​Not a rebbe of Torah, but Itzhak Perlman is a rebbe of violin. We learn lessons from Itzhak Perlman's violin playing. It's like learning Torah, without Torah. You get to create the moral Torah lesson, even if it's not Torah. Kind of like a sermon.

This is about the famous show where Itzhak Perlman had a string pop on him in the middle of a performance. He should've fired the string guy. He didn't. That's the first lesson I learned from the story. Don't hold your staff accountable, and they will stick around.
People have asked me, 'Was he doing staccato?' 'Was he smacking the thing with the horse hair bow?' 'Was he angry at the conductor, and did he try hit him with the instrument?" All I know is a string popped. That's the story. That's what he's known for. I heard he is good at violin too. But he's known for the string.

Side Note that Adds to the Story: To see Itzhak Perlman walk on stage is a spectacle. He was stricken with polio as a child and walks on stage with leg braces and crutches. Seeing him walk across the stage with calculated steps is a sight. Some people go to his show just to see that. In the lobby, you can hear them, 'Paid two-hundred dollars. What a walk?! Amazing.'
That night, nobody cared about overcoming polio, and becoming one of the greatest violinists the world has seen. There was a broken string. Broken strings are a true sight. When they pop. Wow. That's inspiration.

The string popped. I don't know which string it was. I am guessing it was the E. You say hello to that string and it pops.
He didn't leave the stage and nobody brought him another string. At that point, he should've fired the whole crew. They all saw it, and just stood there. 
After a brief moment, he continued playing. He realized nobody was going to help him. They all saw him walking on stage, and yet, nobody did anything. After noticing that nobody was going to help, and it was going to take a good half hour to get off the stage, to fix his violin, he said, 'The hell with it. I'm going to just continue the thing.' He knew it wasn't time for the intermission yet, and if he got off the stage the audience would complain and Kvetch the whole night. So, he went on.
The orchestra did nothing. They just stood there and stared at him. They were all trying to figure out if he would go all the way back off the stage. As one of the viola players said, 'We waited a sonata for him to get to his seat. Is he going to make us wait again?!' Viola players are very snobby. They think they're better, because they have bigger instruments. To quote, 'My violin is bigger, and thus I am better.' As the viola players took bets, Itzhak Perlman kept on playing.
All were amazed. His mother wasn't impressed. She was noted as saying, 'He still has to practice. He still doesn't know how to tune the thing right.'

It was to everyone’s amazement that Itzhak Perlman kept playing that violin, when a concerto cannot be played with only three strings. And all who were at that show were amazed, and wanted their money back.
The fact that Itzhak Perlman didn't know that a concerto needs four strings was very bothersome. One columnist let it be known, 'He's a professional. He should know that a concerto needs four strings.'
As the complaints came in, it turned out that many felt like they got ripped off, not being able to see Itzhak Perlman with a full violin. To quote, 'That was the most amazing show I've ever seen. It will be talked about for generations. Sermons will be given for generations about this inspirational performance. Great to be there. We loved it. We will never see a show this great again. Priceless. We want our money back. We paid for a four string violin performance.'

Back to what happened on the stage.
Itzhak Perlman continued that concert, thinking nobody would ask for money back. He played with more passion than ever. That's what anger can do. Nobody coming out and helping him, he was mad. A bunch of yutzes.
It was a show put on from the soul. He had to recompose the piece in his head, to make it all fit into three strings. Ever tried doing bar chords on a guitar? This was harder. He even had to retune strings in the middle, to make new sounds. The orchestra was trying to figure out what to do, as they had already tuned their instruments. The crowd loves hearing instruments being tuned; that's why I go to the orchestra. I love hearing them tune.
All with three strings, Itzhak Perlman put on a passionate and uplifting performance. Can you imagine if he played with that much passion on four strings. His mother went on, 'He should learn to play a four string violin.'

