midst of a mageifah, and I'm sure he was taken as a magen, as a shield, as a kaparah l'am Yisrael, just like the Mishkan, milashon mashkon, was taken from Am Yisrael in order to protect the Jewish people. Bevadai, our dear Rebbe went as a kaparah l'am Yisrael. And I saw in one of the sefarim hakedoshim, they say one of the highest places in Gan Eden is a person who gives himself up, l'maan haklal, to say, Hashem yitbarach, have mercy on Am Yisrael. Please, you know, take me instead of them. And he was a haganah; he was the shield to us. An entire year has gone by, my dear friends, and we cannot just go about our lives like nothing happened. Our Rebbe was a man who touched all of our lives. He influenced thousands of people. A lot of the young talmidei chachamim in Queens are his talmidim. We have to learn from our Rebbe. His name was Aharon, bivchinat Aharon HaKohen, who was what? Ohev shalom v'rodef shalom, ohev et habriyot umekarvan laTorah. He was a gaon in shalom. He loved shalom.

He was Rodef Shalom. He loved ahavat habriyot. He loved people. Whatever the person looked like, whatever—I've heard people ask him questions. Unbelievable. Never lost his composure, was always answering, you know, me'ahavat Yisrael. He was always able to relate. He was always able to connect, no matter what the person looked like. Could be walking in with ripped jeans and a fancy haircut, was able to relate to him. He was able to be, you know, sometimes jokey with his talmidim. He would make a lot of jokes to his talmidim to show them that he's like our Abba. He was close to us. There was a lot of ahavah. It wasn't, I am your rebbe and therefore I'm going to show you my authority. Has v'shalom. He was very easygoing. B'vechinat Aharon HaKohen. Why? Because the ikar by him was ahavat Yisrael, and the ikar by him, by our dear rebbe, was l'karvam laTorah. My dear friend, we have to take this lesson to heart. We also have to learn from our dear rebbe that sometimes we have opportunities to be makpid on someone, to let go of the hakpadot, to let go, to be ohavim echad et ha'sheni, to love each other, u'mekarvan laTorah, and to bring each other closer to Torah. And I'll tell you guys one more thing. You know, our dear rebbe was taken from us, but bevadai he's melitz yosher l'maalah. He's davening for us. I personally have something very substantial, be'ezrat Hashem, that's taking place on his yom ha'petirah, and I know bevadai it's because of the tefillot of our dear rebbe, and yehi zichro baruch. Tehei nishmato tzerurah bitzror hachayim, amen v'amen. Our dear rebbe, we miss you. First of all, I feel very, very privileged to be here today. The real truth is that if it wasn't for Rav Walkin, if it wasn't for Rebbe— I wouldn't be alive, not just spiritually, also physically. I had my own introduction to Judaism not so long ago. And when I came to Queens, I was looking to move out of my career as a therapist, and I was hoping to go to yeshiva to learn for the first time in my late twenties, almost thirty. And it felt like a pipe dream for me. But when I met Yaniv from Chazak, and he saw me speak for the past year or so in the Beit Knesset that we were doing Shabbat and different tefilot in, he told me that his rabbi that he grew up with is coming back to Queens, and he would be starting yeshiva here. And he was amazing, and he was special, and he was unique, and he really encouraged me to meet him. And he said, We'll see how it goes. So I came in the very next day, I believe. I met with the rabbi, and we had an amazing conversation, and this very special conversation for me. It's a conversation which he spoke about many, many times since then, and it was a huge source of pride for him. That is that when we spoke, he told me, What is it that you want to do? So I said, The truth is, I want to become a rabbi. So when he was asking me about my experience with learning, I told him the real truth is I've never been to yeshiva. I've never learned Gemara. I've never learned halacha. I don't know how to speak Hebrew. I don't know how to read Hebrew. I don't know Chumash. I don't know Navi. I don't really know any of the traditional sources in the Torah. I never went to school, and I was never educated in these things. But I want to be a rabbi, and I asked him, Is it possible? So he looked at me and he took me from the hand, and he said, David, do you want to? And I said, Yeah, I do. So he said, So let's do it. And that was really the beginning of a huge moment for my life. That was really a watershed moment in my life, that for the first time in my life, I was trying to do something that was different, that was outside of the box, especially from the way that I grew up, that my family and all my friends that I grew up with are completely secular. And to go to school for six years for something, to spend most of my life working towards that goal, then obviously having an incredible experience in the land of Israel, getting married to a religious Jewish woman, having my own epiphany to realize that Hashem exists and that the reason I am the way I am is because I'm Jewish, and then to realize that really the best way that I could help people is not in a clinical setting and not in a therapist office, but to be able to teach people the truth, which is the Torah, and to be able to share the beginning of that journey with Rebbe, who for the first time in my life, besides maybe my wife and my parents.

