Holocaust Survivor Puts On Tefillin for the First Time—And Passes Two Months Later

Nothing prepared Yitzchak Gabay, an activist committed to encouraging mitzvot and for eight years engaged in offering tefillin to passersby in the streets of Bat Yam, for his encounter with Dov, a Holocaust survivor. This meeting would later reveal itself to be life-saving for one soul in Israel.

It was a fairly 'normal' day. Gabay, 63, a baal teshuva, married and a father of four, had set up his mitzvah table by the roadside and began offering tefillin to passersby. "Suddenly, an elderly man with a secular appearance stopped near the table," he recalls. "I had just helped three people put on tefillin when I noticed him through the corner of my eye, browsing through the free disks I'd laid out, lingering as if searching for something specific. After I finished, he approached me and asked what I was doing there. I told him I was helping people put on tefillin, of course for free."

"But what do you get out of it?" asked the Holocaust survivor in visible astonishment, and Gabay quickly responded. "I explained to him that it’s a great mitzvah and offered him to put on tefillin himself, but he firmly refused. 'Do you know who I am? I’m a Holocaust survivor, and I’m not into that at all,' he said to me."

Yet Gabay didn’t give up. As bold as a leopard, he made an offer to Dov. "If I’m wrong in my path, at most you’ve wasted five minutes of your life on an act that ‘won’t bring you anything.’ But if I’m right—you, my dear friend, have a problem," he smiled at him as if sharing a secret.

Dov accepted the offer, and for four (!) hours he sat next to Gabay, his ears open to hear the words of Torah and encouragement that flowed like precious pearls from Gabay’s lips.

What did you talk about?

"About life, about the Creator of the World... I told him that I too went through very difficult things and not simple challenges. One of them was at age 26 when I lost both of my parents who passed away at the same time! This ordeal broke me mentally and turned me 180 degrees, and only when I returned to faith and drew close to the Creator of the World, did I gain the strength to handle it positively."

“Suddenly he stood up and said to me: ‘Alright, let’s put on tefillin’”

Gabay’s story about the loss of his parents at a young age struck like a sword in Dov’s heart. Indeed, it was exactly his story, only in different shades. Is it any wonder, then, that he agreed to listen and wanted to know more and more details...? "When I told my personal story, his eyes lit up," says Gabay. "I understood that the words were penetrating his heart and wanted to seize the opportunity to offer him to put on tefillin again, but something stopped me. In the end, I decided it was only fair to let him decide for himself without pressuring him."

Then came the surprise.

"Suddenly he stood up and said to me: 'Alright, let’s put on tefillin.' I was stunned. When we finished, he told me excitedly that before the war, as a birthday gift at age 13, he received a pair of tefillin from his father but never got to put them on. This was his first time performing the mitzvah."

And what happened to those tefillin?

"Bless Hashem, they survived and went through the inferno together with their owner—even though he never used them."

The next morning, Dov showed up at Gabay’s station with a checkbook in hand. "Where do you buy tefillin?" he asked, and Gabay was amazed. "At that moment, I folded the table and closed up shop. We went together to a store for holy items in Tel Giborim and bought him new tefillin. The excitement was huge."

From then on, Dov became as a son to Gabay, and the daily visit to his station became a routine. "Slowly he started changing from end to end and wanted to know more and more about Judaism. Everything I taught him, he ‘devoured’ eagerly. It reminded him of his father’s house and all its traditions, so there was great excitement in him."

Then came another surprise. "One day, Dov came to me with a bag in hand and pulled out the old tefillin pair he had received as a gift from his father. Most of the leather straps were worn and rotten, and at a superficial glance, I was sure they were invalid."

But to everyone’s amazement and against all odds, a more thorough examination confirmed that the tefillin were still good. 'Tired,' yes, just like their owner because of what he went through. 'Lost,' never. Just as Hashem watched over them, He watched over their owner—so he would not lose his faith, and his desire to return to Him once more.

“A person who connects to Hashem once, Hashem doesn’t abandon him”

And one day, amidst the routine of daily visits, Dov disappeared. "I understood that he was hospitalized after feeling unwell and went to visit him there. We talked, laughed, and I was sure he would recover," Gabay recalls. "For a whole month I didn’t know what was happening with him, until I dreamed about him and decided to call and check on him."

The phone was answered, and on the other side of the line was the voice of M, Dov’s wife. "What, you don’t know?" she told Gabay the tragic news. "Yesterday he passed away." It was two months after he was blessed to put on tefillin, through Gabay’s faithful mission.

How did you feel when you heard that?

"On one hand, I felt bad for not being at his funeral and not being able to say goodbye. On the other hand, I was happy that he at least got to put on tefillin and perform mitzvot as much as possible at the end of his life. At least the Jewish spark inside him was rekindled."

Because, ultimately, this was Gabay’s original goal—to bring Jews closer and awaken that spark within them, and even if the fire he kindled in them would be small, it’s better than nothing. After all, his own teshuva process took place a decade ago, at age 53. "It took me many years to wake up," he reflects. "And I received many hardships along the way to understand that there is a Creator to the world and that He wants something from me."

And so, without any prior preparation and hardly knowing why, he decided to put a yarmulke on his head. "It was at a family event, and people were very surprised. Many of them didn’t accept it nicely, but it only strengthened me more," he says.

After the yarmulke came the visits to the synagogue, prayers with a minyan, Shabbat observance, and more. And after he strengthened himself, he realized there was no time and he needed to strengthen other Jews as well. "I used to go to intersections, malls, the beach, and any public place with a lot of people, helping them put on tefillin. After some time, I understood that I wanted to make it an integral part of my life, and I decided to set up a small place of my own in the private parking lot of the building. I made big signs, and from then until today, the place has become a learning center, with 6 pairs of tefillin donated, holy books, a minyan of participants, and Torah lessons.

And you won’t believe it, but for the eight years since the place has been operating (on Neviim Street 34 corner of Kehillat Salonim 4)—there's no one in Bat Yam who doesn’t know it. "People of all kinds and ages come to me. Those who are far from Judaism as east is from west, and those who observe traditions. Some have already become ‘regulars,’ coming every day before or after work. And the fascinating stories keep coming. Each with his own ‘baggage’ and his special connection to the mitzvah."

When I asked him why he thinks he was chosen for this, Gabay responds with modest astonishment. "Anyone can merit this. The mitzvot are laid out for every Jew, and they just need to come and take. Come and agree to listen, be willing to break free from their fixation and learn new things. And I promise you, a person who connects to Hashem once, Hashem doesn’t abandon him. It doesn’t matter which mitzvah you start with—tefillin, Shabbat, kashrut, and others, if you are connected to the Creator, He will give you everything. Just be patient and have faith in Him. Because there is none other than Him."