Rebbetzin Chana’s Memoirs: The Funeral

In this 24th installment of the series, Rebbetzin Chana describes the funeral of her husband, Reb Levik, who had succumbed to his illness while still in exile.

The funeral

By morning, our yard was already full of people of all backgrounds—men, women, young and old. My husband had lived there so briefly—less than four months—during part of which time he lay critically ill. Yet, he drew in people so closely that they became deeply devoted to him. To accomplish this, he clearly had to possess special qualities.

It is impossible to describe the exertion of those involved in the tahara purification and funeral preparations, under the prevailing difficult conditions. Naturally, it was the Jews closest to us, from Leningrad, Rostov, and Kharkov, who were most involved in this. By 11:00-12:00, everything was completed, and a large crowd of people set out on the funeral procession.

The cemetery was several kilometers away, all uphill and down dale. My husband’s coffin was carried all the way. Although a horse-drawn wagon followed the procession, none of those carrying the coffin were willing to place the coffin on it, but instead they changed off among themselves all the way to the cemetery.

I didn’t go the cemetery, and I restrained other women from going. I was later told that many people came from Alma-Ata to be present at the burial.

The shiva and the shloshim

Several dozen men returned to our home that evening for the Maariv prayer, which they held in the room where my husband had passed away. That room was also where I sat during the week of shiva.

The plan was to hold all the prayer services there throughout the 30-day shloshim mourning period. But soon enough some strangers began to attend the prayers; no one knew who they were. One in particular, a shoemaker, who worked at a factory, aroused suspicions of being a possible informer.

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