"Quick, Bring 35 Chocolates!" — The Man Who Thought of Everyone

Just recently, on the 30th of Shevat, Rabbi Yosef Felman z”l of Beit Shemesh passed away. His name was known in hundreds of communities across Israel and around the world, especially after he wrote a deeply moving letter from his sickbed—a letter that shook hearts and changed lives. When journalist Benzi Luzerowitz from Kol Chai radio visited the mourning family, they shared powerful stories about their beloved father and brother—stories the family hopes will elevate his soul. Here are just a few of them.

1. The Letter That Changed the World
Of all the stories, this was the one the family spoke of first. “There’s hardly a synagogue or yeshiva in Israel—or even abroad—where this letter wasn’t posted,” said Yossi’s older brother. “It was translated into multiple languages and traveled to places like Ireland, France, and Mexico. Thousands signed a commitment to refrain from speaking during prayer and Torah reading.” A local rabbi came to the shiva and shared what happened in his own synagogue. After reading the letter aloud to over 200 worshipers, he asked who would commit. Nearly everyone raised a finger. “Since then,” he said in amazement, “the synagogue has been completely quiet during prayers and Torah reading. Incredible what your brother achieved.” During the week of mourning, the family received faxes from all over the world. People wrote: “We accepted to stay silent during prayer—in Yossi’s memory.” Even Rabbi Chaim Kanievsky ztz”l saw the letter and added weighty words from the Shulchan Aruch about speaking in shul, which strengthened people’s resolve even more.

2. Phone Calls at 3:30 AM
One night, while sitting with Yossi in the hospital, his brother Moshe was surprised by an unusual request. “Wake me at 3:30 in the morning,” Yossi said. Thinking he was disoriented, Moshe asked again: “Are you sure? What do you need at that hour?” But Yossi was clear. When woken, he asked for his phone and began calling people—fifteen calls in a row. When asked what he was doing, Yossi explained: “I have a kollel (a Torah study group for married men) that learns before haNetz haChama (sunrise prayer). I call the men to wake them up so they can study before davening.” One of the kollel members who came to comfort the family confirmed: “Yossi called us every single morning for 17 years to wake us for learning. That was his dedication.” Thanks to that kollel, the first haNetz minyan in their neighborhood was established—and continues to this day.

3. Quiet Giving—Week After Week
Another rabbi from Beit Shemesh who came to the shiva shared this: “Every week, your brother cared for dozens of families—making sure they had groceries for Shabbat. To this day, they don’t know who was behind it. This week, when the food doesn’t arrive, they’ll realize for the first time who was helping them.” One of Yossi’s brothers added that a man came to the shiva holding an old electric bill. “Months ago,” he said, “I gave this bill to Yossi. The next day, he returned it with a receipt—it was paid. Since then, every month, he’s paid my electricity bill. After he passed away, I had to pay it myself for the first time.” Another visitor recalled that Yossi once asked him for help buying challahs for families in need. Curious to see what would happen, he followed Yossi. “Not a single challah entered his house. Everything went to others. From then on, I’ve donated 250 challahs each week.” Every Friday morning, Yossi would buy challahs and have his kollel members deliver them discreetly. Families would wake up and find the challahs waiting at their door—never knowing who left them. Quiet giving, from the heart.

4. The Chocolate Emergency
On the eve of Passover, just before the traditional search for chametz, Yossi called his brother with an urgent request. “Drop everything,” he said. “Go to the supermarket near your house and buy 35 packages of chocolate—all kinds. It’s very important.” His brother was surprised. “It’s almost time for bedikat chametz, are you sure?” But Yossi insisted. So his brother did as he asked, bought dozens of chocolate packages, and brought them over. “What was so urgent?” he asked. Yossi explained: “Tomorrow is Pesach. Families here received Kimcha D’Pischa—potatoes, eggs, wine—all the basics. But they have children. They need a bit of joy too. The chocolates are for them.” That was Yossi. He didn’t just give—he gave with heart, with thought, and with a smile.

5. Faith and Humor Until the End
Even in his illness, Yossi’s emunah (faith) and good spirit never left him. A doctor once told him: “Yossi, the illness spread everywhere—except to your humor.” After he received the diagnosis, the hospital sent a psychologist to speak with him. She sat with him for a long time. At the end of the conversation, Yossi gently said: “You’re religious, aren’t you? And yet, through our entire talk, you didn’t mention Hashem even once.” He added, “It’s Sunday now—but just yesterday, on Shabbat, you made Kiddush, declaring your faith in Hashem. And now you’re talking to me about life, pain, and healing—and you leave Hashem out?” The psychologist left shaken. She later told the nurses: “I think I need a psychologist now.” Another time, a visitor came to encourage Yossi, but Yossi turned the tables. “Look around,” he said. “Everyone here is suffering. People are dying. You can breathe? Run and thank Hashem.” Before one of his treatments, Rabbi Binyamin Fisher arranged a meeting with a top medical professor. Before they began, the professor said, “Please turn off all your phones.” Afterwards, Yossi told his family: “You see that? When we meet a human doctor, we’re told to turn off everything. How much more should we be fully present when we come to stand before the true Healer—in prayer.”

Inspired? Here’s One Small Way to Carry Yossi’s Light Forward
If these stories touched your heart, try this small but meaningful step: take on a 40-day commitment to stay silent during prayer and Torah reading in synagogue. It was Yossi’s final request. In his merit—and yours—those prayers will rise higher than ever.