My parents, Rabbi Meshulem Jungreis, a’h, and Rebbetzin Esther Jungreis, tichyeh, were the rabbi and rebbetzin of the only Orthodox synagogue in North Woodmere in the 1960s. Since there was no local yeshiva, my parents sent me to a yeshiva in Queens.
As I embarked on my first day in the 3rd grade, my dad accompanied me to the bus stop at 7:15 a.m. I was told there would be no seats on the bus, so I brought along my attaché case to use as a seat. As we waited for the bus, a palpable sense of trepidation and anxiety engulfed me. The moment had finally arrived in which I was about to begin this new experience at a school that I had no familiarity with at all. Terrifying thoughts raced through my mind at blinding speed. No friends . . . new school . . . a brand new venture.
As the old yellow school bus pulled up to the bus stop, I turned around and waved to my father. As I boarded the bus, I noticed 60 strange eyes staring at me. My fears continued unabated and I needed one last measure of security. I turned around once again to wave to my dad and he waved back at me. The bus pulled away and I began to cry.
My father told me to make sure I took the first desk in the classroom so I would be sitting right in front of the rebbi. I walked into my classroom and sat down in the front of the class. I didn’t know one student. Very scared, I sat there waiting for the class to begin.
The rebbi walked in, sat in his chair, and called out attendance. I looked up and glanced to the right of the classroom door through a clear glass window—and there he was! My father’s regal appearance could not be missed. He stood there waving to me through the window, mouthing the words, “Everything will be okay.”
Unbeknownst to me, my father had seen me crying through the window of the bus and decided to follow the bus in his car to my new school. He had wanted to ensure that I arrived there safely and did all he could so that my very first day would not be entirely traumatic.
My father was known as a gentle giant, a man steeped in kindness whose words and manner of speaking reflected the radiance of his loving soul. He spent his days and nights passionately imparting the great lessons of the Torah and authentic spirituality to the community of North Woodmere. A vast majority of these people had no prior formal or informal Jewish education and knew virtually nothing about their majestic heritage. My father was also renowned for having the broadest of shoulders (in the metaphorical sense) and everyone who came to know him viewed him as a pillar of compassion, comfort, inner strength, and security. Because he intuitively felt everyone’s pain so acutely, people were naturally inclined to reach out to him during challenging times. They knew he would instinctually comprehend their problems, empathize with them, and provide the kind of wisdom and guidance that would serve to help them navigate the often bumpy highway of life.
There are times in life when we need some reassurance that everything will be okay. Whether it’s a health crisis, the loss of a loved one, a family feud, a difficult child, or financial concerns, my father was ever present to allay the manifold fears that grip us all and to reassure us with his warm voice, loving smile, and words of Torah wisdom. Hearing those words “everything will be okay” provided me with an unimaginable level of security.
At sleepaway camp, I was fortunate enough to receive the most mail. Numerous letters of all shapes and colors arrived daily—mostly from my dad, who told me how much he loved and missed me. His sensitivity and loving heart afforded him the ability to reach out to others in pain and anguish. He so readily provided them with the requisite faith, hope, and courage to tackle whatever was placed before us. To this very day, his words of comfort and advice have left an indelible impression on the hearts and minds of those he counseled so many decades ago.
On Father’s Day, let’s remember our parents’ unconditional love. And for those of us who were not as fortunate, let’s remember those very special people with whom we share such a unique bond. Let’s take the time to contemplate and appreciate all the goodness they’ve done for us. And for those of you whose parents are still with you, take this opportunity to write them a note expressing your heartfelt thanks for something they have done for you.
I thank G‑d for giving me a father who not only loved me and my siblings, but who devoted every moment of his life to his family, his community, and his people. He not only impacted my life in immeasurable ways, but profoundly touched the lives of countless individuals. The driving force in my father’s life was a constant and abiding love for every person, and it was precisely this love that came to define his legacy. May my father’s precious soul be bound for eternal life and may his memory and good deeds be for a blessing to us all. v
In loving memory of HaRav Meshulum HaLevi Jungreis ben HaGaon HaRav Asher Anschel HaLevi Jungreis, zt’l. Reprinted from Aish.com.
Rabbi Yisroel Jungreis is the Rav of Hineni, the internationally renowned Torah outreach organization founded in 1973 by his mother, Rebbetzin Esther Jungreis. Rabbi Yisroel lectures extensively, including the weekly lunch and learn in the boardroom at JP Morgan, and is co-author of Torah for Your Table (Shaar Press).