I did know what a tzaddik was

I did not know what a tzaddik was until I met Lipa.  Truth be told, at that time I also did not know what kosher was, what Shabbat was, what Pesach was.  Growing up in the former Soviet Union, just about the only thing I knew was that I was a Jew.  That was about it.  But for Lipa it was enough. 

We first met more than 20 years when our family just moved to Canada.  There was always something special about him.  Whether it was his gentle manner, his soft sense of humour, his laser-sharp mind or his ability to speak to everyone at their level.  I always wondered how can one person have so many qualities that are usually shared by so many individuals.  Now the answer seems simple.  He was a special man.  He was a tzaddik.    

I cannot recall the first time we were invited to spend Pesach together.  Until then, Pesach was probably the most dreaded holiday for our family.  The very first time we were invited to a seder (not knowing anything about the holiday) we got there around 6pm yet did not start eating until about midnight, by which point most of the family have left as they could not hold out without food any longer.  The Dubrawsky experience was different. Stories, questions, answers and more questions.   A moving story here - a current political reference there, a historical point here - some latest-technological news there, a funny line here – a thought-provoking question there.  Pesach was never the same.   Since then "second night seder at Dubrawsky's" had become a family tradition for more than a decade.  I would not exaggerate to say that the whole family would be looking forward to this holiday every year.  The only other holiday we enjoy as much is Rosh Hashana as the "second night at Dubrawsky's" has become a family tradition. 

It always amazed me Rabbi Dubrawsky's remarkable ability to make me feel special.  It was much more than just treating another human being with respect – it was as if leaving a conversation I would not just feel better about myself, but I would be inspired to be more, to do more, to learn more, to strive to become more.  It was never forced, it was simply there and I could not get away from it.  Whether it is wearing tefillin, which I now (because of him) do regularly, or fuller embracing of the holidays – it was a matter of interactions with Lipa before it became an essential part of your life. 

I can continue listing all the ways that he has affected the lives of members of our family and mine, but the list is long.  What I will say is that I feel truly privileged that I have had an opportunity to interact with a remarkable human being and that my life has been changed because of him.  Undoubtedly for the better. 

I feel a tremendous sense of loss for everything he did not get a chance to do. 

I feel a tremendous sense of sadness for the void he has left in all of our hearts. 

I feel a tremendous sense of respect that a shaliach could bring so much good to this world.

I feel a tremendous sense of pride that I belong to a nation that produces individuals like Rabbi Dubrawsky. 

I feel a tremendous sense of hope that there will be more people like him, albeit none will ever replace him. 

I feel a tremendous sense of inspiration to do more, to be more, to learn more, to strive to become more. 

I feel a tremendous sense of responsibility to carry on, in whatever way I can, the torch that he lit and carried.

I feel a tremendous sense of debt to Dena and to the children for your loss.  You are all in our hearts and our thoughts, wishes, prayers are with each of you.  Please let us know how we can help. 

I feel tremendously blessed for having had the opportunity to meet a tzaddik.  He may be not with us physically, but his teachings, suggestions, stories, are an integral part of us.  They are and they will always be affecting our thoughts, actions and our spirits - our lives.   

I feel a tremendous sense of gratitude for everything he has done. 

 

Alexei Schwartzman

on behalf of Schwartzman-Steele family