23 Dec CANYON OF HEROES

“Vayigash, and he approached”.
The parsha opens with Yehuda pleading to
Yosef on behalf of his youngest brother,
Binyamin.
Picture it. Yosef, Viceroy to the Pharaoh,
sitting on a regal throne. His brothers
standing before him. They don’t recognize

him, never imagining that the seventeen-
year-old boy they sold, would someday be a

leader in Egypt.
Yosef sees it as an opportunity to find out if
his brothers have changed their ways and
are remorseful for their past. He comes up
with a plan.
Unbeknownst to the brothers, Yosef had a
silver goblet planted in Binyamin’s sack.
Thereby, implicating his brother as a thief.
Yosef and Binyamin were the only two sons
of Yaakov and Rochel. Yosef was setting up
a scene, waiting to see how it would play
out. Would the brothers, sons of Leah,
Bilhah and Zilpah be there to speak up for
Binyamin? Would they beg and plead for

his freedom, or “throw him into the pit” as
they did to Yosef?
If Binyamin, son of Rochel, was in trouble,
how would the brothers react.
It was Yehuda who stepped up to the plate.
Like a true diplomat, he opened softly, with
great respect. “Bi Adoni, Please my master,
do not be angry with your servant.”
(Bereishis 44:18)
He continued on and spoke with strength,
hoping to appeal to Yosef’s emotions,
telling of an elderly father who had already
lost one son from his wife, Rochel. If the
remaining son, Binyamin, would not return,
it would destroy him. Yehuda even offered
himself as a slave instead of Binyamin.
“Please, let your servant remain, instead of
the youth.” (Bereishis 44:33)
Upon hearing Yehuda’s plea, Yosef realizes
that the brothers did change. Yehuda, who
earlier had wanted to sell Yosef, now shows
remorse, speaking up for Binyamin and
even offering to take his place.
“And Yehuda said, how can I return to my
father, if the child (Binyamin) is not with
me?”

(Bereishis 44:34).
This passage is not only giving us
Yehuda’s words, but a message for
generations to come. A message
that speaks to us on so many
different levels.
HaRav Kalonymus Kalman Shapira
The Piaseczna Rebbe, also known
as the “Aish Kodesh “, the Holy
Fire, perished in the Holocaust. His
writings on the Torah survived, and
are still studied today. The Rebbe has a
deeper explanation for this passage. “How
can I return to my father?” – How can I
stand before my Father in Heaven without
my brothers, without my fellow Jews?
Words expressed by a man who lost his
entire family, yet spent the last days of his
life mentoring, encouraging and teaching
Torah in the Warsaw Ghetto.
The Piaseczna Rebbe understood that he
had a mission in life. To be there for others,
even to the last moments of his own life.
We all carry a responsibility to be there for
each other. To share the beauty of Torah
with one another. To open our homes, our
Shabbos tables, our hearts. At the end of
the day, each of us must be able to say,
HaShem, I cared, I tried, I did my very
best. Each day that HaShem gives us the
gift of life, is another day to do, to
accomplish, to bring blessing to the world.
It means HaShem trusts us with the
mission of a new day.
“How can I return to my father if the child
isn’t with me?”
Stories of heroism at Bondi Beach are still
emerging. I recently saw a clip where
fourteen-year-old Chaya Dadon is
interviewed. She was at the beach on that
first night of Chanukah. When the shooting
began, she hid under a bench, saying
Shema. For a moment, she picked her
head up, and noticed an elderly woman
who was shot in the stomach, and a
younger woman who was shot in the head.
Each was bleeding out. She hears the call,
“Save my children, save my children”.
Chaya knew she had to do something.
Afraid as she was, she felt that HaShem
wanted her to save the children. She
quickly got up and ran towards them. She
heard shouts from others, “Get down, save
yourself”, but courageously ignored them.
Two children were beside their mother,
covered in her blood. She was no longer
able to help them, but Chaya did. She laid
down on top of them, shielding them from
harm. And then, she felt it. A shot. In her
leg. She was in intense pain, but wouldn’t

stop reassuring the little ones that they were
loved.
The interviewer asked, “You’re only
fourteen, how did you do it?” Chaya spoke
of channeling her pain to strength. Of
knowing that one has a mission in life. As
Chaya said, “I told myself, if I die saving
the children’s lives, I die. But, I knew that it
was what G-d wanted from me, to save the
children.”
(Update: As of this writing, Chaya was
released from the hospital following
surgery, and is doing well. Boruch
HaShem.)
There are so many ways one can be a hero.
This past week was the yahrtzeit of my
Zeide, Harav Avraham HaLevi Jungreis
zt”l. Coincidentally – though we know there
are no coincidences – Judy approached me
and shared a story. A story about my zeide
and her father. It goes back to post World
War II in a DP (Displaced Persons) camp in
Switzerland. Her father was a rov in the
camp, ready to give advice and support.
In the camp, there was a group of teenage
boys and girls, many of them war orphans.
They had left behind the frum world they
grew up in. They acted in ways that were
not appropriate. As much as he tried, Judy’s
father was unable to influence them. He
approached my zeide, and told him that he
was the only rabbi who could reach the
neshamos of these youth. And reach them
Zeide did.
How did Zeide do it? With love… with
heart… with understanding. With seeing
every Jew as a good Jew.
“How can I return to my ‘Father’ if the child
isn’t with me?” Each of us has a defining
moment in life where we must ask ourselves
this question. Yehuda taught us the meaning
of taking responsibility for the vulnerable.
Chaya showed us how to truly appreciate
the mission that HaShem has given each of
us in this world. And Zeide was a living
example of one who never gives up on any
Jew, who sees the Tzelem Elokim, the
image of HaShem in every neshama.