Introduction and Questions by Varda Branfman,

Answers and Sidebar by the Ribnitzer Rebbetzin

Married
to a Tzaddik:
The Ribnitzer Rebbetzin Speaks about her Life
with the Rebbe, Rav Chaim Zanvil Abramowitz, zt"l
I had every reason to feel intimidated. I was waiting to meet with the
Rebbetzin of the Ribnitzer Rebbe, may his memory be for a blessing,
whom everyone called a “Baal Mofes,” a miracle worker, someone
venerated as unique in his generation.
Not that there are any “ordinary” Rebbetzins or even “ordinary” Jews in
the world when you scratch the surface. But one of the few details I knew
about the Ribnitzer Rebbetzin made her sound truly extraordinary—the
fact that she had married the Rebbe in 1980 (after his previous Rebbetzin
passed away), when she was 33 years old, and he was approximately 90
years old.
I remembered my husband’s sage and terse advice: “Just be yourself,”
as he disappeared and I went to open the door for the Rebbetzin. And
then I saw her with that big, warm smile on her face as she said “Hi” and
clasped my hand in hers. Standing before me was one of the most down
to earth, unpretentious, completely unintimidating, and most real people I
had ever met.
Everyone calls her “Rebbetzin,” including her sisters. Her presence exudes
malchus and her conversation is always purposeful and replete with her
life’s experience and wisdom. The big surprise is that she is both bigger
than life and completely natural and comfortable to be with. What happens
when you are around her is that you feel connected to the greatness in
your own soul which, of course, makes you feel very, very good.
The Rebbetzin is an accomplished writer who has written lyrics for
Mordechai Ben Dovid and other performing artists. Her main work-in-
progress is a book about the Rebbe, based on her life with him during l6
years of marriage, as well as interviews with some of the thousands of
people whose lives he touched. So far, the Rebbetzin has conducted over
800 interviews in Israel, alone.
I start out with the most obvious question that would occur to anyone
who knows her story and has the chutzpa to ask:

So how did you overcome the age

difference between you and the Rebbe?
What age difference? Through the lenses Hashem gave me, I saw this
differently. A newborn infant laying in his hospital basinet and a very old
man laying on his deathbed both possess a soul. A soul is not a physical
entity. Its lifespan is eternal. It is only the body that ages, the body being
the home the soul is clothed in.
If you are fortunate enough to recognize your true soul mate, then the
clothing he wears is merely external and simply goes unnoticed. Believe
me, if the Rebbe were 2000 years old, I still would have married him.

Who were you before you

became the Ribnitzer Rebbetzin?
I was born to very exceptional parents, Reb Chaim Alexander, a”h, and
Sima Rochel Neiman, may she live and be well. They were both Holocaust
survivors and immigrated to the U.S. in May, l949 when I was two and
a half. I am the oldest of five sisters and two
brothers.
I grew up in the Williamsburg section of
Brooklyn in the 1950’s and when I was l5 years
old, we moved to Boro Park. I got married in
l964, and Hashem blessed this marriage with
three wonderful, beloved daughters who have,
baruch Hashem, given me grandchildren and great
grandchildren, as well as three outstanding sons-
in-law. The marriage, however, was destined to
end in divorce after twelve and a half years.
After that, I taught at a school in Monsey, but
since my income could not cover the rent, I opened
a hobby and toy shop which I eventually sold at
a loss. I was divorced, alone with three daughters,
jobless, and at an obvious crossroads. In trying
to figure out what to do with my life and where
to turn, I davened to Hashem intensely. Before I
had a chance to absorb the shock, I suddenly, in
a matter of hours, found myself engaged to the
Ribnitzer Rebbe.
So how did you actually become the
Ribnitzer Rebbetzin?
This is a holy, beautiful, heartwarming, and
wondrous story that began way before creation
and will continue on beyond the end of time. It
is too intricate and lengthy to be discussed in an
interview and, with the help of Hashem, the entire
story is already written up in my upcoming book.
How did your life change when you
became the Rebbetzin?
Daily life with the Rebbe was a taste of the World
to Come, a taste of Gan Eden. The sweetness
of being in his presence, the adventure of seeing
all the different sides of his personality, and the
many expressions of his holy countenance were
daily gifts that I cherished. To look at the Rebbe’s
face was to see eternity. I always describe him as
having the innocence and charm of an eighteen-
month-old child, while simultaneously containing
the wisdom of an ancient Patriarch.
So marrying a tzaddik was a big bonus and major
upgrade in the quality of my life, but becoming
a Rebbetzin, ah, now that’s a whole different
story. Adjusting to the Rebbetzin role was a major
challenge. I never wanted it, I never dreamed that
it would turn into my reality. Somehow I never felt
I fit into the standard Rebbetzin mold. I greatly
lacked many of the necessary Rebbetzin qualities.
All I wanted was to marry this particular tzaddik,
and I did so without realizing that becoming a
Rebbetzin was just part of the package.
How did you make that difficult transition
to becoming a Rebbetzin?
Yes, it was a difficult transition, on many levels,
and it took many years to adjust to the role
and accept my reality. Slowly, I began to realize
that, though I do not fit the typical Rebbetzin
mold, Hashem has gifted me with some unique
Rebbetzin qualities, and I say to Him daily,
“Hashem, I owe you a big apology. To be this
Rebbe’s Rebbetzin, gladly. Anytime, any place, any
planet, every lifetime, to eternity, Amen.”
What was most challenging about being
a Rebbetzin?
Truthfully, there were many challenges, but if I
would have to pick the most outstanding one, I
would have to say that it was the almost total lack
of privacy. It was kind of like having hundreds of
mothers-in-law wondering whether I was good
enough for their beloved son. It was accepting the
fact that I was not a private citizen.

