The Smile That Saved a Marriage: A Lesson in Compassion from Rabbi Shimshon Pincus

A Missing Smile

A couple from Ofakim once turned to the late Rabbi Shimshon Pincus for guidance. Their home was struggling under the weight of unspoken tension and unresolved issues. As the conversation unfolded, Rabbi Pincus gently asked to speak with the husband privately. Observing him closely, he remarked, “I’ve noticed you rarely smile. Is there a reason?”

The man replied with hesitation. “Yes. My front teeth are broken and unsightly. I’m embarrassed to smile.”

Rabbi Pincus asked whether the condition could be treated. The man confirmed that modern dental procedures could easily restore his teeth and smile. “So why haven’t you done it?” the rabbi asked. The man replied simply: “I can’t afford the cost. The treatment is far too expensive.”

Without hesitation, Rabbi Pincus invited him into the next room and asked for an estimate. When the man named a high figure, the rabbi showed no sign of surprise. He immediately wrote a check for the full amount and handed it to him with one request: “I want you to fix your teeth. To my mind, a large part of your difficulties stem from the fact that you don’t smile. Fix them, and then let’s talk again.”

Indeed, after the man completed the treatment and began to smile again, his home became a happy and peaceful place.

“Others? What Others?” Rabbi Pincus’s Unshakable Empathy

Rabbi Avraham Deitsch added a remarkable follow-up to this story. After this incident, he approached Rabbi Pincus and, knowing the family’s financial struggles, asked: “Rabbi, I know things are tight for you, even when it comes to basic things. How could you give away such a large sum of money to others just like that?”

Rabbi Pincus responded sharply: “Did you say ‘others?' That’s not what I call them! If you don’t feel that another Jew is like your own son, something is missing in your service of God. Let me ask you: If this man’s last name were ‘Pincus,’ would you still question my decision to help him? Would you still come to me with complaints?”

This was the essence of Rabbi Pincus’s greatness: he didn’t see people as “others.” He saw them as family.

Selfless Acts Hidden in the Shadows

Rabbi Pincus lived this deep empathy every day, not only in dramatic moments but also in quiet, hidden acts of love. He once drove daily for two straight weeks to a neonatal unit at Hadassah Hospital to feed a premature infant with his own hands. He offered himself as a “spare husband” on the day before Pesach to comfort a lonely widow whose name he didn’t even know. He made a midnight round trip from Ofakim to Jerusalem without being asked, just to ease the heart of a young Torah scholar suffering from a health crisis.

These weren’t rare exceptions. They were reflections of a life rooted in kindness, humility, and seeing the Divine image in every person.

This article is adapted from the Dirshu website.