The Surprising Reason Rabbi Ben Tzion Pelman Danced With His Kids Every Day

Rabbi Ben Tzion Pelman, of blessed memory, raised a flourishing family and devoted himself to Torah study all his life. One prominent philanthropist who greatly respected him came to his home and asked him to give a halacha class between 6:30–7:30 p.m., in exchange for a generous fixed salary.

Rabbi Ben Tzion listened, thought for a few seconds, and replied: "I won’t be able to teach at that time."

"Why?" the philanthropist wondered. Rabbi Pelman rose from his chair and pointed to his children sleeping in the living room: "Do you see the child on the top bunk? I learn with him every day from 6:30–6:50. Do you see the second child on the middle bed? With him I learn every day from 6:50–7:10. And the third? Together we learn from 7:10–7:30. Therefore, I absolutely cannot cancel this important standing time with them. It’s worth more to me than anything else. I’m sorry, but I can’t give the class. If you’d like, I’m happy to give a class at other times."

The philanthropist, a Torah-loving, observant Jew, later described how Rabbi Pelman’s response changed him: "Until that day, I didn’t see any importance in learning with my children. I always thought the Talmud Torah taught them everything they needed. But when I saw how deeply important it was to Rabbi Pelman to learn with his kids, I, too, began learning with each of my children every Shabbat and made a point of keeping to it. During the week I didn’t have time to learn with them because I’m a businessman and our schedules didn’t align. But on Shabbat I dedicated several hours to learning with them, patiently. Thanks to that meeting—when I understood, deep in my soul, that learning Torah together with one’s children is worth much more than money"…

Many positions were offered to Rabbi Pelman, including several offers to head a kollel with an excellent salary. Although he needed a livelihood, he turned down all offers that required travel outside the city. To his study partner, who once witnessed him declining a particular offer, he apologized: "Before anything, I must learn with my children. If I take a position outside the city, I won’t be able to learn with them when they get home from the Talmud Torah. They come before everything."

The Daily Dance

Rabbi Ben Tzion Pelman learned with each of his children, from oldest to youngest, every single day. The measure he set for their level of understanding was whether they enjoyed the learning.

In his view, if a child didn’t enjoy the Gemara, rote recitation meant nothing. If a child fully understood—one hundred percent—the Gemara’s question and answer, Rashi’s explanation, and Tosafot’s challenge, enjoyment would naturally follow. Only when he saw a smile or spark of joy on the child’s face would he say, "Now I see that you know!" Then they ended the session with overflowing happiness.

At the end of learning with each child, their father would stand up and break into a spinning circle dance with the child, hand in hand. Sometimes he placed both hands on the child’s shoulders from behind like a little train, or side by side with a hand on the shoulder. Hundreds of times, the walls of the house saw that daily dance with a child.

Sometimes the children wanted to learn with him just for that sweet dance. Because when the Gemara was properly understood—and truly sweet—the dance that followed tasted like honey cake. A mitzvah dance.

"Abba learned with everyone, every single day," one of his sons relates. "From the son who at that time was already in a large yeshiva to the son who was still in the lower grades of the Talmud Torah. The first would come to Abba at Ponevezh Yeshiva to learn right after Shacharit. The second came to learn in the morning from 8:30–9:00, three more sons studied in the afternoon, and with the rest he learned after Maariv. The little ones, who learned with Abba at home, enjoyed the dance too…"

Because an inner dance flows from the mind or the heart—even after hundreds of dances, the joy with their father felt fresh, sweet, and stirring. It’s a dance they still remember and long for, even fifty years later.

At the Western Wall

Late at night, after midnight, Rabbi Yisrael Pelman was surprised to receive a phone call from his brother, Rabbi Ben Tzion. "Do me a kindness—let’s go up to the Western Wall now." Rabbi Yisrael wondered: "My dear brother, Ben Tzion, what’s going on with you—now, in the middle of the night, to travel to Jerusalem?!"

"Yes, now. I need to go to the Kotel. Do me a kindness—take me to the place from which the Shechinah has never departed." Rabbi Yisrael gladly agreed.

During the drive, Rabbi Ben Tzion was withdrawn, perhaps lost in learning. The car sped along the Geha Highway and entered Highway 1, and then his brother whispered: "Ben Tzion, did something happen?" Rabbi Ben Tzion shook off his thoughts, straightened up, and answered: "About an hour ago I heard that one of the children had a downturn in his learning. So I felt I had to go to the Kotel to pray for him."

"We reached the place from which the Shechinah has never departed at 2:15 a.m., after midnight," Rabbi Yisrael recounts. "At 5:00 a.m., before dawn, Rabbi Ben Tzion was still standing in prayer by the stones of the Wall. He prayed to Hashem and cried like a little child."

"When he finished his supplications before his Creator, I suggested: 'Maybe we should wait here and pray Shacharit vatikin, and then head back to Bnei Brak?' Rabbi Ben Tzion didn’t agree, and we returned to Bnei Brak."

The next day, Rabbi Ben Tzion continued his routine as usual, as if he had slept the whole night. It wasn’t the only time he suddenly traveled to the Western Wall. There were other unexpected moments—toward evening or in the morning—when he rose and went up to Jerusalem. "I have no set schedule to go to the Kotel. But if an issue in a child’s education arises for one of my descendants, I go to pour out my heart," he said. His sister added, "The secret of my brother Rabbi Ben Tzion’s success in educating his children was that he always prayed for them."

How’s My Son Doing in Yeshiva?

"When Rabbi Pelman’s son was studying in yeshiva, Rabbi Pelman often came to check in on him," says a senior teacher who taught Rabbi Pelman’s sons. "He would come in with humility and simplicity, feeling he owed the yeshiva gratitude for helping his son grow and progress. I knew he wasn’t someone with extra time, so I was surprised that he didn’t settle for occasional phone calls to check on his son, but instead took the trouble to travel to the out-of-town yeshiva to inquire in person. It moved me and the staff to make an extra effort for his son—maybe even more than for other students. Moreover, each time he came he handed me an envelope with dollars for the yeshiva. Understand—this ‘wealthy man’ from Bnei Brak, who could barely support himself, felt immense gratitude, which he expressed by giving significant funds to the yeshiva. And if you want to know, the actual wealthy fathers of boys who studied at that time didn’t donate. Why? Because it all depends on what you feel; only someone who truly appreciates—who truly feels gratitude—is the one who gives."

"His behavior gave me the desire and motivation to invest in his son until he became a Torah scholar. For years, Rabbi Ben Tzion continued that friendship. And it wasn’t lip service—you could see he truly felt gratitude, even many years after his son finished his studies there," the teacher continues in amazement.

Rabbi Pelman would go to the Talmud Torah where his sons learned every week to ask how they were doing. He also donated funds to the Talmud Torah so they could invest fully in the boys’ Torah learning. Because when a son sees he is the lifeblood of his father—and that his father is ready to do anything for him—it obligates the son to invest, and it also gives the teaching staff great strength.

Rabbi Shalom Ben Tzion Pelman zt"l (24 Sivan 5694 – 12 Shevat 5775) was a Haredi halachic decisor, the rabbi of the "Nachalat Moshe" community in Bnei Brak, and the author of the halachic series "Shelamei Todah." For wonderful stories about him, Click here.

From the recommended book "Without a Name."