At the end of the show, to huge cheers, he said,  ‘You know, sometimes it is the artist’s task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left.' He should've continued, 'My staff that didn't help. They're all fired.'
And the audience members used that as an excuse to get their money back, pointing out that not everything was at the performance.

And rabbis have been giving sermons ever since.

Lessons of What Followed
People will never help you. No matter how bad you have it. They won't lift a finger. Not one person came to help him with the violin. In the whole theater, not one decent soul. I hope he didn't play that town again.
His mother continued, 'If he would put in that much effort with a four string violin he would be a something.'

Much of the audience said they didn't connect with his message. One woman in the back said, 'I'm not an artist. I work in the medical health field.' Another guy said, 'I play guitar. I don't play violin. I'm not an artist.' Another young lady said, 'I don't know.' She didn't finish college.
After the show, many said he's not an artist. He is a violinist. Since then, in his later years, he has made it a point to prove them wrong and has taken up painting, sculpting and graffiti.
Lesson: The only way people will pay for your art is when you're gone.

Since this inspirational performance, support for polio research has gone down. Support for violins and the needs of the Suzuki method has grown immensely. Much money has been raised for research to make the neck brace more comfortable for violinists. The head of the research center for softer violin neck holders is quoted as saying, 'This. The neck. The way you have to turn it and contort. This is an epidemic.' They went on to explain why violinists are always looking to the left, even at dinner parties.

Rabbis have been using this 'how much music you can still make with what you have left' since. It has especially inspired those Bar Mitzvah kids who mess up the Torah reading and their families, letting their parents know that this is what the Jewish people have left. As the rabbi of my shul said after Yankel read the Torah, 'We have to do the best we can with what we just saw. It won't be easy, but it's what our people have left.'
Quoted more than Moshe telling Paroh to let the Jews out, three sermons a year are based around this story in every congregation. What making music means? Nobody knows. Sermons are more meaningful when they're not understood. 

Without the broken string story Itzhak Perlman would be a nothing. Nobody cares about the violining. They especially don't care about overcoming polio. It's the string that popped.
I am changing this story to 'His String That Wasn't,' about a guitar player who ran on stage. That's more meaningful.

***To fact check the story, please see https://www.atime.org/chizuk/with-whats-left/

The Skeptical Litvak – They All Are
The rebbe didn't show up for Selichot prayers during the Ten Days of Repentance. The people of Nemirov asked, ‘Where is the Rebbe?’ And all the disciples now had to repent for speaking Lashon Hara. Speaking gossip is a sin. You shouldn’t ask such questions. It leads to gossip. But they did, as it was about the rebbe, and everybody talks about rabbis. People love to talk about rabbis. You see the rabbi at the restaurant and everybody’s talking about how he didn’t have enough intent with his blessing, and too little stuffed derma. 
Discussion continued and the Chasidim knew there is only one place their rebbe could be. In heaven.
A Litvak came to the town during this time of Selichot, early in the morning, and he noticed the rebbe's absence. The pupils of the Rebbe of Nemirov said, ‘Where is our Rebbe? He is in heaven.’ And the Litvak laughed. It was more of a guffaw. We all know Litvaks are very sarcastic. They’re straight and they have no creativity with their practice of Mitzvot. When was the last time a Litvak celebrated Shabbat by starting a bonfire, playing an electric guitar, throwing together some fireworks, and tanning a hide? No creativity.
 
Upon hearing that their rebbe was in heaven, the Litvak knew the rebbe was up to something. To quote the Litvak, ‘I have seen many people try to get out of Minyin. People love to skip Selichot. I’ve heard people were sick, with a cough. I’ve heard people had to go to work. They didn’t even have a job. I’ve even heard people say they had to watch their kids, when we had babysitting at the shul. But using heaven as an excuse to get out of services?!’
The Litvak laughed and reprimanded, ‘You fools. Your rebbe is not in heaven. Even Moshe, our great leader, didn't go up to heaven. It’s impossible.’ And the Litvak said, ‘I will find out.’ And he did.

