Rebbetzen Tziporah: Courage

 Dear friends,

What is fear?

When we were children, we were afraid of thunder. It was loud, mysterious, beyond our control.  It was our first whisper of Hashem’s power. It was created, the talmud says, to straighten out the crookedness in our hearts.

There’s a deeper kind of fear, though. Not of the unknown, not of punishment—but of the awareness that there is a Being who holds all power, who created the world and sustains every detail. Yirat Shamayim—fear of Heaven—doesn’t mean we tremble like scared children. It means we recognize that no one and nothing else truly controls what happens to us. Only Hashem does. And that awareness brings both humility and peace.

Anyone who truly lives with that fear—with that clarity—has nothing else to be afraid of.

Reb Asher Freund, one of Yerushalayim’s great tzaddikim, lived this truth. His home was open day and night. There was always food on the stove, mattresses on the floor, every kind of drama you can imagine, and kindness in the air. Before every Pesach, he would prepare massive quantities of food—not just for the poor who came regularly, but also for families who were struggling silently, overwhelmed by holiday expenses. One year, after spending enormous effort and money on chickens stored in rented industrial freezers, a neighbor—irritated by the scene—pulled the plug. By the time it was discovered, the stench needed no further explanation. Rev Asher not only lost the chickens, disappointing those who had no other way to make a normal Passover, but he also had to hire a crew to clean out the freezers.

Instead of becoming angry or broken, Reb Asher asked to be taken to his favorite spot in the Jerusalem Forest. He needed to talk it out with Hashem. One of his assistants stayed in the car and heard him say over and over again, “I know. It’s not him. It’s You.” And then, unexpectedly, he asked to return to the same place once more. This time he said, “I know it is You, so it is good. Thank You.”

This is what it looks like when fear of G-d becomes clarity of G-d. When you truly know that He is behind every detail, even the painful ones—then your heart is free. You’re not afraid of people, not afraid of loss, not afraid of effort that seems wasted. Because you know it’s not wasted. It’s from Hashem. And if it’s from Him, then it’s good.

Reb Asher is no longer here in this world. But surely, in Gan Eden, it is good for him—just as he and this is no doubt one of the days that brought him higher than he ever would have been had things worked out as expected.  May we let some of his clarity, and from his courage become what we are inside and can become outside as well.

Tomorrow, my daughter Devora will be leading a group to visit the resting places of tzadikim in the North. It’s a special journey—one that touches something deep in the soul. I hope we are worthy of standing at their graves—not just to admire them as being more than we are, but to remember that they were human beings, just like us. They overcame fears, faced real-life struggles, and lived in a way that left behind light for us to walk by. The merit they earned is not just theirs—it’s a source of strength for us, if we choose to draw from it.

I’ll share more about the trip next week, b’ezrat Hashem.

Love,
Tziporah

[Sorry for the delay with this letter.  - The Admin]