Really believed in me. And this was despite having no traditional background in learning, and no reason on paper necessarily that it would feel like a good fit. But Rebbe had an inherent belief in every Jewish person, and no matter what they had been through in their life and what they were going through, no matter what their level of education was in Judaism, or no matter how little they knew, no matter how religious their family or how religious their family wasn't, Rebbe didn't really look at anybody differently. He saw every single person as inherently valuable. This is something that I revered about the Rebbe, and I learned a lot from him, was the amount of respect that he had for humanity, that he had for the human being, that he had for the human experience. And this was something that truly transformed my life. Obviously, now since then, Baruch Hashem, in only a few years, the Rebbe gave me smicha. And obviously that moment for me in my life was very, very, very powerful. I cried like a baby, as anybody who was there knew. I shared a big hug with the Rebbe, and it was not long after that he actually passed away. So, you know, it's very, very, very unfortunate, and I always am going to have a brokenheartedness about the fact that I didn't get to spend a lot more time drawing in the waters of my very great Rebbe. But he fulfilled his promise to me, and I don't think it's a coincidence by any chance. And I know it wasn't just with me that in the few years that he was in Queens with us, working with Chazak to do this beautiful yeshiva and to create a space in which the Bucharian community that I have been adopted by have a real chance to know Hashem, have a real chance to live a good life, to live a happy life, to live a life filled with spirituality as its ikar, as the main foundation, and have everything else funneling around that. The Rebbe was the whole show. The Rebbe was the entire locus. He was the entire center of spiritual energy and power in this community. And I think he affected everybody that way. You know, after he passed away, speaking to other guys in the kollel that I had the merit to be with, other people in the community as well, just to see how much he impacted every single person on their own personal level, on their own individual level, that they felt that he had changed their life, that that was the basic premise that we all came away with, was the Rebbe changed my life. And we were all so different. And he knew how to speak to everybody. He knew how to help everybody. He knew how to lift up everyone. And this was one of the things that made the Rebbe so unique and so special. A story that I'd like to share, which I don't think I got the chance to, was one of the most powerful moments in my life. I was in the middle of a very, very oppressive and destructive depressive episode. And I'm not talking about I have a little bit of sadness, and I have a lack of energy, and I'm having a hard time getting going, getting out of bed. And it was mamash a serious, serious, serious clinical depressive episode, which led me to seeing many, many therapists, seeing many psychiatrists, being on many regimens of medication, some less potent, some much more potent, some, you know, they don't even give to people anymore, and even having to resort to a therapeutic technique that they barely use anymore because it's so dangerous, in the form of electric convulsive therapy, or electric shock therapy, like they call it. And I'm only saying that just to show that I was very, very depressed. And a lot of that had to do with the things that I learned growing up, which the Rebbe was trying so hard to internalize within my heart, a new understanding of life that's based on faith, that's based on simplicity, that's based on joy, that's based on emunah in Hashem, which was something that I didn't have, that I wanted, that I yearned for. But as has become very clear since then, that the main cause of the depression itself was my lack of belief in Hashem and my belief that I was the—