Sleeping Under Somebody’s Bed is Not Comfortable – Even if They Are a Rebbe
That evening, the Litvak snuck into the rebbe's house and slept under his bed. The Litvak was scared. Of course, he was scared. It was even creepy back then to sleep under somebody's bed. But the Litvak did it.
I don’t suggest sleeping under anybody’s bed. There is no precedent to sleep under somebody’s bed, unless if you are their student. Then it makes sense. You learn their snoring patterns, and you can be a better disciple.
He wanted to see what the rebbe was up to. He had to get to the bottom of this skipping prayers racket the rebbe was running. And the Litvak was going to figure it out, by trespassing and hiding under the rebbe’s bed, and taking some of the rice cakes he found in the kitchen. It wasn’t easy. He couldn’t breathe normally or the rebbe would figure him out. He also couldn’t breathe normally, because of the dust under the rebbe’s bed. The rebbe wasn’t known for sweeping. They didn’t have Swiffers back then.
It was a hard night and the Litvak didn’t get much sleep. The rebbe even took a fly swatter and smacked him with it a few times, thinking his room was infested with loud bedbugs.
 
What Rebbes Do When They Skip Prayers and Selichot
The next morning, when all had left the house, the rebbe got up. ‘Ah Ha. The rebbe wakes up late. Everybody else was out of the house at 5:30am and the rebbe is only moving at 5:35am. A sloth,’ thought the Litvak, ‘I got him.’ Then, the rebbe put on peasant clothes, and took an ax and rope with him. The rebbe went to the forest and cut down a tree, then cut it into pieces and tied it in the rope. He was the only in shape rabbi I’ve ever heard of. I’ve never heard of a rabbi who does anything but go to the shvitz. Rabbis sit and sweat. They don’t exercise. Not the Rebbe of Nemirov. He exercises. Two hundred pushups every morning. The Litvak was lucky he skipped them that day.
Legend has it that no other rabbi could take the Rabbi of Nemirov in an arm wrestle. But that's a different story of inspiration. He competed in strong man competitions and lumberjack carries under the name Vlad.
The rebbe started dragging the wood. The Litvak was still there, following the rebbe. He was very good at stalking. He had done it before. If I recall correctly, there was another time the Litvak slept under a rabbi’s bed because he was interested in finding out what he wears under his Bekishe. What’s under the rebbe’s coat has always been an anomaly,
The Litvak was disturbed. Why did the rebbe need to start a wood business? Why are his disciples not paying him enough? Why do the rebbe’s students not sleep under his bed? Are they just not good pupils? Why is the rebbe killing the forest? There were many questions.
 
The rebbe dragged the wood to a poor women's house who was sick, and he knocked on the door. You don’t just enter a house, unannounced. She probably would’ve shot the rebbe.
This story is based on the Chasid's account. That student of the rebbe was following the Litvak. I can’t tell you what kind of house it was. You have to ask the Litvak. I believe it was wood. Might have been brick. Not a sturdy foundation. A very nice kitchen. Granite countertops. Granite was big in the 1800s.
The poor woman asked, ‘Who’s at my door.’ The Rebbe said, ‘Vassil.’ Vassil is not a Jewish name. Nobody names their kid Vassil. It hurts their chances at a good Shidduch.
She told the rebbe he can come in. The rebbe’s sale, posing as Vassil, was, ‘You don’t have money? You can repay me later. You believe in Gd, but you don’t believe that He will give you six kopeks?’
The rebbe wasn’t a very good businessman. He could’ve got more than six kopeks out of her. He could’ve told her that she didn’t have to pay him a thousand kopeks. But he didn’t. He missed the moment to make a bit. The Litvak however, learned a valuable lesson. The Litvak became very rich later in life, when he sold a house for eight million kopeks, by telling the guy that if he believes in Gd he should buy it. The guy purchasing the house only had a million kopeks. With newfound belief in Gd, due to the Litvak’s sales technique, the guy borrowed the rest from the bank. The guy lost the house when he couldn’t make the first payment. Thank Gd, the Litvak got top dollar on the deal,
 
