A NOVEL Rabbinic Praise for Yedidya

This novel, in addition to being an enjoyable and inspiring read, will also be a way to imbue oneself with vital Torah lessons for life. —Rabbi Zev Leff, shlita

I am certain that, with Hashem’s help, this book will provide support and encouragement to those who read it, and will shine light and health upon them. —Rabbi Shlomo Yedidya Zafrani, shlita

Rabbi Daniel Travis is once again providing the Jewish people with unique insights into emunah. I believe Yedidya will prove to be an instant classic. —Rabbi Daniel Glatstein, shlita

Especially in these very challenging times, Yedidya delivers real chizzuk in emunah, while still remaining an enjoyable, easy-to-read novel. —Rabbi David Schoonmaker, shlita

Readers Praise Yedidya From readers of the serial edition Thank you, thank you, and again thank you! This was the most inspiring and best book I’ve ever read! I learned so many lessons for life!

The lessons ofemunah and humility were illustrated more vividly than in any sefer I’ve ever learned. A huge yasher koach to Rabbi Travis and to Mrs. Elbinger for pulling off the impossible. You’ve set a new precedent in Jewish fiction. Reading Yedidya was life-changing for me. I think we all have a bit of Yedidya in us and can learn from him how to overcome our own stumbling blocks that get in the way of our spiritual growth.

Yedidya was a breathtaking experience. We are all so disappointed it’s over! It was extremely inspiring and has changed our entire outlook on life.

Reading Yedidya has given me lots of food for thought. It would take me a book double the length of this book to write everything I learned from it. Thank you for an amazing, inspiring book!

This book is a revolution. It sure is a cutting-edge tool to engrave the concepts and hashkafos onto one’s mind and heart. I am awed by this whole project and very appreciative.

Yedidya accomplished something that a sefer on emunah can’t — it relates to the reader on a personal level. Reading about Yedidya’s real, raw struggles and emotions, the back-and-forth between hardship and acceptance, is what makes it real.

I thoroughly enjoyed this wonderful novel/sefer. The lifelike charac- ters kept me company during many lonely times. I also feel I have gained much from the subliminal Torah outlooks on difficulties and growth contained in this exceptional work.

Thank you so, so much for this amazing book that has carried me through so much! I honestly feel that I have grown through reading Yedidya, which I cannot say about any other novel.

This book helped me tremendously during this really difficult period. I am going to be reading it again for sure and I would like to try to read a little to my family each week. Based on the Torah Series "Thanking Hashem When Things Look Bad" BY RABBI DANIEL YAAKOV TRAVIS

ISBN: 978-1-68025-157-9

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. No part of this publication may be translated, reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the copyright holders.

To contact the authors, please e-mail [email protected] or visit YedidyaBook.com.

Cover design and typesetting: Chaya Murik

Distributed by: Feldheim Publishers POB 41363, Jerusalem, Israel 208 Airport Executive Park Nanuet, NY, 10954

Printed in Israel

Translation of Approbation by Rabbi Shlomo Yedidya Zafrani, shlita

27th of Iyar 5780 To my dear and respected friend Rabbi Daniel Yaakov Travis, shlita, who has done so much to teach Torah scholars and train them to be great in Torah and fear of Heaven, who also speaks to the hearts of baalei teshuvah, to open a ray of light and to show them the straight, correct path of our holy Torah. With this purpose in mind, he wrote wonderful books of respon- sa about the unique situations that baalei teshuvah encounter. He showed in his books how to address those complex problems and how to find solutions in the Torah way. Not only is he a rabbi and Torah teacher to many, answering halachic questions for all who ask, but he is like a merciful father to them, counselling them through difficult personal situations, giving them support and encouragement when they are struggling to overcome difficulties on the path to teshuvah. And now he has decided to do a great thing, to create a book that opens the gates of hope, faith, and trust in situations of calamity, anxiety, and fear, and to fulfill the verse “Blessed is the man who trusts in Hashem,” as it is written of our Father, our King, “Hashem brings good to those who hope in Him, to the soul that searches for Him.” [Rabbi Travis] teaches that even in very difficult circumstances, when a person can feel it is hard to have faith, nevertheless one shouldn’t stray after forces that try to weaken him. Rather he should fulfill the verse “Turn to Hashem, be strong and courageous in your heart, turn to Hashem.” I am certain that, with Hashem’s Help, this book will provide support and encouragement to those who read it, and it will shine light and health upon them. With Torah blessings, Shlomo Yedidya Zafrani שלמה ידידיה זעפראני רו"כ ואב"ד לממונות "כתר תורה - בית וגן", ורב ק"ק אהל משה הר-נוף, ודק"ק "אבי עזרי" קרית ספר, ודק"ק "אהל יעקב", ו"מגן אברהם" בית שמש