Cause of everything that takes place in my life. And obviously it's clear from our Torah masters, from our sages, from Chazal, that this is the greatest cause of psychological, spiritual, emotional distress: to think that you're in control of everything. And the Rebbe was busy every single day, showing me I wasn't, thank God, in the best way possible. But the transition from going to that time of feeling like I was, and having 25 years worth of that information locked into me, whether it's from society, whether it's from family, whether it's from school, whether it's from myself, whether it's from media, you know, it's a very difficult thing to change all of those beliefs, to transform those beliefs to something more true, to something more authentic, to something more humble and genuine. It's hard. And the Rebbe had a hard task, you know, to have a person who was a self-proclaimed atheist his whole life, debating with different people about whether or not God existed and trying to show them, unfortunately, נעשה שלום, that he didn't. And to take that same person and to give him the tools and the faith, the belief in himself, the belief in Hashem, the belief in the Jewish people, to do the opposite now, to go out and to teach people about Hashem, to teach people that He loves you, to teach people that He cares about you, to teach people that He wants the best for you, to try and show people אהבת תורה, אהבת ישראל, אהבת השם, and to love oneself. And the Rebbe did that. But in the midst of that, there was obviously a lot of bumps in the road. This one was a big one. I was very, very, very depressed. I was having trouble doing anything, but I would just get to yeshiva so I could sit down. Nobody knew about it except for Rebbe. He would speak to me every day on the side to ask me how I was doing. And one day he gave over a dvar Torah, and it was so powerful. And the Rebbe spoke about there's a midrash, and the malachim, before creation, they were there with Hashem. And as history is going on, they're, so to speak, they're with Him at each step. All of a sudden, Rabbi Akiva, who, not I guess unsimilar to me, also didn't grow up so frum, also didn't grow up so connected to Hashem, also didn't have the highest opinion of rabbis and of spiritual leaders and of religion. And ultimately he had a big transformation, and he ended up becoming the leader of the generation and the whole source for why we have Torah even now to this day, the Moshe Rabbeinu of the oral Torah, some would say. But he ended up having a very, very, very horrifying end to his life in which he was flayed alive by the Romans. And the malachim, who normally don't speak out because they just do whatever Hashem wants, but in this time they were so moved by what was happening and they were so confused how a person could literally have such a transformation in his life, to go from such darkness to light, to choose to humble himself despite 40 years of saying and thinking otherwise, to then go learn with little children in school, Aleph Bet, and then ultimately become the leader of thousands and thousands and thousands of men who would end up becoming You know, the leaders in history of Judaism, of teaching about Hashem, how he could have such a horrific end to his life, that that's the benefit, that that's the reward for living such a life. And they spoke to Hashem about it. And the Rebbe said that Hashem told them to be quiet, to have shtikah, to have silence. But the Rebbe said it doesn't really make so much sense. What is it, Hashem is mad? He's mad at the malachim? It sounds like Hashem, he's getting angry. It's coming from like almost a lack of maturity. How could he create something and then be so angry at the thing he created? It doesn't even have free will. The whole story is bizarre, the Rebbe says. But the Rebbe said that there's another way of understanding this, and that is that you should be quiet not because I'm angry at you, but because the only way to actually experience why things are taking place in your life, the only way to experience that why Hashem is doing is good, is to have the humility to be silent in the face of adversity. That when trouble strikes, not to think that you have to or you need to understand everything that takes place, and that really, like Hashem says in the Midrash after.

