Growing Up in a Home of Torah: Rabbi Kanievsky’s Family Life

Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky’s daughter, Rebbetzin Ruth Tzivyon, shares heartfelt memories of her childhood in her book My Mother’s House, giving us a rare glimpse into the home of one of our generation’s greatest Torah sages.

“Our third apartment, at 23 Rashbam Street in the Chazon Ish neighborhood, is where we spent most of our childhood,” she recalls. “It’s the same apartment where Father still lives today.”

She describes the apartment simply: two small rooms. One was her parents’ bedroom. The second—well, that was everything else. It was the living room, the study, and the bedroom for all the children. Six children slept in that single room. With the beds, table, and Father’s shtender (a stand used while studying Torah), there wasn’t much floor space left. A tiny kitchen and a narrow hallway made up the rest of the apartment. Even the hallway was put to good use—by day, it held a small table for studying; by night, it became sleeping space for two more children.

“We all grew up there—Chana, Leah, Avraham Yeshayahu, myself, Shlomo, Bracha, Dina, and Yitzchak Shaul,” the Rebbetzin shares. “And even though it was crowded, it never felt small. The home was full of joy.”

The sounds of her father’s learning still echo in her memory. “Father would sit by his shtender near my bed and review pages of Gemara (Talmud). He would learn after returning from kollel in the evening and again at dawn. Only his voice broke the early morning silence.”

And somehow, in the middle of his intense Torah study, Rabbi Kanievsky was the one who lovingly put his children to bed every night.

“When he returned from kollel, he would find us jumping on the beds in his room—our room,” she remembers. “He made sure we had davened Maariv (the evening prayer), said Shema, and set up the water for negel vasser (morning hand washing). Then he’d hold a raffle to decide who would say the Hamapil blessing first.”

The raffle wasn’t done with tickets, but with Torah. He used the names of tractates from the Mishnah: Berachot, Peah, Demai… until Bikkurim. The child who landed on Bikkurim was the lucky one to say the blessing first. The rest of the children followed in turn.

“After saying the Hamapil blessing, we weren’t allowed to speak anymore—just hand motions and ‘nu nu’ sounds, which we did quite well,” she smiles. “Father would turn off the light and go eat supper with Mother. After we fell asleep, he’d quietly return, turn the light back on—and continue learning.”

He cared deeply about mitzvot (commandments), even those done right after waking up. “Father insisted that we all have negel vasser beside our beds, so we could wash our hands the moment we woke up,” she says. “He even made it into a contest: anyone who remembered for a full month would win a prize. I won a copy of Pe’er HaDor about the Chazon Ish—it had just been published then.”

“Every night, Father would go to sleep at 10:00 PM,” she continues. “And by 2:30 AM, he was back in the book room—our bedroom—to study with his chavruta (study partner). He’d gently move a few of us to his own bed to make room.”

He was very careful about being on time and expected others to be the same. One of his students once shared that Rabbi Kanievsky told him never to miss their Yerushalmi class. “Sometimes a person is meant to get sick,” the Rav explained, “but if he stays completely devoted to Torah learning, even that can change.” That student never missed a class—and he was never sick on the days they learned.

And how did the children wake up each morning? With the sound of Torah.

“Father, wrapped in tallit and tefillin, would sit by our beds reading from the Nevi’im (Prophets) with the traditional melody. The sweet sounds drifted into our dreams. It’s something I still miss deeply.”

As soon as they woke up, the children washed their hands. Since their father was strict not to learn Torah in a room with water present, they quickly removed the bowls and tidied up the room so he could continue learning in peace.

All of this was part of a deeply Torah-centered home. It wasn’t about size or comfort—it was about purpose, love, and connection to Hashem.

From the recommended book My Mother’s House