יז אלול
רַבֵּינוּ הַזָקֵן הָיָ' בְּעַצְמֹו הַקֹורֵא בַּתֹּורָה.
פַּעֲם אַחַת לֹא הָיָ' בְּלִיָאזְנָא שַׁ"פַּ[1] תָּבֹא, וְשָׁמַע אַדְמוּ"ר[2] הָאֶמְצָעִי - וְהוּא עֹודֶנוּ נַעַר קֹודֶם הַבַּר מִצְוָה - הַקְרִיאָה מֵאַחַר.
הָעַגְמַת נֶפֶשׁ מְהַקְלָלֹות שֶׁבְּתֹּוכָחָה הֵבִיאָתֹו לִכְאֵב לֵב, עַד שֶׁבְּיֹוהַכְּ"פֻּ[3] נִסְתַּפֵּק רַבֵּינוּ הַזָקֵן אִם יוּכַל לְהִתְעַנֹות.
כְּשֶשָאַלוּ אֶת אְַדהָאֶ"מְ[4] הַרֵי בְּכָל שָׁנָה קֹורִים פַּרְשָׁה זוּ, עָנָה: כְּשֶׁאַבָּא קֹורֵא הֶערְט זִיך נִיט קֵיין קְלָלֹות.
יז אלול
This entry in Hayom Yom is for the seventeenth of Elul, יז אלול.
רַבֵּינוּ הַזָקֵן הָיָ' בְּעַצְמֹו הַקֹורֵא בַּתֹּורָה.
The Alter Rebbe himself would be the one to read from the Torah in public. This was not something he delegated to others; he personally took on the responsibility of being the הקורא בתורה—the Torah reader.
This detail is significant because it shows the importance the Alter Rebbe placed on the reading of the Torah. It wasn’t just a technical role, but something he approached with deep seriousness and involvement.
פַּעֲם אַחַת לֹא הָיָ' בְּלִיָאזְנָא שַׁ"פַּ תָּבֹא, וְשָׁמַע אַדְמוּ"ר הָאֶמְצָעִי - וְהוּא עֹודֶנוּ נַעַר קֹודֶם הַבַּר מִצְוָה - הַקְרִיאָה מֵאַחַר.
There was an occasion when the Alter Rebbe was not in Liozna for the Torah reading of Parshas Tavo. That Shabbos, the Mitteler Rebbe—who at that time was still a young boy, not yet bar mitzvah—stood behind and listened to the Torah reading.
This is important to note: even though he was not yet obligated in the mitzvos as an adult, the Mitteler Rebbe was already attentive to the Torah reading, showing his early sensitivity and connection to the words of Torah.
הָעַגְמַת נֶפֶשׁ מְהַקְלָלֹות שֶׁבְּתֹּוכָחָה הֵבִיאָתֹו לִכְאֵב לֵב, עַד שֶׁבְּיֹוהַכְּ"פֻּ נִסְתַּפֵּק רַבֵּינוּ הַזָקֵן אִם יוּכַל לְהִתְעַנֹות.
When the Mitteler Rebbe heard the reading of the קללות—the curses and rebukes—in the section of Tochacha, it caused him tremendous anguish. The pain from hearing these harsh words brought him to such a state of distress that it affected him physically, to the point that on Yom Kippur, the Alter Rebbe was unsure whether his son would be able to fast.
This illustrates the depth of feeling and sensitivity the Mitteler Rebbe had for the words of Torah, especially the sections that speak about negative things happening to the Jewish people. It wasn’t just an intellectual reaction; it was something he felt deeply in his heart, to the extent that it impacted his health.
כְּשֶשָאַלוּ אֶת אְַדהָאֶ"מְ הַרֵי בְּכָל שָׁנָה קֹורִים פַּרְשָׁה זוּ, עָנָה: כְּשֶׁאַבָּא קֹורֵא הֶערְט זִיך נִיט קֵיין קְלָלֹות.
When people asked the Mitteler Rebbe about this—after all, every year we read this same parsha, so why did it affect him so much this time?—he answered: "When my father reads, one does not hear any curses." In other words, when the Alter Rebbe would read the Torah, even the sections of rebuke and curses were heard in a different way. The words did not sound like curses at all.
This teaches us something profound about the power of a tzaddik’s reading of the Torah. The same words, when read by the Alter Rebbe, were transformed. The negative content was not felt; instead, it was as if only blessings were being heard. This is the special quality of a tzaddik, and the effect he has not only on the words themselves but on those who hear them.