Vignettes from the remarkable life of
Rabbi Shimshon Pinkus zt'l

Many years ago, a young woman returned to Eretz Yisroel from a visit to her husband’s family in the States; while there, her husband had decided to leave his religion. Now she had come back to her former home, together with her three small children, hoping to begin her life anew.

“When my ex-husband was finally willing to give me a get,” related the woman, now happily remarried and a grandmother many times over, “he insisted that, as part of the settlement, we sell our home with all of the furniture and appliances. The money was to be used to repay the many debts that he had accrued – almost all of them to people living in our small community. I was left penniless, without even a roof over my head.

“When I finally returned to my old home, the community there tried to help me in every way possible. Many of my old neighbors came over to me and said that it was ridiculous that I should have to sell my home to pay my ex-husband’s debts. Their sentiments made a lot of sense to me.

“Reb Shimshon, also, came to visit. With his incredible simplicity and emes, he said, ‘It is true that what the beis din paskened does not seem to be just. But a halacha is a halacha, even if we are not able to fathom it.’

“But what he said next made everything even more clear. ‘You were moser nefesh to stay chareidi even though your husband did not. Certainly you would not do anything contrary to the halacha.’

“I recognized the simple truth of what he was saying,” continued the woman. “Thanks to Reb Shimshon, I was able to pass a difficult test.”

Several days later, Reb Shimshon presented this woman with an enormous sum of money – enough to tide her over until she could finally manage to stand on her own two feet.

For Reb Shimshon there was only one reality – the all-encompassing truth of Torah. And every situation was judged by the exacting standard of this pure, unadulterated truth.

***

“Many years ago, I ran the mikveh in Tifrach,” an older resident told me. “At that time, the mikveh was very rundown, and money was a major problem. One day, people emerged from the water and noticed small white specks of paint stuck to their hands. We realized that this came from the peeling paint on the handrail of the stairs leading into the mikveh.

“The Rav gave instructions that until the mikveh would be fixed, all users were to check their hands once again while in the water, and if necessary rewash them,” the caretaker continued. “The next morning I was surprised when Reb Shimshon, a chashuva maggid shiur in the yeshiva, arrived at my doorstep. He had heard of the problem, and wanted to look at it himself.

“By the time I went to work later that day,” the caretaker concluded, “the problem had been fixed. Reb Shimshon himself had repainted much of the mikveh.”

***

A talmid told me the following story: “I first met Reb Shimshon over twenty years ago when I was visiting my brother in Ofakim. We were on our way to daven Kabollas Shabbos when my brother met him on the street and introduced us. He gave me a hearty shalom aleichem, and continued to talk with us as we continued walking to shul. Suddenly, without warning, he turned around and dashed home. I was absolutely dumbfounded and waited to see what would happen next.

“Reb Shimshon returned with a long ladder and began to climb the post that held the eiruv. His keen eyesight had noticed that the eiruv was torn. The ladder was not long enough to reach the top, and in order to fix the eiruv properly, Reb Shimshon had to climb the pole itself.

“When Reb Shimshon finally climbed down from the ladder, he was filthy, and covered with sweat. ‘Do you realize that we just merited saving a large tzibbur from carrying in a forbidden manner?’ Reb Shimshon asked me. There was not enough time before davening to return the ladder, or change into clean clothes. Reb Shimshon walked into shul – unkempt, but with the most beautiful smile gracing his face.”

***

With his clear perception of emes, Reb Shimshon was able to see beyond formalities, straight to the heart of the matter. His greatest happiness was helping others accomplish mitzvos. His kavod was truly kavod haTorah.

“In the olden days,” a talmid of his told me, “Reb Shimshon would give a shmuess for the entire yeshiva during Shalosh Seudos. In those days, he was not so well known. We felt that he was completely ‘ours.’ All the Yungeleit would arrive early for Maariv to hear his talk. The placed was literally packed.

“I came to the yeshiva in Tifrach from Ohr Somayach,” the talmid continued. “There, my rebbe spoke about the importance of ‘assei lecha rav,’ of finding a rav whose personality fits your own. The first time I heard Reb Shimshon give a shmuess, he spoke about the midda of emes. He began his lecture by showing how we should react when things are the opposite of emes; when something is lacking in truth. If a person were to tell you, for example, that it is permissible to eat chazir, you would not give him a lomdishe answer, but would literally scream in disgust. ‘That,’ Reb Shimshon continued, ‘is how we should view something that is lacking in emes. It should be absolutely revolting in our eyes.’ When I heard these words from Reb Shimshon, I knew that I had finally found my true rebbe.”

***

“Over 20 years ago, I was sitting and talking with Reb Shimshon when we began to discuss the situation in Eretz Yisroel. ‘Eretz Yisroel,’ Reb Shimshon told me, ‘is like a time bomb. The place is going to blow up – it’s just a matter of time.’ When I asked him why he continues to live here,” said the talmid, “he told me that he could not leave the geshmakeit of Eretz Yisroel. Reb Shimshon’s next words were said so simply; they were completely from the heart: ‘My purpose in life is to be a true oveid Hashem. Because of that, I am not afraid to die.’ At the time it seemed so clear and obvious.”

