This article was written by R' Nison Gordon z"l Larry Gordon's father, translated by P. Samuels
In the village of Chilli, in Kazakhstan, where her husband was exiled, there were no Jews to be seen. Once, it was 2 Nissan; her husband exclaimed, “Today is 2 Nissan, the yahrzeit of the Rebbe, N’E . . . I have no one with whom to discuss hassidic thoughts . . . I don’t have with what to write . . . so I have to think . . . and for many long hours he was sitting with closed eyes and thinking, and I was sitting in a corner.”
While speaking of that day, the Rebbetzin’s eyes began showing signs of tears. Perhaps these tears are leftovers from that evening when she sat in a corner of the farmer’s hut and with a broken heart watched her husband, deep in thought, whose mind took him high and far away.
She closed her eyes for a moment, and sat in a pose, deep in thought, as if to illustrate what her husband looked like that 2 Nissan. But at the same moment, she herself was transported back to those tragic yet heroic years. And now, she seems to fly away from Kazakhstan, back to Yekaterinaslav to the visit of her son, when he came to say farewell before leaving for Riga, where his lifelong “companion” was waiting for him, who would accompany him on his significant life mission, which now rests on his shoulders.