What Happens in A Poor Women's House
The rebbe entered the poor women’s house. As the rebbe put the wood in the oven, he recited the first portion of Selichot in a groan. That’s the tradition. I know they do that at my shul. It’s early in the morning and you’re supposed to express how tired you are when repenting. If you show Gd how hard it is, and complain, He’s more merciful.
When the wood began to burn and it became bright, he recited the second portion of Selichot with more joy. When the fire was lit and ready, he recited the third portion and shut the oven.
Why the rebbe shut the stove, we don’t know. We hope the stove still made the room warm, even though he shut it.
The Litvak was amazed that the rebbe knew the Selichot by heart. The rebbe had been skipping the prayers all this time.

The Litvak became a Chasid of the Rabbi of Nemirov. And every year, when they spoke of the rebbe ascending to heaven during the Days of Awe, the Litvak wouldn’t laugh anymore. The Litvak would say, 'If not higher.'

Lessons of What Followed
The Litvak learned the lesson from the rebbe and stopped going to shul.
He started working as a laborer and never helped with Minyin again. The community wanted him to help with the quorum, but he said he can get closer to Gd by not showing up.
Years later, the Chasidim of the rebbe learned of his great Mitzvah. Once the story got out, they couldn't get a Minyin in Nemirov for Selichot anymore.
Many don’t know the truth behind the story. It was the rebbe’s morning workout. He had to get it out of the way, and he knew the Litvak was following him. He couldn’t just chop down a tree and leave it. The Litvak would know the rebbe was just trying to get jacked.
Why the rebbe didn't use his strongman name, 'Vlad,' we will never know.
The rebbe groaned when putting in the wood, for he killed his back carrying the bundles all the way to the sick woman’s house. The Litvak couldn't get a hint. The least the Litvak could’ve done is offer to help. If you’re stalking somebody already, you might as well help.
The rebbe was singing the Selichot more joyously once the oven was lit, as he wasn’t freezing anymore. The house was very cold. Being the proper guest the rebbe is, when he’s in the character of Vassil, he didn’t want to complain to the woman.
The poor woman tried finding Vassil to pay him the six kopeks. She wanted to pay him back so badly. Trying to pay back Vassil, she got caught in the cold and came down with pneumonia. If she would’ve known it was the rebbe, she would’ve been a healthier woman. She would’ve went to his house and even given a donation to the Yeshiva.
The Litvak couldn’t mock the rebbe anymore and he lost his sense of humor.
 
***For the story, also see I.L. Peretz’s Selected Stories

It's the new year and international travel is painful again. Quarantining can be very scary, if you have to do it alone. It's a nightmare, and I purposefully entered that nightmare when I flew back to Israel, knowing I would be put in a quarantine hotel for two weeks.
The quarantine is back, and I bring you my story. It is here to inspire you, and to let you know that you can visit Israel and make it through the quarantine, as long as you're fine with your vacation being spent in the hotel. Now, the quarantine is for seven days, and my story may mean very little to you. Even so, I shall take you into my little journey of how I made it through quarantine in Israel, with my fellow returnees to Zion.
 
I Was Scared
I was in solitary confinement in a five-star hotel with a bath.
 
A Corona Hotel
They call the hotel “Corona.” The hotel itself  had the virus. I didn’t know if I could touch the closet. Do the walls have the virus? Do I catch it from my bed? I decided it was safest to live out of my suitcase and sleep in my clothes.
 
