Tzedaka story

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⁠⁠[15:33, 8/17/2017] Rabbi Lipszyc Weekly Story: ⁠⁠⁠Rabbi Lipszyc's Story of the Week Sponsored by his children, in honor of Rabbi Lipszyc's 70th Birthday. A short story, but powerful. One of the projects, in Michigan, that I was involved in, albeit only for a couple of years, was the pushka campaign. This was years before the Rebbe proposed a pushka campaign as part of the 10 Mivtza’im.  The way our campaign worked was that women and girls would call a list of Jewish homes and Jewish owned businesses, (there were 20,000 Jewish families living in Detroit and its Suburbs,) and ask if they would agree to take a pushka into their home and/or business. If they agreed, the pushka would be mailed the same day, addressed to the person spoken to (Mr. or Mrs.) so that they received it within a day or two and would remember receiving the call and agreeing to have one sent.  A rabbi would personally come, three times a year, to empty the pushka. We would call beforehand informing them of which day the rabbi would be coming. This would assure us that someone would be home. It had also an added benefit, that when we called, those who realized that they hadn’t been putting anything in, on a regular basis, would often put in a $10 or $20 dollar bill. No minimum amount was expected, whatever was in it, was accepted with a warm smile and with a thank you of appreciation.  While emptying and counting the contents of the pushka, the rabbi would speak to the family member about mezuza, tefillin, Shabbos candle-lighting, a word from the Torah portion of the week, or answer any questions about Judaism they may have had. This had a very powerful effect. None of these people viewed the rabbi as merely “a pushka collector” but rather as a “personal rabbi” who does “house calls” three times a year. Many of these people built up more of a rapport with this rabbi than they had with their own synagogue rabbi. If they had a question about Judaism, this was the address they turned to.  Rabbi Yitzchok Mann, was the main rabbi of this project and stuck with it throughout the years. It was an opening into all the Jewish homes. In fact we had built it up to 3,000 active pushkas out at any given time. That means that 15% of Jewish homes in the community had an active pushka, while many more knew about Chabad and were somehow positively affected. It also gave us an automatic “in” whenever there was a specific message that the Rebbe wanted us to spread. Over the years, the mivtza’im that were accomplished, including homes koshered, bayis molei seforim, etc. etc. probably could not be matched by any other Chabad center in the world.  An anectdote that made a most powerful impression on me: There was one family who lived in an outlying suburb, which was somewhat out of the way of my regular route. One time I happened to be passing close by and decided to stop by unannounced to empty their pushka. When the woman of the house opened the door she was visibly upset that I hadn’t called first. I apologized and explained that I happened to be in the vicinity in any case, so I figured I would take a chance and see if she was home. She then explained why she was upset. Unbeknownst to me, whenever I called to tell her when I would be coming, she would gather her young children together and excitedly tell them that “the rabbi is coming!” They would all dress up in their “Shabbos clothes” and anxiously await my arrival. Of course when I heard that, I refused her offer for me to come in and empty the pushka then and there, and instead made an appointment for my return within the week. I don’t think that I ever enjoyed making “an out of the way” pickup, as much as I did that time. And from then on, I always made sure to call first. As an aside, it was also financially lucrative. The average pushka had $15 per pick up (three times per year = $45) which brought in about $135,000 a year in donations, and this was in the early ‘70’s.  Just to add a humorous story as well. One of the homes that had a pushka was this obviously not yet Torah observant fellow who had a large dog whom he named Kelev. When I came to pick up his pushka, he said, with obvious pride that his dog kept kosher and he wanted to show me. He took a pear and he cut off a piece and said, “Here Kelev, this is kosher.” The dog jumped and gobbled it up. He cut another piece, again with the statement that it’s kosher, and sure enough the dog ate it. He cut another piece and said, “Kelev, this is not kosher.” The dog did not jump for it. He tried pushing the piece of pear into the dog’s mouth, but the dog kept her mouth shut and turned her head away. He tried getting the dog to eat it, despite his telling her that it was not kosher, but the dog continuously refused to eat it. Then he said, “Kelev, it is kosher.” The dog still refused to eat it. “Really, it is kosher,” he assured the dog. The dog still refused to eat it. He then turned to me and said, “Rabbi, tell him it is kosher.” I, of course played along and said, “it is kosher.” Sure enough, the dog immediately jumped for it. I looked at the dog’s owner and laughingly said, “Wow, now if we can just train you to do the same!” J To receive Rabbi Lipszyc's Story of the week via Whatsapp add the number 513-456-7595 to your phone contacts, and then send a text to with the message "Join".  Support Rabbi Lipszyc's work by Donating at https://chabadcrimeaorg.clhosting.org/templates/articlecco_cdo/aid/2511910/jewish/Crisis-Relief/lang/en or sending checks to: Chabad of Crimea World Friends, 1601 Union St, Brooklyn, NY 11213