I met Amir 17 years ago in Shul in Englewood. Neither one of us really wanted to be there – he was a fidgety 11 year old sitting next to his father, I was twice his age, but even more uneasy next to my future father in law. We didn’t exactly bond, but over the years our semiannual meetings continued, and we expected to see each other.
Then the venue changed; we were in Efrat. He the post high school student,anxious and expectant – his bright eyes windows to the questions and issues that burned inside. And I, the rookie rebbe, unsure of myself, hoping to answer some of them, hoping to learn from him and his peers more than they would gain from me. And we grew together and found the common ground of talmid and rebbe- the ground we would share for the decade that followed-when we would again meet and talk in Englewood and speak – of Brown, Salt Lake City,Stanford and Efrat.
The last time I saw him was last year at his father’s funeral in Tel Aviv. Surprisingly we had time to talk. I answered a shayla, we reflected on the past, spoke briefly of the future and shared a silent embrace.
A teacher rarely knows what he has taught a student. A talmid can never fathom what impact he has had on his rebbe.
I will miss you, Amir.