Rav Mattisyahu Salomon had thousands of talmidim, but his compassion made every interaction personal

Photos: ArtScroll Mesorah, Bernstein Studios, Shalom Photography

Between Gateshead and Lakewood, Rav Mattisyahu Salomon was ‘The Mashgiach’ to thousands of talmidim. But while he was renowned for his shiurim, vaadim, and shmuessen, it was his deep compassion and unadulterated ahavas Yisrael that shone through

From the moment I unboxed my review copy of ArtScroll’s Rav Mattisyahu, I realized that Avrohom Birnbaum’s year-and-a-half-long labor of love wasn’t exactly what I was expecting. To my surprise, the cover didn’t feature any of the standard biography terms like “life,” or “legacy.” Instead, the subtitle of the book, “The warmth and greatness of Rav Mattisyahu Salomon, beloved Mashgiach who inspired generations,” underscored that the words I was about to read would paint a vivid, full-color picture of a gadol whose compassion and depth touched the souls of countless individuals in numerous ways.

The first 200+ pages of the book reinforced my initial perceptions. Instead of starting off describing the Mashgiach’s childhood, the details of his education, and his rise to greatness in the Olam HaTorah, Reb Avrohom regales the reader with stories demonstrating how Rav Mattisyahu invested valuable time and considerable effort to understand the plight of others, putting himself in their shoes and imbuing those around him with his legendary passion for Torah and his tremendous love for HaKadosh Baruch Hu. The many photographs of Rav Mattisyahu sprinkled throughout the book add yet another dimension to the deeply nuanced portrait of the Mashgiach that emerges page by page. His smile and his quiet dignity, his reverence for all things Torah-related, and his unparalleled ahavas Yisrael shine through on each one.

It happened at the shivah of Rav Mattisyahu. A young man came in, looking visibly broken. The sense of loss was written all over his face. He shared his story of the Mashgiach with the family.

When I was a child, I attended a certain summer camp. I loved it and wanted to go back to the same camp the next year. My mother, however, felt very strongly that a different camp would be better for me. I refused!

Since I didn’t have a father, my mother suggested that I talk it over with the Mashgiach. It was in the middle of the winter, during camp application season, when I went to the Mashgiach. The Mashgiach sided with my mother, trying his best to explain my mother’s reasoning to me. I had a hard time understanding what he was telling me and wasn’t very receptive.

Nevertheless, the Mashgiach did convince me to listen to my mother, even if I didn’t understand.

Five months later, the day I was leaving for camp had arrived. Everything was ready. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Someone was standing there asking for me.

When I can to the door, he handed me a gift-wrapped present. I opened the gift to find a siddur with a beautiful handwritten inscription from the Mashgiach wishing me success in camp. I couldn’t believe it!

Throughout the five months that had passed, the Mashgiach remembered that I had made a sacrifice. Despite the passage of time, he remembered to reward me just as camp was beginning, so he could infuse me with a good feeling before I went to camp.