Boots For Israel

The Hashgacha Pratis Seen When Starting a Chesed Organization

Below: An Image of the founder R’ Yakir Wachstock

Rabbi Moshe Taub

November, 2023

“Serendipity” may be my favorite word in the English language. In addition to its melodious sound, this word comes closest to the meaning of our colloquial use of the term “mazal” (for the accurate understanding of this term, see sefer Chemdah Genuza).

Many of us likely know people who are successful in their fields—including those in klei kodesh—yetwho were initially introduced to their work through obvious hashgachah pratis; cases where the ‘serendipity’ is clear.

A rebbi of mine offered a fascinating example of this phenomenon in regard to Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz.

Recognized as an iluy since his youth, Rav Chaim became a maggid shiur under the guidance of Rav Shimon Shkop when he was only 18 years old. A few years later, he moved to Mir and began his ascendency as perhaps the greatest galus rosh yeshivah, serving in this capacity across three continents— in Europe, then Kobe and Shanghai in Asia, and in New York in North America- all this before settling in his role at the Mir Yeshiva in Yerushalayim, which he would help nurture into what it is today: the largest yeshivah since the time of Rebbe Akiva.

His knowledge of Toras Chazal was so extensive that respected geonim visited him before giving their own shiurim. They would share which Gemara the shiur was to be on and he would immediately jot down a list of marei mekomos from across shas and the Rishonim and Acharonim.

On the boat to America after the war, he was studying the Shev Shmaatsa, a very complex sefer that discusses legal guidelines in Chazal. His war-torn volume was missing the last few pages…so he wrote them by heart! My rebbi– Rav Chaim’s nephew-Rav Refael Shmulevitz of Toronto, has seen this edition, as it is still kept, guarded, and treasured by the family.

So where does serendipity arise in his story? After the passing of Rav Chaim’s brother-in-law, the Mir needed someone to take over the weekly Chumash shmuess. Short of any obvious options, they asked Rav Chaim if he would deliver it until they found a proper replacement.

Until that moment, no one had associated Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz with mussar, drashos, and aggadah (see, e.g., Rav Chaim, CIS publishing, p. 170). So by the time he concluded his first substitute shiur, everyone in attendance sat with awestruck shock. It was decided that Rav Chaim should continue with these shmuessen, and soon his weekly audience would reach close to a thousand people.

Today, Sichos Mussar, a sefer based on these drashos, has been published many times, in many languages, and is studied in yeshivos, seminaries, and at Shabbos tables.

In fact, although until then he was most known for his piercing lomdus, drush and Sichos Mussar became Rav Chaim’s legacy (for the average Jew). He never sought such prominence; instead, it found him.

Hashem knew that this gadol had important messages to share and made sure that it happened.

Like most kehillos, our shul collected funds for the new yesomim, almanos and others affected by the horrendous Simchas Torah attacks in Eretz Yisrael on October 7. We did our part, and then we continued to daven for the hostages, to increase our Torah learning, and to beseech Hashem for an end to this crisis.

It was during this time when our Shul also witnessed something quite ‘serendipitous’, an episode of profound hashgachah.

On October 10, at two o’clock in the morning, my neighbor Yakir Wachstock – a dedicated Hatzolah volunteer – received a phone call from Brigadier General Daniel Jacobs. Why this general thought to call him is its own story of hashgachah.

Briefly, Yakir’s younger brother Oren attended dental school in Buffalo when I lived there. After graduating, Oren moved to Eretz Yisrael and opened an Amazon business. This general wanted to know if Oren, through his Amazon connections, or his brother, my neighbor Yakir, knew of any warehouse(s) in Queens that was stocking tactical boots. He explained that most of the men being called up to the army (miluim) did not have boots, and those who did had boots that were quite worn; some were in tatters and were being held together by duct tape!

Yakir quickly contacted another member of our shul, Avi Shakarov, who is a wholesale shoe distributor. Avi indeed had boots in his warehouse and was selling them for a nice profit online. He immediately pulled its listing and donated their first shipment to Eretz Yisrael.

He and Yakir packed duffle bags filled with these boots, contacted El Al, and were able to get the bags onto a flight.

Done…or so they thought.

The next day, Yakir received a message that concluded, “Thank you from the Yakir Battalion.” Although he was honored, he thought naming a battalion after him was a little over the top. The battalion members responded, “No! This is hashgachah pratis. Our battalion has always been named Yakir!”

Wild! 

Word gets around fast. Soon, other soldiers in need of tactical boots learned about this shipment and contacted Yakir, asking for boots in specific sizes. Typically, these calls came/come from mothers whose sons aren’t able to call, and they are often accompanied by pictures of old sneakers, or worse.

So Yakir found volunteers, and our shul went to work, sending out another shipment.  But it didn’t stop there.

This by-chance organization now sends more than 80 duffle bags every week.

Hashgacha still is seen daily, always taking over at moments of frustration. The other day, for example, a plane that was supposed to carry a shipment of boots simply ran out of space. El Al quickly informed us that some American families of hostages would be delighted to take them for us on their El Al chartered flight!

Odd complexities have also arisen. Most of these boots are made in Italy with American hunters in mind. These customers rarely need a size nine, so sizes in that range are more expensive. Our younger soldiers however indeed need such sizes.

The other night, a man from New Jersey called and said, “I just wanted to contact you to make sure this is a legitimate tzedakah because I want to get my colleagues to give you a donation.”

I explained that every dollar goes to purchase boots. “What do you do, and who are your colleagues?” I asked him.

“I’m a podiatrist.”

I responded, half jokingly, “These are boots! The Podiatry Association of America should be sponsoring several orders!”

Over the past two weeks, our kehillah raised well over half a million dollars, bought out all of a particular size duffle bag from Amazing Savings, and sent more than 6,000 pairs of boots to our soldiers in Israel. Our coat room in the shul is now a warehouse, and minivans and SUVs line up daily so that volunteers can load the bags and take them to the airport.

Last Shabbos, Yakir came to my house after the seudah. He was justifiably nervous. “It’s tens of thousands of dollars each day. How can this work going forward?”

I don’t know…but it has…and it will. Hashem gave us this project, and He will continue to aid us.

Our shul never asked for this, and I am still not exactly sure how it came to us.

Serendipitous? Perhaps. As I mentioned to a volunteer, “Hashem’s hashgachah constantly brings us chesed opportunities; we just have to be open to sensing them and be quick to act.”

The word for boots in Hebrew is “magafayim.” It’s not found in Tanach and first appears in Chazal (see, for example, the  Mishnah on Shabbos 6:2). The root is similar to “gafaf,” referring to a certain type of embrace (see, e.g., Rambam, avos hatumos, perek 13). However, its true shoresh seems to be “gaf,” which comes from the word for a type of limbed wing that fully surrounds its host (see, e.g., Mishlei 9:3). an example of this is a bat, whose wings fully surround its body when it is at rest. This explains why Chazal use this root for an embrace that fully surrounds and supports an entity.

This is klal Yisrael. We soar with our wings, or we use them to embrace the needs of others.

The serendipity of these events is still a mystery to me, and how we managed to raise all this money is not only a mystery but a neis. (To donate, go to THIS LINK)

One phone call “by chance,” and a neighbor who didn’t turn over to go back to sleep.

Amazing. ●