Chapter 7

On Sunday I prepared myself to go to the wedding of the groom who had recently been lodging in the Old City. At noon I went to the Western Wall to recite the ten Psalms, as is my constant practice, and to pray Minchah there. Since I would now be outside the city, however, I went to the Wall beforehand. There I found the groom and the members of the wedding families praying and pleading for mercy at the Western Wall, in accordance with the custom here that, on the day of the chuppah, the groom, the bride, and the members of the wedding families go to the Western Wall and to Shimon HaTzaddik, etc., to plead for mercy that they should have good fortune, etc. They likewise repent and regret their deeds up to that time, etc. I found them praying and pleading after they had already been at the Tomb of our Matriarch Rachel, may her merit protect us, amen. They had paid the shamash, who traveled with them to the tomb of our Matriarch Rachel, may her merit protect us, amen, and they had remained there for some time.

I too performed my own devotions, and afterward went directly to the automobile to travel outside the city. At that time I lent someone my Lemberg-edition Likutay Tefillos, although I do not remember to whom. From then onward I have no longer had that copy of Likutay Tefillos. I have asked nearly all the members of our fellowship about it, but no one knows anything of it; alas for what has been lost. I traveled outside the city with the members of the wedding families, while the groom still remained at the Western Wall. The bride, her female companions, and the women of the wedding families then also came to the Western Wall to pray there, as is customary.

I entered the home of Rabbi Avraham, may his lamp shine, and we spoke about Rabbainu, of blessed memory, and also about arranging a marriage match for my son, may his lamp shine. For some time I have yearned, longed, and passionately desired to marry him off, for it is well known to us how exceedingly great it is to marry in one's youth, and that all of one's Judaism depends upon this, etc. Throughout this entire period I have continually raised the matter in my home when speaking with my wife, may she live. In particular, here in Jerusalem, the holy city, they follow the worthy custom of marrying in one's youth: they marry young men and maidens at approximately sixteen or seventeen years of age, etc.

All the companions of my son, may his lamp shine, who studied with him together in cheder, have already married (for they are all older than he, since he is the youngest of them all). In particular, according to the teaching of Rabbainu, of blessed memory, this is an exceedingly great and necessary matter. Rabbainu's well-known statement is that he does not deal at all with bachelors: when a bachelor draws close to him, he does not speak with him at all, but first sends him to marry. In Rabbainu's own Yiddish: “I do not deal with bachelors at all; when a bachelor comes to me, the first thing I do is send him to get married.” The Gemara likewise speaks very, very extensively about this, and Rabbi Avraham continually urges me concerning it.

During the preceding week the groom had likewise traveled to Meron, to the tziyun of Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, may his merit protect us, amen, together with the avreich Nesanel and my friend Yom Tov of Shaarei Chesed (about whom there is much to relate: how he recently drew close and how we served Hashem together; we shall speak of this below).

Although I had arranged with Nesanel that he would travel together with me discreetly, without commotion, etc., when it came about that the groom wished to travel then and offered him half of the expenses, he immediately traveled with him without my knowledge. The same was true of my friend Yom Tov mentioned above. Although I had inspired him to travel (for he had never yet been there), and although he had asked me whether I was ready for the journey, I told him to wait until Chanukah, since I was not yet ready for it and, in particular, still had no conceivable means of obtaining the money for it. Yet when these men became available as traveling companions, he did not wish to delay the matter and immediately went with them.

He had previously asked me what to do at home concerning his wife, since she would oppose him very strongly. I told him that he need not tell her that he was traveling to Meron, but only that he was traveling to Tel Aviv for business, etc. He did not do so, however. He departed entirely without her knowledge, merely wrote a letter telling her that he was traveling to Meron for several days, placed it in the post, and they set out.

As soon as she received the letter she fainted, cried out, and went to the automobile, but they were already gone. She immediately went to the beis midrash, cried out, created a commotion, and learned who had traveled with him, etc. (For this reason I was pleased that he had not traveled with me, but with them. Had she discovered that he had traveled with me, she would have come and shouted at my house - and why should I need all that commotion? When I undertake such a matter, I do it discreetly, and my wife does not learn of it.)

