It was the winter of 5716 (1956), immediately following the Sinai Campaign, when Israel took control of the Sinai Peninsula from imperialistic Egyptian advances. Poland and the Soviet Union had just signed a treaty allowing all Polish citizens who had fled to Russia during World War II to return to Poland. Jewish or not, they had the right to return, as long as they were Polish citizens on September 1, 1939, the day the Second World War broke out. As a result of this treaty, thousands of Jews throughout Russia returned to Poland, and the majority of them subsequently immigrated to Israel.
Baruch Duvdevani, who served as the Executive Director of the Jewish Agency’s Aliyah Department, spent almost two years in Poland helping to organize this mass aliyah of Russian and Polish emigrés to the Land of Israel.
One December morning, when the temperature in Warsaw had reached an unearthly 19 degrees below zero (Celsius), Baruch arrived at the Israeli embassy where he was stationed for the immigration work. The courtyard was filled with scores of people who had come from Russia to immigrate to Eretz Yisroel. Baruch stopped and talked to each and every one of them. The people’s hearts were so filled with joy that they did not feel the cold.
Baruch noticed an old Jew standing in the corner of the courtyard. He was bone thin, with practically no flesh on his body. His dim eyes lacked any spark of life; his cheekbones protruded profusely; and his clothes were tattered and torn, despite the bitter cold. Baruch realized immediately that the man wanted to speak with him and that he was simply waiting for him to finish talking.
When Baruch finished, the man approached him and asked if he was from Jerusalem. Baruch told him that he was, and then he asked if perhaps Baruch knew the Chief Rabbi, R’ Avraham Yitzchok Kook zt”l. Baruch answered that he used to attend some of R’ Kook’s inspiring Torah discourses. At that moment, the man burst into tears and said, “What a shame! What a shame that I did not listen to him.” They went indoors, out of the bitter cold, and the man continued to sob for a while. When he finally calmed down a bit, he told Baruch his story.
He began: “In the early 1920s, I was a big manufacturer in one of Poland’s famous industrial cities. One day, I decided to take a trip to Eretz Yisroel and spend the holiday of Pesach there. Being a religious Jew, I visited the chief rabbi, R’ Kook, immediately upon my arrival. He welcomed me warmly and encouraged me to seek out the good of the land and consider settling there. After a few weeks of touring, I returned to the Rav and asked him, among other things, what I should do regarding observing the second day of Yom Tov. In Israel, only the first day of Yom Tov and five days of Chol HaMoed are observed, while those living outside of the Land, as well as those with a status of ‘outsiders in Israel,’ keep two days of the chag, and the next four are Chol HaMoed. Seeing that I was a tourist, I wanted to be sure that I observed two days of Pesach, like an outsider.”
The thin man looked wistful. “I remember how the Rav answered me with a smile. ‘Decide right now to bring your family here permanently and build a factory in the Land of Israel. Then you can keep one day of Yom Tov already—even this Pesach—like all the inhabitants of Eretz Yisroel.’
“I took his answer jovially, without any real intention to follow his directive, and since the holiday was still a few weeks away, I decided to return at a later date and pose the question again when it was more practical. A few days before Pesach, I again went to R’ Kook and asked him the question once more. This time, the Rav was not jovial, but quite stern. ‘I already told you that you should move here; then you may keep one day of Yom Tov starting now, even if you must return to Poland after Pesach to settle your affairs…’
“I said to him, ‘Excuse me, dear rabbi, I have thought about it at great length, but in the end, my intention is to return to the Diaspora. How, then, can I celebrate like the residents of Eretz Yisroel?’
“The Rav banged his hand on the table and said with great emotion, ‘Your da’as (intention) is to return to the Diaspora? That is nothing but a lack of da’as (sense)!’”
The man looked at Baruch and continued in a broken voice, “I did not listen to the Rav. I returned to the Diaspora and remained there. I lost my wife, my children, and my grandchildren in the horrors of the Holocaust, and here I am today, lonely, broken, and desolate. I have come here with nothing, after wandering for years throughout Russia. And I constantly recall R’ Kook’s prophetic words: ‘Your da’as is nothing but a lack of da’as!’”
Rabbi Dovid Hoffman is the author of the popular “Torah Tavlin” book series, filled with stories, wit and hundreds of divrei Torah, including the brand new “Torah Tavlin Yamim Noraim” in stores everywhere. You’ll love this popular series. Also look for his book, “Heroes of Spirit,” containing one hundred fascinating stories on the Holocaust. They are fantastic gifts, available in all Judaica bookstores and online at http://israelbookshoppublications.com. To receive Rabbi Hoffman’s weekly “Torah Tavlin” sheet on the parsha, e-mail This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it.