ב"ה
Memoirs of Reb Moshe Chaim Cohen
The story of our secret yeshiva is made up of hundreds of small stories, like a puzzle with hundreds of pieces.
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Gavriel taught in the upper grades and his abstention from writing on Shabbos would be obvious to his pupils. Instead, he told them that he wanted to develop their self confidence and speaking skills. Therefore, once a week, he would choose one of them to be the teacher.
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Why was it so important to him that I attend the sheva brachos?
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The young couple did their best
to live an observant Jewish lifestyle, even in this forsaken town.
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Despite the precautionary measures taken, after some time the neighbors noticed too many boys going in and out of the house.
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The Fayzakov brothers' story of how they came to our yeshiva was a striking one, though quite sad.
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He looked uncomfortable and it was clear that he was afraid of the dead.
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When he attends a Bar Mitzvah nowadays, celebrated in beautiful halls, with great pomp and elegance, he cannot help but contrast them to his own Bar Mitzvah.
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I knocked on the door and to my utter surprise, it was opened by my math teacher! I nearly fainted.
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Every year, in honor of Lenin’s birthday, the school, along with the rest of the country, would dedicate the day to volunteer work.
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A school for working youth was different than a regular school. In any other school, the students were afraid of the teachers; over here, the teachers were afraid of the students.
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