That if you're not silent, that I'm going to start the whole world over again, which again seems like another threat from Hashem. But the Rebbe again says it doesn't really make much sense until you understand that he's simply saying to them that there's no way for you to understand what I do with my children unless you were with me from the very beginning before creation, because that's where they come from. And if you're not with me from then, every single step until right now, the death of Rabbi Akiva, you can't understand why this is good. Good for him, good for his family, good for the Jewish people, good for humanity. And at that moment, something clicked with me, that for the first time in my life, I felt permission that I don't have to understand why I've been through what I've been through in my life. That I don't have to understand the tragedies that I've had, the depression that I've experienced, the horrors that I have faced, the hell that I lived through, and that that feeling that I must understand actually comes from a very, very deep, very, very subtle arrogance that I should understand. And I remember I left the room after he gave the Dvar Torah. I went into my car and I just started crying, but it wasn't a crying of sadness. It was a crying of relief that for the first time in my life, I could finally say, I don't understand, and it's okay. And I shouldn't understand. It doesn't make sense to. And to thank Hashem, and to believe it's good even though I don't experience it yet. And that for me was an incredible moment. But I was so emotional from it because it was literally over 20 years of always trying to understand everything. And it was exhausting, and it was tiring, and it was emotionally spending, and it just completely killed the quality of my life. And this lesson that the Rebbe was always trying to give me of faith and simplicity, to see it in reality, to have it finally hit me, to enter into my heart. I walked back into the yeshiva, and the Rebbe saw that I was different. I went to the back of the room instead of being close like I usually am. I wasn't learning like I usually do. I was just sitting in the back and thinking to myself. And like is often the case, the Rebbe knew how I was feeling without me saying, or how anybody was feeling without them saying that something was off. He had a very high, what they would call EQ, emotional intelligence, and he saw that I was off. And he waved over to me. I said, No, no, no, I'm okay, but I wasn't, obviously. And he said, No, no, no, come here. So I went over to him, and at that moment, I don't know what came over me, but I think it was literally 20 years worth of baggage that just poured out of me, and I just started to cry and cry and cry on the Rebbe's shoulder. And I remember this moment, and something I take with me my whole life. There are many times when a person conveys something to you, a struggle that they've been through, a hardship that they're going through, and we're quick to respond. We're quick to give an answer as to why this is happening, how to make it better. And at this very critical moment in my life, that I was crying from everything that had taken place previously, the Rebbe did something that was so much more powerful than that, that was so much more transformative than that, that was so much more healing than that. And that was that he just let me cry on his shoulder, and he hugged me. And I still remember it. It seared into my mind, his shoulder, how it felt, his warmth, the hug, and he didn't move. And I kept crying for minutes and minutes. And he's the Rosh Yeshiva. I mean, everybody else is around learning. He's teaching every hour. He doesn't stop. And he's not moving. He's just letting me cry on him. And I wanted to stop, but I couldn't. And he didn't say anything. He just held me. And that was a very powerful moment in my life. And that's something that I'm always going to take with me, the concept of just holding a space for somebody, not trying to give an answer to everything, which the Rebbe didn't claim to have, nor do you need to. And that was what the Rebbe showed, that you could simply be a humble, simple...

Believer in Hashem, and through your care and respect and love for every Jew, that just to be that itself is what heals, and not to need to do anything else besides that. And that was a very beautiful moment for me, and that was a very powerful moment for me. That's something that I would love to speak about and to convey to everybody who will listen, of the power of the Rebbe, that he had many different tools, he had many different means for helping everybody at their own level. This was one for me. There were many things that I wanted in my life to do, to feel, that maybe theoretically I wanted to or I hoped to, but I simply never saw it in real life. And the Rebbe was a living manifestation of all those things, whether it was leadership, whether it was simplicity, whether it was his self-sacrifice for the Jewish people, for the learning of Torah, for the teaching of Torah, his love of mesiras nefesh for his family, for his students who were really like his children, his capacity to care for other Jews and to hold a space for each and every one of them, his nonstop effort. These are things