בס"ד כ"ז אייר מ"ב למטמוני"ם תש"פ

מכתב ברכה

לידי"נ ומכובדי הגאון הרב דניאל טרביס שליט"א, אשר ידיו רב לו בהרבצת תורה לאברכים ת"ח להכשירם

להיות גדולי תורה ויראה. וגם לרבות להרנין לב בעלי תשובה לפתוח לפניהם קרן אורה ולהראותם את הדרך הישרה

והנכונה מתוך ספר הישר תורתינו הקדושה. לצורך זה חיבר חיבורים נפלאים בשאלות ההלכתיות והמעשיות אשר

נתקלים בהם בעלי תשובה. והראה בספריו היאך להתמודד בצורה הנכונה וההלכתית עם אותם בעיות לא פשוטות

ולמצוא את פתרונן בדרכה של תורה.

ועל הכל כי לא הסתפק להיות רב מרביץ תורה לעדרים ומשיב תשובות לשואלים, אלא להיות להם אב רחום למצוא

מזור ותרופה למכתם, ולתת תמיכה וסעד לקשיים המיוחדים שנאלצים להתמודד עמהם בדרך חזרתם בתשובה.

ועתה איוותה נפשו דבר טוב להעלות על ספר פתיחת שערי תקוה אמונה ובטחון בפני מצבים של מצוקה או חרדה

ופחדים ולקיים בעצמם "ברוך הגבר אשר יבטח בהם והיה ה' מבטחו", כי אבינו מלכנו נאמר בו "טוב ה' לקוויו

לנפש תדרשנו". ללמד דאף אם בעת המצוקה יכול לחוש האדם כי קשה לו לקוות, מ"מ אל לו להתפתות ליצרו

המנסה להחלישו להרפותו, אלא יקיים בעצמו "קוה אל ה' חזק ויאמץ לבך וקוה אל ה' ".

בטוחני כי בעזהי"ת ספרו זה ישמש סעד ומזור לנצרכים אליו, ובס"ד יזכה ויתבדרון שמעתתיה בבי מדרשא מתוך

בריות גופא ונהורא מעליא אכי"ר.

ביקרא דאורייתא שלמה ידידיה זעפראני

רח' שאולזון 31/46 הר-נוף ירושלם טל. 3146/24//2 One

one Chapter One

edidya wasn’t sure at first what woke him so abruptly, gasping for air as if underwater. All seemed peaceful in the darkened yeshiva dorm room, illuminated by the eerie yellow light that streamed through the Ywindow from the streetlamp just beyond. “Atah hareisa ki Hashem…” He found himself slowly whispering these words. For some reason, they rolled off his tongue, familiar as Shema Yisrael. They sounded like a garbled pasuk. A remnant of his dream. His alarm clock told him it was just past five thirty a.m. The fan next to him whirled, giving some relief from the sweltering night in Jerusalem. He could make out the sleeping forms of Oppenheim and Mirsky in their beds across the room. He rolled over to the cooler side of the bed, seeking sleep once again. But as soon as he closed his eyes, the words thundered out of his dream: ַא ָּתה ָהְר ֵא ָת ָלַד ַעת ִּכי ה’ ּהוא ָה ֱא ִ-לֹקים ֵאין עוֹ ד ִמ ְל ַב ּדוֹ You have been shown, in order to know, that the Lord, He is G-d; there is nothing other than Him.