Food Rations Don’t Make Jews Happy
I thought I was going to get the Israeli hotel breakfast buffet. I asked them. Then they dropped a bag outside my door. This was worse than being locked up in solitary. At least in solitary they slip the food through a window; you get a bit of service.
They should’ve never called that room service. Three square meals is not... Other people deciding what I should be eating hurts the hotel experience. I don’t want people deciding which cheese I should be eating. I need choices, and they didn't provide that at the corona buffet.
Yes. I complained to management. The same food every day isn’t the five star hotel experience I was expecting. Not having eight cheeses to choose from, and cereal dispensers, is not something I would have chosen. It was hard. I liked cottage cheese two days ago.
 
No Washing Machines
They turned me into a manual laborer. I was a slave to my dirty clothes, and I was not a good one. Maybe I don’t know how to twist enough. I smelled like Badin detergent suds for a week.
How Do You hand wash? I’ve seen washboards in bands. Other than using it to strum a spoon, I don’t know what that is supposed to be used for.

Why is the Army Here
Soldiers were working the concierge booth. I have to say, they know very little about what there is to do in Jerusalem, when you're quarantined. Their lack of knowledge regarding Jerusalem nightlife was bothersome. They should at least been able to tell me the coordinates.
It was scary coming out of my room and seeing the gun. I ran right back in, and that's where I spent the first three days.
 
A Shabbat Retreat Where You See People Less
On Shabbat, it’s a religious duty to quarantine together.
 
Lighting Candles is a Social Experience
As lighting Shabbat candles always do, they brought light to my darkness and people into my quarantine.
We lit candles at a big table in the lobby, as opposed to our rooms. The organizers of the quarantine experience felt that a fire is more dangerous than seeing somebody who you sat next to on the flight. I went to light Shabbat candles, and that was my first interaction with people that weren’t behind plexiglass, or with a gun. I was relieved to hear that they also don’t like cottage cheese anymore. I realized I’m not in this quarantine alone, and there are other people that have no idea how to ring out a shirt.
 
The Minyin
As I was lighting the candles, I heard about the Minyin, a community praying together in isolation. They said, 'You must stay out of your room to join us.' I said, 'Yes. If me leaving my room is a requirement, I will be there... I will be early.' I had never felt so thankful for ten men in my life. I let them know that I’m happy to join, as long as I didn’t have to hand wash their clothes.
The Chazan did not have a good voice. However, he had to wear a mask, and that helped.
 
Oneg – Delighting in Shabbat
One deed leads to another and we must share all of Shabbat in quarantine. You’re supposed to delight in Shabbat, and you do that with food. One quarantining congregant brought cake, cashews, peanuts, Coke, herring. One guy really enjoyed it. The first guy who took the cashews loved the experience. After he touched them, the cashews were his. He delighted more than the rest of us. As we learned, big bowls of food are not optimal for pandemics. 
When it came to the pound cake, I went in after the first guy. I wasn’t that scared. I had eaten too much cottage cheese to be scared. If I hadn’t caught corona by now, from the corona hotel bedding, I wasn’t going to catch it from a decent pound cake and a cold cup of Coke. In life, you have to be brave and take chances. And when it comes to a wet dense pound cake, those are the times.
How I ate with my mask on is a miracle one can only speak of.
 
Ingathering of the Exiles is Motivating
After Shabbat we had a big circle where everybody shared their story.
Stories of journeys from around the world were vast. One from Cape Town, one from Buenos Aires, one was from New York, one from Thailand, one from France. Each of us had our own journey back to Israel. Each expedition was more intriguing than the next. Some sat first class. Some sat economy. One even had somebody sitting next to them. A true journeyman. The most interesting story was given by the voyager from France who did not even get a kosher meal on her flight.
 
Chilonim Became Religious
Everybody became religious. Once the Chilonim, secular Jews, realized they can leave their rooms, they joined the Minyin. They were early. They were devout. They sat there praying, focused on the words of praise. In the end, the secular Israelis felt so comfortable that they also had no problem talking during the services.
This was the first time in my life that I saw so many people return in penitence. Chabad has been trying for years to put Tefillin on people. One week of quarantine is the best outreach I have ever seen. 
Religious relationships even developed around the hotel, where new Chiloni couples dated without touching, sitting six feet apart.
 
