Here is my story: The summer that changed everything
Mr Kory Bardash
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Today it is quite normal for American girls to study abroad for a year, but in 1961 people hardly flew and no one went to Israel. But that year, after I graduated early from high school, when I was just sixteen and a half, my father decided to send me to Israel for a few months to study.
I was so excited, not only because of everything I had learned about the Holy Land, but also because this was an opportunity to have a personal audience with the Rebbe. About a week before my departure, I entered the Rebbe’s room with trepidation along with my parents.
The Rebbe first spoke to my father about my accommodations and studies. Then he looked at me and asked what my itinerary was.
“I’m travelling via England,” I replied. There were no direct flights at the time.
“Not through France?” asked the Rebbe.
I found the question strange – the Rebbe knew that France and England are different countries. But luckily I have an older brother who always wanted to teach me how to be a real Chasid: “Esther, there is a reason for every word the Rebbe says; nothing is accidental.”
“If the Rebbe wants me to travel via France, we can exchange the ticket and I will go to France,” I quickly replied, because I thought he wanted something from me there.
“Yes,” he said. “I want you to be my emissary.” The Rebbe wanted me to visit a Chabad girls’ school in the town of Yerres, just outside Paris, on his behalf, where I could tell the girls what was happening in New York.
I was very shy in high school – inhibited, insecure, and with low self-esteem – so I found the idea confusing. What could I say to a group of high school and college girls from another country?
As I watched in amazement, the Rebbe added, “There is only one problem.”
Just one? I thought to myself.
The Rebbe noted that since I did not speak French, I would have to communicate with the French girls in Hebrew. But since I only knew the Ashkenazi dialect of Hebrew, I had to practice Hebrew with an Israeli accent, which the girls there spoke fluently.
Then he continued, “When you come to Israel, I want you to establish a B’nos Chabad there.” The Rebbe gave me the names of two women who would help me establish the first branch of this organization for Chabad girls in Israel. I just nodded.
The Rebbe then began to search for something in the drawers of his desk before moving to a metal cabinet on the wall opposite his desk.
Finally he sat down again. “I wanted to give you something, but I don’t have it with me. So please come back tomorrow.” He gave me a few travel greetings and wished me good luck.
I walked out with my head spinning.
The next day I went to the Rebbe again and he gave me a prayer book with a book of Psalms on the back. After instructing me to recite at least the first chapter of the Psalms of the day’s portion, he again wished me a safe journey.
Despite my skepticism, I had learned from my father that we do whatever the Rebbe wants, no matter how hard it is. But I had to prepare quickly. I got hold of copies of the Rebbe’s last talks and asked an Israeli cousin to use them to write several Hebrew speeches. My father woke me up every morning at 5:30 a.m., when my mind was still fresh, so I could practice reciting these speeches in front of the mirror.
Soon I was on my way to France. At the airport I was greeted by the school’s director and then at the school by 150 singing and cheering girls. I later learned that most of them had come from Morocco and many of their parents were still there. They felt it was a great honor that the Rebbe had thought of them and sent someone to visit them.
That evening I gave one of my speeches. I thought that would be it. But after lights out at 10:00 p.m., girls from other dorm rooms suddenly started coming up to me. They didn’t just want a speech; they wanted me to really tell them about 770 and the Rebbe.
And so every night that week I broke my teeth answering question after question in the best Hebrew I could muster. I marveled at the reverence the girls showed toward the Rebbe, even though they never saw him and barely heard recordings of his voice. One night I even taught them the song Ata Vichartanu, which the Rebbe had taught a few months earlier, and we stayed up all night singing it.
After arriving in Israel, I contacted the two women the Rebbe had mentioned. The seminary I attended, Bais Yaakov in Jerusalem, was not very friendly to Chabad, and their Lubavitcher students were afraid of being seen as such. So our organization was secret at first, but we ended up having a beautiful B’nos Chabad and bringing with us some wonderful teachers who taught chasidut, which these girls had never had before.
Throughout my stay in Israel, I wrote the Rebbe a lot, and he remained very involved in my life and activities. When school ended, I received a message from the Rebbe saying I was going to be a counselor at a summer camp in Kfar Chabad, which was also a wonderful experience. Finally, just before Rosh Hashanah, I returned to New York.
The day before Yom Kippur, the Rebbe would distribute lekach, honey cakes, to all the men, and the men would usually share the cakes with the rest of their families. But this year, my father suggested that I go myself, since I had served as the Rebbe’s emissary.
“Women are not allowed!” I protested, because I felt like I didn’t belong.
But a few hours later, I felt guilty for not listening to my father and decided to go to 770. Just as I approached the building, I saw my father running out. When he had asked the Rebbe for lekach to bring me, the Rebbe had said, “Esther should come herself!”
And so I went. My father led me back, past thousands of men, until we stood before the Rebbe.
“I told your father to come!” the Rebbe said to me with a big smile. And with that he gave me some lekach and the traditional blessing for a happy new year. Since I fulfilled that command from the Rebbe, I came back every year for lekach.
Years later, I spoke to some women who remembered my visit to Yerres. “You were such a lively girl and so full of interesting information,” they reminisced.
Really? I was lively back then? But it was true: I went from being an introverted high school girl to a much more outgoing woman, and that was when my development began. By appointing me as his emissary, the Rebbe transformed me.
Ms. Esther Sternberg is an activist and educator who has been involved with N’shei Chabad, the Lubavitch Women’s Organization, and the Shabbat Candle Lighting Campaign for decades. She was interviewed in Crown Heights in 2012 and 2017.