Yedidya found himself saying this famous pasuk out loud, complete with the sacred Names of Hashem. Now he was instantaneously awake,

Chapter One | 13 his heart pounding, his skin tingling. He sat up and grabbed his glasses from the ledge next to his mattress. As his eyes adjusted to the predawn gloom, his bedside table came into focus. The entire surface was covered with neat towers of sefarim. At the top of the pile was a new sefer, never opened. He had received it as a gift from Eli just a few hours earlier when they went out to celebrate their shared birthday. On that day, the fourth of Tammuz, Yedidya turned twenty-two years old. He had gone with Eli only reluctantly. He had not yet finished his learning targets for the week, and he hated to start a new year of his life behind schedule. He had hoped to spend the night catching up. But Eli was his oldest friend, and probably his only real friend. When they had been kids back in Far Rockaway, they had celebrated their birthdays together with ball games in the park, or a trip to Milk Maven’s ice-cream parlor. Even though they were now grown men charting their own paths in different yeshivas in Jerusalem, some things don’t change. Yedidya would never have gone out for his birthday had Eli not turned up in the beis midrash that evening, unexpected and unannounced. “Tonight’s the night, Didya,” said Eli, in a voice loud enough to make all the surrounding guys look up. “We’re going out to eat the biggest burger in Jerusalem!” Yedidya was torn between deep ties of loyalty and a yearning for the safe harbor of his sefarim. The deciding factor, however, was the way his fellow students stared at Eli, whose biceps were distinctly chiseled beneath his T-shirt sleeves, his hair gelled to a sharp point at the front, and his black velvet yarmulke surfing the carefully combed waves. He was not the typical guy the elite students of Rabbi Bregger’s yeshiva spent their free time with. Yedidya could only think of one way to get him out of there fast. “I’ll just get my hat and jacket,” he said quickly. “Goes without saying,” said Eli. “Meet me outside in eighty-seven seconds or I’m going after you.”

14 | Yedidya At a popular burger joint in Geula, Eli ordered a double lamb burger, fries, and a Coke. Yedidya, after some consideration, decided to go for a plate of French fries. During the meal they didn’t talk much, as Eli’s mouth was full and Yedidya was savoring his first real fries in almost a year. They were good, but he still left a third of them untouched. “This reminds me of old times,” said Eli, eyeing the leftovers on Yedidya’s tray. “Remember we once went out for pizza in Brooklyn and I ate almost the entire pie and you gave me a whole talk about how overeating is animalistic.” Eli chuckled softly. “We must have been sixteen.” Yedidya considered this memory, a serious expression on his face. “You mean it’s been six whole years since I last gave you that lecture? My game must be slipping.” Eli burst into loud laughter, and Yedidya laughed along with him. It was so good to be with a friend. It wasn’t like that at yeshiva. Since he hadn’t received the most serious Torah education back in New York, he had learned like crazy for years to gain entrance to Rabbi Bregger’s yeshiva. Almost a year in, he knew that some of his fellow students thought of him as a typical “Harry.” That was their term for the guys who had grown up in more open homes but moved on to serious yeshivas, and who, in their opinion, took their religiosity a drop too seriously. Yedidya chafed at the stereotype and their occasional eye rolls and sideways glances. In truth, most of the guys were okay. They respected Yedidya as a serious learner and left him alone. Even so, he felt so agonizingly tense around them that he could never think of a word to contribute to their casual banter, never mind to crack a joke. During meals in the dining room, he usually put in his earphones and took out his pocket Mishnayos, making use of the time to listen to his audio memorization program. After their meal, Yedidya and Eli spoke as they walked through the narrow alleys behind Geula. They passed small children still out playing