Stuff I am Left With
In quarantine, you learn something about yourself.
 
I learned that I am fine smelling like bath gel if that’s all I have to wash my clothes with. I don’t like cottage cheese anymore, but that may change in a day or two after I get out. I learned how to make going to the reception to pick up milk take twenty minutes, and how to keep a friend on the phone for forty-five minutes when they have to run. I learned that afternoon naps can last five hours, and touching cashews first during a pandemic is much smarter than touching peanuts. Cashews are more expensive; you want them for yourself. I learned that when it comes to leaving my room, I am extremely devout. I even show up two hours early to services. I learned that solitary confinement can be depressing without a Minyin.
 
Minyin saved me. Shabbat Saved me. Lighting candles saved me. The comradery that quarantining together as a religious nation allows for, saved the secular Israelis. 
Only in Israel do people share their quarantine with other people. Everything beautiful about living in Israel is seen in the quarantine hotel, how we isolate as a community next to one another. A nation reuniting in the hardest of times, distancing together in solitude with all of the people, praying right next to Jews from all over the world. When you’re together there is nothing to fear, other than the coronavirus.
Being quarantined in Israel was the greatest experience of my life. Book your ticket. Skip the Kotel and go to the Corona Hotel.

The Rebbe of Lublin was a great Rebbe, and he lived in Lublin. He did not live in Lvov. He lived in Lublin. They were thinking of calling him the Rebbe of Lvov, but he didn't live there, and he didn't even like visiting Lvov.
Every morning, he would sit at the head of his table and pray, 'H' I'm praying for my breakfast.' And at that moment, his servant would come out and bring him his breakfast. At that point, the Rebbe would say, 'H' thank you for my breakfast.' And the servant was bothered, as he knew he wasn't Gd. He had some friends that were pretentious and gaudy, who thought they were great, but he knew he wasn't Gd. He was bringing the rebbe his breakfast, not Gd.
The next day, as always, the Rebbe did the same, coming home, sitting in his seat and singing to Gd, 'H' I'm praying for my breakfast.' The servant then brought out the breakfast, and the Rebbe said, 'H' thank you for my breakfast.' And the servant went back to the kitchen, angry, wanting to yell, 'When will he learn my name?!! I've been working for him for years. I am not Gd. Does he not know where his breakfast comes from?' 
To note, saying 'servant' is OK. This is the 1800s. Being a servant was a good job.
The next day, the same thing happened, and the servant was angered that the Rebbe shows appreciation to Gd and not to him. The servant then came up with a scheme. He decided that he won't bring him breakfast the next morning. A better scheme would've been to bring the Rebbe bull's-eye eggs. The Rebbe liked them scrambled. Bull's-eye would've thrown the Rebbe for a loop.
That next morning, the Rebbe started praying, 'H' I'm praying for my breakfast.' The servant came out with an empty tray. That was funny in an ironic way back then. The field of comedy wasn't fully developed yet. It was pre-vaudeville. At that exact moment, there was a knock at the door, and a man stood there thanking the Rebbe, as his wife is OK. He stood there with food, and asked the Rebbe to take it, as a gesture of their appreciation. And the Rebbe ate it and said, 'H' thank you for my breakfast.' How the eggs were still warm is a miracle that nobody can explain to this day. 
And from that moment on, the servant knew he would never get thanked.

Lessons of What Followed
He understood from the incident that he would never be appreciated, as all comes from Gd. To feel fulfilled, he started looking to alcohol. Yet. He showed up to work every day, on time, and always made breakfast, lest he lose his job to another thankful congregant.
It turns out the servant didn't get the raise he was hoping for. It was impossible for him to find the right time to ask for a raise. Gd got in the way of that too.
What bothered the servant even more was that the Rebbe couldn't even thank the guy at the door. It appears he forgot that guy's name too.

Check out the song on Journeys II