They arrived in Safed, took the shamash with them, and traveled to Meron. He remained with them for a night and a day. At night the shamash went to the village to lodge among the non-Jews, as was his custom, while they remained at the holy tziyun. Suddenly, in the middle of the night, Arabs pounded very hard upon the door. They became exceedingly frightened and did not answer at all. Rabbi Yom Tov advised them, out of fear, to enter and hide in a water cistern. In sum, the night passed over them in very great fear - especially over Rabbi Yom Tov, for he had no experience whatsoever in such things and was, by nature, a very weak man.

In the morning the shamash returned, and they told him what had occurred. He replied that they had had no reason to be afraid: those non-Jews had thought that he was in the beis midrash at the holy tziyun, not knowing that he was in the village, and had wanted him to come lodge with them.

While I was in the home of Rabbi Avraham, may his lamp shine, he spoke with me and urged me to go to the wedding. He said that it was difficult for him to attend because he had a public shiur in the beis midrash of Batei Ungarin. I likewise urged my friend Rabbi Yisrael Dov to go with me, and we went together to the groom's lodging. Since the groom had no home there - his father lived in Tel Aviv - he was staying in the home of Rabbi Yechiel, one of the members of our fellowship. We entered Rabbi Yechiel's home, which had two large rooms. In the first room the groom sat at the head, surrounded by his fellow young men from Yeshivas Sfas Emes, who were Gerer Chassidim (for the groom was among the students of Yeshivas Sfas Emes; his father was not a Breslover Chassid, but had drawn close).

All the young men sat and sang songs and zemiros before him. One stood and delivered badchanus before him, with morally awakening exhortation, and all responded after him in song according to the meter. Before them lay every good thing - fine lekach and candies from which to eat, etc. This follows the custom of Poland and of the Gerer Chassidim: before the wedding, all the groom's young companions from cheder and yeshivah sit with him, delight with him for several hours, and recite badchanus and zemiros before him. Afterward they take leave of him and depart (“they say farewell to him,” for he is passing from bachelorhood into manhood: that is, he remains a bachelor together with them for several more hours; afterward they take leave of him, and he is a bachelor no longer), returning to their yeshivah; the chuppah then takes place.

In the second room sat all those who had come for the chuppah. All the members of our fellowship were there; the kesubah was written there, etc. There too they served lekach, whiskey, and kinds of sweets etc. We ate a little there. I then went out to the first room to hear the badchanus, and I was pleased to hear him describe, in rhyme, how this world is a railway station. Everyone arrives with his luggage, and each is given a ticket: this one travels as far as here, and that one as far as there; when the time marked by the ticket comes to an end, he must disembark, etc. This awakened me greatly.

He likewise said in rhyme that the Jew's sole weapon is the heartfelt tear (di blutike trer, “the bloodied tear”). He portrayed a man who is ill: people go to physicians and seek remedies, but afterward, when the physicians despair and declare that there is no hope, what is the final recourse? They run to the synagogue, to the Holy Ark, cry out and weep, shed the heartfelt tear mentioned above - and Hashem saves.

Likewise, when a woman is in difficult labor and, after it appears that every recourse has been exhausted, etc., one then sees that the heartfelt tear is what comes to her aid and is the Jewish man's sole weapon, etc.

Likewise, when a person has a court case and goes to lawyers, but sees that the lawyers hold out no hope to him, the sole recourse remaining to him is to pour forth the heartfelt tear before Hashem, etc., etc.

In sum, this lasted for about an hour. Candles burned upon the table, etc. Afterward they ate and drank a little, the young men parted, and each went his way.

Afterward we went to perform the chuppah in the courtyard of the mechutan, the bride's father, in Meah Shearim - the courtyard of Rabbi Baruch's synagogue. They entered to veil the bride, as is customary; afterward they came out, performed the chuppah and the solemnization of kiddushin in the customary manner, and it was raining.