Chapter One | 15 even though it was way past bedtime, layers of street notices peeling off the weathered Jerusalem-stone buildings, and illuminated signs entic- ing passersby into exclusive boutiques lodged in someone’s basement. Eli spoke about his excitement to begin dating, and surprised Yedidya with the news that he was heading back to New York the following day for this very reason. “I was supposed to stay in Jerusalem until the end of the year but I’m too restless. I’m already enrolled in one of those summer college courses for yeshiva guys back in New York. Just between you and me,” said Eli, leaning closer, “I already have a first date set for next Thursday. Girl sounds awesome. Next year, my birthday’s going to be candlelight and steak with my kallah.” “Im yirtzeh Hashem,” said Yedidya, swallowing hard. He hoped that Eli, who hadn’t exactly made the most of his yeshiva years, wouldn’t have his confidence crushed in shidduchim. “May it be with hatzlachah.” “What about you?” asked Eli. “Have you started thinking about…you know?” “Actually, no. I haven’t given it much thought.” “Come on, you’re lying.” Yedidya looked down at his well-polished shoes. Eli was correct. Yedidya knew what he wanted in a wife. “What I mean is,” Yedidya said, “that I haven’t taken any practical steps toward making it happen.” “Aren’t your parents asking?” “Not exactly,” said Yedidya. “My mother spent the last year caught up in my sister’s wedding, and now she’s totally preoccupied because Tamar’s expecting and having a hard time. Actually, she’s arriving in Israel any day to help her.” “B’sha’ah tovah. And your father?” “He doesn’t take an interest in those things.” There was an awkward silence. Fearing that Eli might ask more questions about his parents, Yedidya changed the subject too hastily. “Right now, I’m more focused on another plan. Something that’s a real dream for me.”

16 | Yedidya “Oh really,” said Eli, keenly interested. “What’s the story?” Now Yedidya was in a bind. Should he really tell Eli about his top-secret plans? He slowed to a stop and they both sat down on the steps in front of a small house facing the alleyway. “Come on,” prodded Eli. “Spill!” Warming to Eli’s interest, he found himself talking about his special project. He was writing a short sefer exploring a unique perspective on Rashi’s commentary on the Gemara. For the past year, he had spent countless late-night hours typing on an old laptop in a storeroom on the basement floor of the yeshiva. As his sefer started to come together, he became hopeful that it was something special. Just three days earlier he had handed over a printout of the first installment to his Rosh Yeshiva. It was the first time he’d shown it to anyone, and he was both nervous and excited to receive feedback. “Wow,” said Eli, smoothing his wavy hair, which was in dire need of a trim before his big date next Thursday. “Impressive. And intense.” “Yes, it’s intense. You know me.” “But what about getting married?” “What about knowing kol haTorah kulah?” said Yedidya, fire in his voice. “Some guys act like that’s not even a mitzvah.” “What about chilling?” said Eli, with a chuckle. “I’m not against chilling,” said Yedidya. “But no one’s going to claim that it’s the road to greatness.” “Hey, I told you I want to be able to say that I used to play Lego with the gadol hador, but I hope that hasn’t gone to your head. I’m not sure the road to greatness starts with locking yourself in a basement to write sefarim. You’re better off getting married ASAP and taking out the trash whenever your wife asks.” Eli’s words were said playfully, but they nevertheless sliced into Yedidya like daggers, aggravating his deepest insecurities. Yedidya was almost about to blurt out the rest of his plans but was distracted by a large man walking by, tzitzis over his shirt. They watched him toss an oversized trash bag into the green dumpster at the entrance to the alleyway.