Because Reb Shimshon viewed everything in light of Torah, he had the incredible ability to make the most spiritual comments seem almost mundane.

“Years ago,” the same talmid told me, “I was in Reb Shimshon’s English Gemora shiur. One morning, Reb Shimshon arrived later than usual. It was an extremely hot day – even for Tifrach in the summer. He told us, as though it was in no way unusual, that he had gone into the nearby chicken coops to provide the chickens with water.

“Reb Shimshon was pure Torah,” continued the talmid. “Many people know that the Torah prohibits us to harm animals. But Reb Shimshon really knew it.”

***

Reb Shimshon saw that everything, truly everything, was related to the emes of Torah.

Reb Shimshon had a unique ability to love each and every Jew. “At my older daughter’s vort,” a talmid related, “Reb Shimshon, of course, was the guest of honor. Our other son was there as well. He certainly did not fit in with his pierced ears and spiked hairdo.

“Most of the guests at our simcha tried to ignore our son, to pretend he did not exist – but not Reb Shimshon. With his incredible smile, Reb Shimshon went straight over to him and gave him a big hug and kiss. He asked after his welfare, and then gave him the most beautiful beracha for success in all things – ruchniyus as well as gashmiyus.

“Today, our son, baruch Hashem, has returned to his heritage,” concluded the father. “I am sure that much of the reason is the acceptance he was shown by my Rebbe.”

Reb Shimshon was so connected to the truth that he was able to see the emes – the pintele Yid hidden within each Jewish heart – and somehow find his way straight to it.

***

Reb Shimshon was renowned for his chessed. An old Sefardi Jew stood in shock when he saw the crowds at Reb Shimshon’s levaya. He told the people standing there that since it was difficult for him to write in Hebrew, he had always asked Reb Shimshon to write his letters for him. He had no idea that the nice man with the big smile was none other than the Rav of Ofakim.

Reb Shimshon had an incredible ability to see the needs of others. In this way he was able to find the emes hidden in people’s hearts.

There was a girl in the community who had an especially large shoe size. Finding shoes for her was almost impossible. One evening Reb Shimshon showed up at the family’s home with several pairs of shoes. “While I was in the States,” he said, “I just happened to pass a specialty shoe store and thought your daughter might like these.”

“I was privileged to be neighbors with Reb Shimshon and his family in Moshav Tifrach over 25 years ago,” a woman told me. “At the time, they lived in a tiny two-room apartment. The apartment was so primitive, that it did not even have a proper floor, only raw cement. Despite their living conditions, all those who came to visit them were made to feel completely at home.

“Both Reb Shimshon and his wife never lectured, but with their example showed others how to live a true Torah life. While giving the deepest mussar lesson, they had a way of making one feel that it was just a simple, friendly conversation; that they were your friends – the same as you. I will never forget how the Rebbetzin once came to my house to use my sewing machine. In the end, she taught me how to make my own clothes more tzanua.”

***

Perhaps part of the reason why people felt so close to Reb Shimshon was because he managed to relate to each person as an individual.

“One time, when my husband arrived late to Reb Shimshon’s shmuess, another man was sitting in my husband’s regular seat,” a talmid’s wife told me. “When my husband walked into the room, Reb Shimshon immediately noticed, and, with his usual humor, asked the other man to let my husband have his seat back.

“This was not a weekly shiur, but a shmuess given in our neighborhood once every few weeks. Even though Reb Shimshon traveled throughout the world and spoke to hundreds of people, he was able to remember such an insignificant detail.”

It was davka because of his incredible love for his fellow Jews that Reb Shimshon made sure to be aware of these small details.

***

The funeral for Reb Shimshon, his wife, Chaya Mindel and daughter, Miriam, was held on a Thursday afternoon, just a few hours before the time of bedikas chametz. Tens of thousands of people left their homes on what is probably the busiest day of the year, to show their last respects to their rebbe.

While standing in the unusually chilly spring weather, I heard comments from all sides. “We were so close.” “He did so much for me.” It seemed as though each person there had a special, intimate relationship with Reb Shimshon.

“As I was walking up Rechov Sorotzkin, towards the masses of people, I saw one of my teachers from Sem. ‘How did you know him?’ I asked her. ‘How could anyone not know him?’ she replied.”

Each of the thousands of people who had come to the funeral felt that they had a personal relationship with Reb Shimshon. Each of the thousands standing there felt that this tragedy was their personal loss.

Two years ago, an avreich was brutally murdered in the early morning while he was walking to shul. “I will never forget what Reb Shimshon said at the shmuess he gave following the levaya,” said one of his talmidim. “He told us that sometimes Hashem takes one tzaddik from this world, and by doing so He clears up the entire cheshbon.”

A few days after the levaya, Rabbi Chaim Kanievski was speaking to a group of avreichim about the loss of Reb Shimshon. He quoted from the Talmud Yerushalmi, which says that at the time that a harsh decree is placed upon the Jewish nation, that generation’s tzaddik is taken away. (As heard from Reb Yitzchak Deitsch.)

We have truly lost a tzaddik.

May his memory be a blessing.

Back to Homepage