How did you deal with it?

I told myself that all the difficulties are merely
commentary, and the reality is that, by the grace
of Hashem, I am married to this tzaddik, and he to
me, and that it is a blessing worth suffering this
discomfort. The problems will pass by and did pass
by, but the Rebbe remains mine forever.

They say that many tzaddikim have a

great sense of humor. What about the
Rebbe?
I’ll share a story with you, and you can be the
judge. Shortly after our marriage, I asked him,
“Rebbe, by the way, how old are you?”
“Oh, I must be getting close to forty,” he
answered me.
“No Rebbe,” I said, “why forty? It’s written:
shemonah esrai l’chupah, that eighteen is the
proper age for a man to marry, and since we just
got married, you must be eighteen, not forty.”
He laughed heartily. “And how old are you,” he
asked?
“Thirty-three,” I answered.
He lifted both his hands and placed them on the
side of his head while saying, “Oy, gevalt, What
have I done here? I married such an old woman.”
That was the style of his humor. Sharp and witty. I
treasured it, for it made life so much more pleasant.
What did you learn from the Rebbe?
Being in the presence of a tzaddik is a continuous
lesson, and to answer this would require a lengthy
chapter. One surprising thing that I learned was
that his simplicity was so greatly deceiving. You
could say that it hid his greatness, or you could
possibly say that it created it.
To know him was a privilege, and yet he was
unknowable. His most outstanding quality was the
fire of enthusiasm that never left him in his service
of Hashem. It was so genuine.
What did the Rebbe expect from you in
your own avodas Hashem?
The Rebbe was a tzaddik, and he was very
meticulous about his own service to Hashem, but
he never expected the same from me. He never
requested or demanded anything that would be
too difficult to comply with.
Since I was fortunate to have a 24-hour built-in
tzaddik on the premises, I took advantage and
would always ask him, “Should I do this or that?
Should I go here or there?” And he would look at
me like “What’s the question?” He would always
answer, “If it makes you happy, then do it. If it
doesn’t, then don’t.”
You see, life can be so simple. When he taught
me that, the Rebbe gave me my wings. He was
also always extraordinarily considerate and
sensitive to my needs.
After counseling a young couple, the Rebbe said
to me, “I don’t know what the problem is with
these young men. They simply do not know how
to be sensitive to their wives’ needs. They should
be taught better. I do not understand why they
don’t come to me so I can teach them.” He really
could have taught them a thing or two.
What did you talk to him about?
What can you not converse with a tzaddik about?
I was able to speak to the Rebbe about anything.
He was so open-minded, so non-judgmental, so
 compassionate, and easy going. He was very
forthcoming, open, so real, and so expressive. He
was not withholding. He loved saying things he
knew would make other people happy.
I was able to think out loud in his presence.
He was very non-threatening. The Rebbe was
not narrow, neither in his way of thinking nor
in his perspective on life. His understanding of
human nature was all- encompassing. And as an
added bonus, his words were wise, prophetic, and
divinely inspired.
No, the Rebbe and I never ran out of things to
say to each other. It’s just that by the design of
Hashem, we did run out of time.
How many years did you actually have
together?
We had just a little short of sixteen years
together. Every day was a blessing. Truthfully,
when I married him I could not even imagine that
Hashem would give us so much time.
I remember distinctly the thought I had the night
we got engaged, prior to drinking l’chaim. I said to
Hashem: “The key to life is only in your hands, and
it is unknown to me how much time you will give
us together. However, I am certain that this is my
place and the calling of my heart and soul.
“Hashem, if all you give me is to walk to the
chupah and back and no more, even if you gave
me one hundred and twenty years, and I was, G-d
forbid, left widowed for another eighty seven, still
I know that there is no other place I would rather
Profile of the Rebbe in Talis and Tefilin-Summer '81
THE ENGLISH UPDATE
18
be than right here.
“Even if that were the situation, I would rejoice
eternally in the ultimate kindness you have