Chapter One | 17 Eli burst into uproarious laughter. “That is freaky timing! I just said that!” Yedidya forced a smile, reminding himself that Eli was a joker who loved to needle him. As he willed himself to relax, he became aware of their surroundings. The stone steps they sat on led up to an open doorway. They noticed for the first time that it was the entrance to a small bookstore. Though it was past eleven, the lights were on and it was open. “Let’s go in,” said Eli. “I’ll buy you a birthday present.” The store was a single large room. There were sefarim lining the shelves all the way to the ceiling, which looked about nine feet high. For a moment, Yedidya felt as though he’d been transported to an earlier era of oil lamps and moveable type, but then he snapped back into focus, noticing that the store was just dimly lit and particularly crammed and disorganized. The piles of books on jam-packed shelving, tables, and benches made it hard to move around, and probably impossible to find anything. Behind a small counter sat a man with a long graying beard, his head bent over a sefer. He did not look up as they carefully eased through the store. “Excuse me,” said Eli, confident despite his shaky Hebrew. “I want to buy a book for my friend.” “What are you looking for?” the man answered in a deep scratchy voice, lifting his eyes from his sefer and giving them a welcoming smile. “I’m not sure,” said Eli. “My friend wants to know about the secrets of greatness. Have you got a book about that?” Yedidya cringed. “I think this is the one you mean.” The disinterested salesman lifted a book from right next to him on the counter. It was bound in leather-look crimson and was embossed in ornate gold letters with the Hebrew words Razei HaOlam — The Secrets of the Universe. “It’s full of inspiring stories. It’s the latest bestseller.” “I’m sure my friend read that one already,” said Eli. “Now he’s looking for the secrets of greatness that are really a secret.”

18 | Yedidya This finally drew the attention of the storekeeper, who gave an amused glance at Eli and Yedidya. Looking back at him, Yedidya saw a classically attired Yerushalmi Yid in his mid-sixties with bushy white eyebrows that still held some traces of red from his younger days. The man edged around the counter and slowly climbed a stepstool next to an overloaded bookshelf. He ran his thumb over several volumes before pulling one out by its spine. Its simple gray cloth binding was dusty. With no further comment, the bookseller handed it to Eli, who paid for it. Not wanting to appear ungracious, Yedidya then bought Eli a copy of Razei HaOlam. While Eli leaned against the counter to write inside the gray sefer, Yedidya opened the cover of the volume in his hands and stared at the pristine white paper lining inside. “A pen?” said the store owner, offering a plastic blue ballpoint. Yedidya took it and began to draw a caricature on the page, his face growing warm knowing that the old man was watching him. The picture showed Eli triumphantly reaching the summit of a mountain composed entirely of stuffed trash bags, clutching two more such bags to his chest like the Ten Commandments. He had not drawn in such a long time, but he knew Eli would love it. “May Hashem fulfill all the desires of your heart for the good,” he wrote in Hebrew, before signing and dating the inscription. When it was done, he leaned down to blow on the page to make sure the ink was dry. When he straightened himself, he found the storekeeper looking at the picture with unabashed interest. “It’s good,” he said. Yedidya thanked him absently and then fled the stuffy store, finding relief in the Jerusalem night breeze. Eli joined him outside soon after. “Happy twenty-second birthday, bro,” said Eli, giving him a hug along with his gift. “Don’t open it until you get home.” Yedidya wondered if the next time he’d see Eli would be among a crush of rowdy revelers at his wedding, and if they’d ever talk again like they had that night. Yedidya couldn’t comprehend why Eli had

Chapter One | 19 remained such a loyal friend after all that time. There was a time in elementary school when he had helped Eli get by scholastically, but that was many years earlier. By the time Yedidya got back to the yeshiva, it was almost midnight. He intended to head straight back to the beis midrash. He wouldn’t be the only guy learning hard in Rabbi Bregger’s yeshiva at that hour. But when he reached the double swinging doors, he found that his feet continued on right past them. With a glance to check that no one was around, he walked downstairs to the basement and headed down the hallway until he reached the familiar door. He noiselessly turned the doorknob and flipped on the light switch. The small room was crammed with broken shtenders and dusty boxes of old sefarim, but one corner housed a meticulously clean narrow table that served as Yedidya’s desk. He moved to reach up to the top of the metal shelving to grab his laptop computer in its black case, but then he remembered that he wouldn’t find it there. He’d taken it upstairs a few days earlier so he could print the first installment of his sefer, and it was now nestled safely in his suitcase under his bed. Yedidya sighed. It was better this way, as he was too distracted to write anyway. Instinctively, he knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep either. Eli’s words kept running through his head, jarring him anew each time he replayed them. He went back upstairs and slipped out of the yeshiva. He began walking briskly down the hill through the Beis Yisrael neighborhood behind Meah Shearim. Within minutes of walking through the familiar alleyways, he reached Shmuel HaNavi Street and turned left to follow this major artery, which was full of car-and-foot traffic despite the late hour. Continuing past the roaring Bar Ilan intersection, he kept walking until he reached the edge of the Sanhedrin Park. The park was dark and shadowy, but it drew him in, a sanctuary from the rush of the teeming streets. Just a few steps into the forested park felt isolated and peaceful. The ancient burial caves carved into the side of the hill gave it a timeless, solitary feel.

