"He's an old grandfather and he's still sitting in yeshiva,"
the small children said of Reb Elya when, having passed the
age of eighty, he was still at the helm of the yeshiva in
Kfar Chassidim teaching Torah and mussar.
Though aging in years, Reb Elya remained ever-youthful in
spirit. Like a fresh young soldier beginning his army
service, Reb Elya stood to attention, fulfilling his duty as
he was taught in the Beis Medrash of Kelm.
His years at Kelm were not lessons of a bygone era. The
spirit of Torah and mussar that he imbibed there were
with him continuously, a life-giving well from which Reb
Elya constantly drew and in turn passed on to his
talmidim.
A talmid of R' Elya's once wanted to take off a few
days in order to attend a family simcha. Upon asking
the Mashgiach permission, Reb Elya began to inquire if the
way was safe as far as shemiras einayim was
concerned. The bochur explained that it would be fine
and somewhat belittled the issue, assuring Reb Elya that
what he saw wouldn't do him any harm, anyway.
Reb Elya shuddered at his words. "I don't understand what
you're saying!" he exclaimed. "I am over eighty. I'm blind
in one eye and with the second eye I can only see clearly if
I expend great effort to focus. Yet if I have to step out on
the street, I start to shake with fear that I might
choliloh stumble and see something that is
ossur. And you so calmly assure yourself that nothing
will harm you?"
One of his attendants related the following.
Once when I accompanied Rabbeinu on his way, I wanted to
take a short cut and therefore led him through the Machane
Yehudah marketplace. Rabbeinu began to tremble violently and
pulled my arm. "Don't we usually go a different way, where
fewer people walk the street? This area is referred to in
the gemora which tells us: one who passes through
such a (full) place when he has another alternative is
called a rosho!"
The famous maggid of Yerushalayim, R' Sholom
Schwadron, was a talmid of Reb Elya. He would relate
the following story that took place in his presence.
"I once accompanied my rebbe, Reb Elya, to an eye
operation. The doctor's appointment was set for 3:00 and we
left the house in good time at 2:00 to wait for the bus. The
bus was delayed and our wait was becoming long and tiring.
Around us, our fellow would-be passengers were growing
increasingly impatient.
"Only Rabbeinu was the exception. Standing straight- backed,
with his head bent downwards, Reb Elya refused to raise his
eyes but kept them averted throughout. After a long time, a
rumble was heard in the distance. As the crowd at the bus
stop straightened themselves in anticipation Reb Elya, too,
turned his head slightly to the side. Almost immediately he
turned it back to his previous position, groaning softly to
himself, `Oy, oy, in Kelm I would have received a
"psak" for this.'
"Finally, the doctor was seen and the operation proceeded.
All was going fine, when suddenly a frantic beeping
indicated that Reb Elya's blood pressure had suddenly shot
up dramatically. Reb Elya remained comatose for several
weeks following the operation.
"It seems that our tefillos were heard in Heaven,"
continues R' Sholom with his tale, "and our great teacher
was returned to us from death's door.
"Several months later, Reb Elya once again had to undergo
surgery. The family expressed their concern that, chas
vesholom, the same accident should not recur.
"Hearing their doubts, R' Elya smiled, `Don't worry. This
time nothing will happen.'
"He then explained, `Before the first operation I decided it
was applicable to make a cheshbon hanefesh and go
through all the deeds of my lifetime. I went back to the
time when I was a boy of twelve and mentally started making
an account of my ma'asim from that day onward. Is it
a wonder then that my blood pressure rose so dramatically?
However, now that I know it's detrimental to my health, I
won't make a cheshbon hanefesh at all and be'ezras
Hashem everything will go smoothly.'
"Indeed, the surgery was done the second time without
mishap."
***
"When I teach Torah," Reb Elya once said to a talmid.
"I don't see anything, even though my eyes are open."
"Are Reb Elya's eyes then unseeing?" wondered the
talmid aloud. The Rebbe explained in the simplest
terms possible how, when he teaches, he focuses his thoughts
on the subject at hand and concentrates to a depth beyond
the usual level of concentration. The part of the brain that
registers what the eyes see then becomes too involved in the
shiur, and coordination between the brain and eyes
causes him to see only the words he is speaking and nothing
else.
Hearing of this magical transport to a Torah world, the
bochur begged to be taught this high level. Reb Elya
informed him he was a number of years too late already. To
reach such a level of brain and sight coordination requires
great effort in the younger years.
A story that occurred with a close talmid confirms
the above.
Reb Elya was just sitting down to learn, when a
distinguished talmid of his entered the room.
Immediately Reb Elya jumped up to offer him a drink. The
talmid, however, had no wish to be served by his
rebbe and quickly engaged Reb Elya in a Torah
discussion. His tactic was successful and, as the two of
them plunged into the depths of the gemora, the drink
was all but forgotten. During the course of their learning,
the talmid helped himself to a drink, an act which
went completely unnoticed.
It was only when he closed his gemora that Reb Elya
suddenly remembered that he had not served his talmid
anything at all. "It's all right," assured the
bochur. "I helped myself to a drink."
Reb Elya could not recall having seen the bochur get
up and leave the room and return with a drink, and was sure
the talmid was merely trying to be polite. Only when
he was shown the empty cup lying in front of his
chavrusa did R' Elya believe him.
"A similar story occurred with my teacher and mentor, the
Alter of Kelm," recalled R' Elya. Late at night, the Alter
was learning, when his small baby began to cry. The
Rebbetzin, hearing her husband was up and having placed the
crib nearby, was sure that the Alter would rock the child
and soothe him back to sleep. However, after a few minutes,
as the child's cries grew stronger and more insistent, she
called to her husband. It took a few loud calls to shake the
Alter out of his learning world and back to earth to comfort
his child, whose cries he had not heard at all.
***
An amazing story was told by Reb Elya himself. When he was
living with his young family in Kelm, his Rebbetzin became
gravely ill. "The doctors who were summoned had no clue as
to the cause of the illness or its remedy, but it was soon
clear that her life was in danger. As the family sat by her
bedside, crying and praying, a stranger walked into the room
and asked what was the reason for the bitter wailing he
heard from outside.
"He looked at the prostrate figure on the bed and then said
simply, `What's the problem? Go to such and such a place and
pick the herbs that are growing there. The herbs should then
be boiled and their water given to the sick woman to
drink.'
"For lack of an alternative, the family complied and, a few
moments after drinking the potion, the Rebbetzin indeed sat
up and was not long in recovering completely.
"I'm sure," continued Reb Elya, "that the stranger was
Eliyohu Hanovi, who came not in my merit but in the
zechus of my Rebbetzin, the tzadekes."
An interesting epilogue followed this story, when Reb Elya
once went into the Sfas Emes of Gur to ask for a
brochoh.
"Someone who merited a revelation of Eliyohu Hanovi doesn't
need my brocho," retorted the Sfas Emes.
On the spot, R' Elya replied, "If so (if the Rebbe knows
that Eliyohu Hanovi came without having been told about it),
then avadai I would like to receive a brochoh
from the Sfas Emes."
The Mashgiach — HaRav Elya Lopian, zt"l