that I'm going to take with me for the rest of my life. And after he passed away, they have been burning in my heart ever since. And everything that I've done since then, and everything that I will do, be'ezrat Hashem, for the rest of my life, they all have the Rebbe's imprints all over it, and they're all in his merit. And I just want to say thank you to Hashem, and I want to say thank you to the Rebbe's family. That they gave us a malach, that they gave us a living angel to be able to mamash save us, to help us, and not in a way that we would always need him, but that he could literally give us everything that was inside of him in just a few years, and to put us in a position for the rest of our lives to live beautiful lives ourselves personally, and to give that over to everyone around us. There's no words for this. This is not going to do anything justice to the Rebbe, but you have to do whatever you can. So I just want to say thank you to his family for being so strong to allow the Rebbe to come to us and to be by us. The ripple effects from that will take place until, bezrat Hashem, the Mashiach comes. And I know for a fact that Rav Aharon Vauken shlita, zecher tzaddik livracha, is praying for all of us and is bringing the redemption much, much, much closer, and that we should see it bimheira v'yameinu, in the merit of the great tzaddik, Rav Vauken. Thank you so much. What can I say about Rav Vauken? What a giant of a man, such a big, unimaginable person that influenced me, everybody else, in such a special way that is unimaginable. There was so many stories we could have from such a giant man that if you didn't know who he was, if you didn't see him in person, you would think that you heard stories of a rabbi who was a few hundred years old, who was such a great man, who does so many things. You would never believe there's somebody in our generation who's so, so awesome, somebody like that exists nowadays. It's unbelievable. When I first met Rabbi Walkin, I was 18 years old, coming back from Israel, and I didn't know where to go. I didn't know what to do. Went to yeshiva to go to, should I go to work? So one of my friends says, like, you know, there's a great rabbi, Ashkenazi rabbi, Litvak. I was like, Oh, Litvak. I was like, he's a rabbi, but I don't know, whatever, I want more Sephardic style, halacha, everything. He's like, No, he knows everything. I was like, Really? He knows? I was like, I have to see this. So I walk in. Walk into the first day of the yeshiva, and I see him. He's giving a shiur to the balabatim there, and he stops in the middle and he looks at me, and he gives me such a big smile the way he always did to everybody, and he gives me such a big smile and says, Shalom aleichem. And he said, What's your name? I was like, Yonatan. I was like, but you know, Rosh Yeshiva, you're recognizing who I am? I was like, Wow. This is a rabbi who cares. He actually noticed me. I was just not somebody who just went on, and he went on with his guys. He actually noticed everybody, and I saw through the years I was with him, this wasn't just a small sketch he did. He did this for every single person, every single human being who walked through the door of the yeshiva. He would give this big genuine smile and be like, Shalom aleichem. What's your name? He would talk to him, make him feel special, as if he would make you feel so good as if you knew him for years. And it's something that I was always astonished by. Just to view our rabbi, just to view Rabbi Walkin, was something that penetrated me to such a core that, in fact...

Impacts me for my life and impacts me for my children's life and will impact every single decision I make, because I knew such a great man, such a great rabbi, such a great rebbe that's tremendously missed, because there's nobody like him. There's nobody like him. Take his place. There's nobody like him who could influence others like as he did. But he taught us and he instilled into something to all of us, that we need to be more respectful to one another. We need to be more nicer. We need to be more happier. Always be happy, always be just learning and connected to Hashem, and things will work out. As the rabbi always tells us, he's like, just sit down and learn and be happy. That's all you need to be. Be normal. Sit down and learn. You don't need anything else. And if we think you need anything else, you're meshugas. You're not doing it right, because you have to be happy. And He will know if you're not happy. You'll always see me going to yeshiva, He'll see something's wrong. What's wrong? It's like, you have to be happy or get kicked out. You have to be happy. This yeshiva is part of happiness. It's like, if you have no smile, you can't be here. So such an amazing thing, such a rabbi, and he'll be tremendously missed. Everybody in this community, everybody around the world, have not had a big impact from him, felt his holiness, and knew that he was something beyond this world. He was a soul that was beyond our generation, and we had such a zechut to be with him, to see him. Bezrat Hashem, we should all make him happy in Shamayim, and he's up there learning away, helping us every good way. Thank you. You've just experienced another Torah class, brought to you by TorahAnytime.com.