Rabbi Trenk looked for ways to benefit his talmidim, to make life more pleasant for them. A young man in yeshivah came from a divorced home. After he was established in yeshivah and doing nicely, Rabbi Trenk would invite the bachur’s mother to Adelphia for Shabbos, so that she could enjoy her nachas. She would be a guest of the Trenk family, her son joining them for the seudos as well.
Sometimes, it took many years to see the effects of his pure kindness. There was a series of petty thefts in yeshivah, cash and small objects lifted from dormitory rooms during Maariv. The bachurim figured out who the culprit was, and together, they decided to mete out justice on their own. They would storm the dormitory just after Maariv and beat him up, forcing him to return what he had stolen and punishing him severely enough that he would never make the mistake again. Minutes before their plan was to go into effect, Rabbi Trenk heard about it. He quickly summoned all the boys who had been affected by the thefts to his house, and sat them around the table. “You guys will never believe what happened today,” he began. He told the gathered talmidim that one of the finest boys in yeshivah, a bachur they would never suspect or imagine to be capable of such a thing, had come to claim responsibility for the thefts. “Don’t bother thinking of whom it might be, because you will never figure it out, you wouldn’t believe it. When he came to tell me this morning, I was shocked.” He continued in this way for a few minutes, planting doubt in their minds as to the true identity of the culprit. Then, he reached into his pocket and withdrew a large stack of cash, placing it on the table. “This is what he gave me, it includes everything he’s taken, or its value. He doesn’t have the exact cheshbon, but he wants to pay everyone back for what was taken. Each of you lost money, so please take what’s yours and be mochel him, he wants to move on.” The bachurim reclaimed their missing funds, and Rabbi Trenk sent a message to the true perpetrator that it would be best if he didn’t repeat his mistakes. Life went on and the incident was forgotten. The thief, who remained in yeshivah and did beautifully, realized years later that he owed his reputation and success in yeshivah and life to the man who had thought quickly: calling the meeting, conceiving the story, and giving his own money to the cause, putting up the cash for everyone else to get paid back! He had the patience, the words, and the vision to build a bachur.
Sometimes, it meant laying a foundation as well. A new talmid had difficulty following Rabbi Trenk’s ninth-grade shiur. He tried, but he couldn’t grasp the outline of the Gemara. Basic terms and Gemara language seemed beyond him. The young man was determined to succeed, and with the help and encouragement of his rebbi, he felt like he was finally following in one shiur. He felt emboldened enough to actually raise his hand and ask a question. “Yes,” Rebbi called out, “Chaim has a question!” He stood up and walked toward the bachur. Chaim cautiously shared what was bothering him and Rabbi Trenk started to shake. “Wow, wow, wow, Chaim, this isn’t just a question,” he sang, “this is a ‘bombe kushya.’ You must take it to the beis medrash, go to the rosh yeshivah right away and ask him. It’s gevaldig!” “But listen,” Rabbi Trenk leaned forward, coaching his talmid, “when you talk to a gadol baTorah like Reb Naftali Stern, you have to speak in third person, with deference. You walk away facing him. This is a big deal, hatzlachah.” With trepidation, the boy headed to the beis medrash. He stood in the back, waiting for the rosh yeshivah to notice him. Reb Naftali realized that the bachur wanted something and called the boy close. “My rebbi said that I asked a ‘bombe kushya,’ and I should ask it to the rosh yeshivah,” the boy said, all sincerity as he repeated the question. Reb Naftali closed his eyes, contemplating the question, and then started to look into the various sefarim surrounding him. The waiting bachur felt an unfamiliar sensation course through him — pride, excitement, delight; his question had challenged not just his rebbi, but the rosh yeshivah as well. Finally, Reb Naftali suggested that Rashi might have been addressing the question, showing the bachur the words in Rashi that shed light on his problem. The young man went back to shiur bearing an answer — and a new sense of self-worth. In time, his determination and desire paid off, and he became a respected talmid in yeshivah, capable of understanding not just the shiur, but also how elementary that initial question had been, and how, thanks to the silent understanding between two great men, he had been welcomed into the world of the beis medrash.
One summer day, a talmid was visiting a bungalow colony and he met a woman, the mother of a friend. When she heard that he learned in Adelphia, she asked him to send regards to Rabbi Trenk, whom she remembered from Boro Park of old. The new z’man started and the boy came back to yeshivah. He was sitting in shiur on the very first day of the year, weeks after meeting that woman, when he suddenly remembered that he had never passed along the regards. The rebbi normally would not have taken questions, as he was giving the introductory shiur, eager to ensure that the boys grasp each concept. He would have saved the questions until afterward, but he noticed that this boy was indicating with his body language that he had a matter of great urgency to share. “Yes,” Reb Dovid called on him. “Rebbi, Janet Rosenfeld says hello!” he blurted out, regretting it a moment later. After all, it was in the middle of the first shiur, and Rebbi was in the middle of explaining a Rashi! Rabbi Trenk looked at him with unconcealed joy. “Janet Rosenfeld says hello, Janet Rosenfeld says hello.” The rebbi repeated this a few times, as if it were a major breakthrough in the sugya they were learning. “Wonderful, just wonderful. Wow, that’s really great. Janet Rosenfeld says hello.” He was excited because his talmid had spoken, and this was the “vort” he had chosen to share; to Rebbi, that made it worth celebrating. Then Rabbi Trenk continued with the shiur, having transformed an impulsive disruption by a talmid into a moment of perfect building and love. He never saw a bachur as limited by what was in front of him: he saw the past, present, and future. He loved their questions and comments, even questions others would have rejected as disrespectful or confrontational, because he believed in the innate goodness of every bachur.
In a speech to mechanchim, Rabbi Trenk quoted the famous question of the Rebbe Reb Zusha of Anipoli, based on the words of the pasuk regarding shemittah: “V’chi somru, mah nochal bashanah hashevi’is — And if you should say, ‘What will we eat in the seventh year? We will not sow, and we will not gather in our produce!’ Know then, that I will command My blessing for you in the sixth year, and it will yield produce for three years. And you will sow in the eighth year, while still eating from the old crops until the ninth year; until the arrival of its crop, you will eat the old crop.” Why, asked the Rebbe Reb Zusha, did the Torah make the point in a seemingly roundabout way? Why not just say, “I will command an extra measure of berachah in the sixth year, enough for three years.” Why suggest that the people will question and this is the answer? Rabbi Trenk offered his own answer. Imagine, he said, a child who dreams of going to summer camp, and the parents surprise him and register him in the camp of his choice. When he finds out, he begins to cry. “Yes,” he tells the parents, “but what will I eat in camp?” The parents smile and tell him that it’s a childish question. They reassure him that just as they worry about his well-being all year long, they wouldn’t send him to a camp that doesn’t feed the campers, that this is all part of their responsibility. “So if it’s a kinderishe question, why does the Torah quote someone as asking precisely that question?” Rabbi Trenk wondered. He roared out the answer: “Because every single question is holy and deserves an answer — that’s what the Torah is teaching us!”
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