Rav Avrohom Aronovitch was a special man; he was a teacher of Torah and a lover of Jews.
He was the first person in town to ensure we all observed the Mitzvah of not wearing Shatnez.
He was a wonderful father and husband to his family.
Yet, to me, he was my friend.
Rav Avrohom had a unique trait: a gigantic "Ayin Tova" (looking at things from a positive perspective).
If he heard something about someone less than complimentary, he would always put a positive spin on it.
His smile lit up the world.
Rav Avrohom always had a smile on his face.
When I would visit him towards the end of his life when he was already confined to his bed, he always greeted me with a smile.
He not only talked the talk, but he also walked the walk, literally.
He cared about the reputation of the Jewish people.
When he walked home from Shul alone or with his sons and came to the corner of Van Houten and Pennigton, he would never cross the street until the light turned green.
Everyone crosses the street, even if the light is red; as you can clearly see, all down Pennington is in both directions, and if there are no cars in sight, everyone crosses the street.
It's a small local street- why wait for the green?
Yet Rav Avrohom would not cross until the light changed green.
When his sons asked him why- after all, there was no danger, he replied, "True; however, perhaps a non-Jew would see them and think Jews are not law-abiding citizens."
When I walk down Van Houten, I think of Rav Avrohom.
When I reach the corner, I remind myself, "Rabbi Aronovitch would wait until the light turns green. I should wait, too."
Before Covid arrived, at the last Mincha In the summer, which could have almost one hundred attendees, over ninety percent would leave and not remain for the Shiur between Mincha and Maariv. (Unfortunately, that Shiur has remained a victim of long Covid and has never restarted.)
There is nothing wrong with such conduct; there are many Maariv minyanim for people to daven later in the evening.
Yet, If Rabbi Aronovitch was at the last Mincha, he would always stay for the Shiur even when he was not planning to daven Maariv at that first Maariv.
Rather, although he was only going to daven later in the night- he would stay just for the Shiur to show Kavod (respect) to me.
He would sit down, listen, and participate in the Shiur.
He was a giant in Midos Tovos.
He constantly found the good in people and never let life's challenges depress him.
He rarely spoke about the challenges of his final illness. Yet, one time, he confided in me the following.
When he traveled by subway to Sloan Kettering for treatments, a long escalator brought people from the subway platform to the street level.
There must have been one hundred electronic steps from the subway platform to the street level, and therefore, Rav Aronovitch, in his weakened state- relied on the escalator.
One day, the escalator was not working.
He looked up at the mountain of steps before him and could not imagine how he could reach the top.
Yet, given that he had no choice, he put his head down and began to climb one step at a time.
When he finally reached the top, he turned around and could not believe he scaled the mountain.
This story encapsulates the life of Rav Avrohom ZT" L.
Indeed, Rav Avrohom scaled the mountain of life.
He took each day, each hour, and each minute to climb just one more step.
And by the end of his life, he had succeeded in climbing a mountain.
Yehi Zichro Baruch.
May his memory be a blessing.
Rabbi Eisenman
