A chassid told the Ruzhiner Rebbe his deepest kavana came during Shema Yisrael. But the Rebbe wanted to know—what about when you say Pote’ach et yadecha? What does it really mean to be a Ruzhiner chassid?
The Ruzhiner Rebbe had a royal lineage from King David himself. But when his granddaughter married the son of Rav Hershele of Rimanov, the Rimanover’s “yichus” wasn’t a scroll—it was how he bought an extra apple each week l’kavod Shabbos.
Sometimes the holiest legacy isn’t inherited....it’s lived.
They thought holiness meant always doing the right thing. But the Ruzhiner Rebbe showed them something deeper—what it means to be honest with your own heart.
They found a starving nine-year-old boy dancing on a broken porch, glowing with joy. When asked why, he said, “I realized how much I have—and how little I’ve thanked Hashem for it.” That boy became the Rebbe Menachem Mendel of Rimanov.
On Tisha B'Av, the Rhuziner’s chassidim tried anything to escape the sadness, even setting a wild prank in the beis medrash. But when the rope accidentally hoisted the Rebbe himself, his response wasn’t anger....it was a tefillah.
A chassid came to say goodbye. It just wasn’t working out for him in Eretz Yisrael. But when his Rebbe said, “If Yerushalayim had found grace in your eyes, you would’ve found grace in hers,” something shifted.
May we all merit to find grace in Yerushalayim, and bring her the one thing she’s still waiting for.
By the heilige Rav Naftali of Ropshitz, every Motzei Shabbos was a gentle goodbye to Shabbos and a warm welcome to the Yom Tov that followed.....except one - Tisha B’Av.
Some guests we just don’t want to let in.
The Chofetz Chaim would weep when he recalled how the Beis HaLevi agreed to become Rav of Brisk after hearing, “25,000 Jews are waiting for you.” And then he’d ask: What if we turned to Hashem and said, “Master of the world, millions of Yidden are waiting for Moshiach…”
Wouldn’t that change everything?
Before his student left for Yerushalayim, the Sanzer Rav cried out: “Send my love. Tell her I’m coming. Slowly, limping, but I’m coming.” Sometimes all Yerushalayim is waiting for… is our regards.
Rabbi Chanina ben Dosa had nothing, but he still dreamed of bringing an offering to the Beis HaMikdash. What happened next is a reminder that when the heart burns with pure desire, even the heaviest stones can be lifted.
At just three years old, a young Rav Shlomo Carlebach thought the Beis HaMikdash had been rebuilt because the fast was over and his parents were eating again. What followed was a chain of tears, memory, and a story passed down through generations, with no real ending. Maybe that’s the point.
Rav Shlomo Carlebach once witnessed a Tisha B’Av custom in France: each person blew out their candle during Eicha—then relit it. But one Jew did something Rav Shlomo never forgot. When the lights go out, sometimes the deepest prayers are the ones left unspoken.
Reb Baruch of Mezhibuzh wept over just a few lines in the siddur. So when his chassidim showed him an entire sefer on korbanos, he was stunned. How can you write calmly about something we no longer have? When Torah isn’t history—but heartbreak—you feel the loss. Do we?
On Motzei Tisha B’Av, the Lelover Rebbe told the Bialer Rebbe why the fast felt easy: “I didn’t think I’d need to finish it.” When you live expecting the Geula any minute, time bends differently…
Can you hear the stones cry? Reb Shloime’le of Zvhil said you can, especially during the Three Weeks. And one tzaddik refused to visit the Kosel on Tisha B’Av… because even the walls go silent.
While mourning the Churban on Tisha B’Av, a man was interrupted with a request for help. The Premishlaner Rebbe gently told him: You were just handed a chance to start rebuilding the Beis HaMikdash. What do we choose—tears, or bricks?
One Friday night in Auschwitz, two Alexander chassidim whispered memories of their Rebbe’s tish and suddenly, every Shabbos they ever experienced returned in full.
Rav Shlomo Carlebach heard the story. What does it mean to taste eternity in the darkest place on earth?
At a Vishnitzer tish, the Rebbe gave overflowing honor to someone no one recognized, and who didn’t seem to "deserve" it. When asked why, his answer held the key to rebuilding the Beis HaMikdash.
After the horrors of Auschwitz, two survivors finally looked in a mirror, and couldn’t bear what they saw.
But when they looked at each other, something else emerged.
What does it mean to see beauty with the eyes of the Beis HaMikdash?
When a chassid came to the Apter Rebbe for personal advice, the Rebbe suddenly broke down in tears. But not for the reason you’d expect.
Sometimes, the deepest tears aren’t about you at all.