bestowed upon me to have created us soul mates.
Life, even stretched to the limit, is merely the
blinking of an eye. I do pray, though, that you
grant us many blessed years together.”
….And He did.
One last question which I can’t resist asking.
Why do you think you merited to marry the
Rebbe?
I asked myself that same question. Okay,
everyone does some good things in their life, but
I know so many people who are truly righteous,
and I know I don’t even reach their toenails. Even
more so, I know how many pitfalls I’ve had, how
many detours I’ve taken in my life, and how many
wrong choices I’ve made.
I decided to approach the Rebbe and ask him
this puzzling question. One day in the middle of
our conversation, I asked, “Rebbe, I really don’t
know what I ever did to deserve being married
to you?”
He smiled, almost laughed, and said, “And I do
know why, and I’ll tell you. It is because no matter
how much you went through and no matter how
much you suffered, you still maintained a joy for
life and succeeded in being b’simchah and loving
and appreciating life in spite of it. You should know
that there is nothing Hashem loves as much as
joy, and that is why He chose you.”
The Rebbe’s Avodah:
The Rebbe lived in Russia during the K.G.B. era
when it was forbidden to practice anything even
remotely close to religion. That was of little concern
to the Rebbe. The K.G.B. said, “No.” But Hashem
said, “Yes,” and so he listened to Hashem and
acted fearlessly, even putting his very life on the
line.
Prayer was forbidden, yet he managed to pray
daily with a minyan, running around town to gather
the Jews so they could come and join his minyan.
Circumcisions were forbidden, yet he risked his life
to perform them in spite of the evil decree. Kosher
was forbidden, yet he slaughtered chickens and
made sure that the Jews of Ribnitz ate only kosher.
To own a Torah scroll was a definite “No,” but he
owned one anyway.
He did all this right in front of their noses, yet
they were powerless to stop him. Whenever they
tried, something would always happen to them or
to a member of their immediate family, and they
would run to ask his forgiveness. If they promised
not to turn any Jew into the K.G.B. headquarters,
then he agreed to pray on their behalf, and things
always turned around for them.
Mikvah was forbidden, so he cracked the ice in
the river and immersed daily.
He would crack the ice exposing a circle of icy
water, leave his clothing on the ice, and immerse
310 times. Then he would exit amidst the howling
and freezing windstorms with temperatures ranging
even 30 below zero. His clothing would be solidly
frozen. Having no other choice, he would dip his
clothes in the ice water, ring them out, put the wet
clothing on his frozen body, and then run a mile
uphill before reaching home.
© THE ENGLISH UPDATE, 2010.
This article may be reproduced only in a complete, unedited version.
Unfathomable. It appears that as tortuous
and painful as this process must have been, his
consciousness was able to overcome the physical
experience. He must have pierced through the
physical barrier to a place where his own inner fire
and desire to serve Hashem actually melted the icy
waters to the extent that they began bathing him
in their warmth.
The Rebbe fasted every day, except for Shabbos,
and every night he would say the Tikun Chatzos
prayer for hours. The Rebbe would sit on the
ground surrounding himself with burning candles.
He wore sackcloth directly on his skin. He placed
ashes all over his face, body, and clothing, and then
he began saying the 20 minute Chatzos prayer for
the next six to eight hours while he shed oceans
of tears as if he was personally witnessing the
destruction of the Bais Hamikdash right in front of
his eyes and the exile of the holy Shechinah.
The troubles of Am Yisroel were etched deep into
his very soul. As he cried so bitterly, his tears mixed
with the ashes upon him, and when his chatzos
prayer was over, there appeared what can only be
described as a pile of mud on the ground.
Though his daily schedule was time consuming,
he was still able to speak with and advise many,
many people who came to him. How did he find
the time?
It’s a great paradox. It seems that when you
serve Hashem in that capacity, then you are the
ruler of time rather than time controlling you. You
can then surpass the physical barrier of the time
zone because, in essence, you are tuned in to
Hashem who does not live in time.