20 | Yedidya Yedidya stumbled along in the light of the slivered moon before sitting down on a boulder, breathing in deeply. What was he doing in the park instead of at yeshiva with his Gemara? It was Eli’s words, still reverberating inside him. I hope it hasn’t gone to your head. I’m not sure the road to greatness is writing books all by yourself in a basement. You’re better off getting married ASAP and taking out the trash. Eli was right. He was so full of himself! As usual, he was imagining himself as special and different. Destined for something big. Though Yedidya had been extremely shy and reserved ever since he was a little kid, he had also, paradoxically, always yearned for someone to single him out for his lightening intelligence, phenomenal memory, and incredible ability to just sit and learn. At his yeshiva day school, the other kids had called him “the gaon,” though they had not always said it in the kindest of tones. When would he get over his ego and just be…normal? He looked up at the sky, noticing the shadows of the trees, the stars, and a luminous planet that he knew to be Venus. He so desperately wanted to finish writing his sefer and present it to Norman Friedrich, the kind and sincere old man who had promised to publish it. He could see the moment approaching. He envisioned it happening in just over a month, since he knew that the Friedrich family always came to spend the summer in one of Jerusalem’s best hotels. Regardless of what Eli had said, he knew that only when the sefer was published could he begin to think about marriage. He had watched his sister struggle in shidduchim for years, and his family’s circumstances had gotten even messier since then. What normal girl would even consider him? And yet, he couldn’t give up on the idea of a first-rate girl from a first-rate Torah family. He imagined how different his life would be when he was finally elevated into such circumstances. The kind of home that would be his. How people would treat him. The big things he could do.

Chapter One | 21 His sefer seemed to be his window of opportunity, and he was de- termined to do his utmost to take advantage of it. Was that so wrong? “Hashem, please help me,” he said softly. “I want so much to learn Your Torah with my whole being, but not to be so caught up with my big ego all the time.” He was surprised to find that his cheeks were wet with tears. He couldn’t even remember what it felt like to cry. He felt still and calm, and strangely assured that his prayer was pure and had made an impact. Shortly thereafter, he left the park and walked back to the yeshiva. It was almost three a.m. when he finally laid his head on his pillow and fell asleep. And now, wide awake a few hours later as the first light of the dawn crept into the sky, he sat on the edge of his bed, the pasuk still echoing in his head. It was a very strange experience to wake up like that. Pushing it from his mind, he quickly dressed, grabbing his tefillin as he rushed to catch neitz at the little shul on the corner. After davening, his head was surprisingly clear, despite so little sleep, so he decided to catch up on his learning before breakfast. When he stopped by his dorm room to pick up his drinking mug, his roommate Mordy Mirsky came in. “Hey, Steinhart, I’ve been looking for you. The Rosh Yeshiva wants to see you in his office.” Yedidya tensed, and then exhaled slowly, remembering that he’d given Rabbi Bregger the first part of his sefer for review. He couldn’t help but feel nervous as he entered the Rosh Yeshiva’s office, unsure how the meeting would go. The last thing he expected was that Rabbi Bregger would throw him out of yeshiva.

22 | Yedidya

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