They had five days left.

So the Jews of that little Polish town gathered in shul and made a decision—one that no one had ever made before, and no one would ever forget. What does it mean to celebrate every Yom Tov—Pesach, Shavuos, Sukkos, Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur—in a single week, on the eve of deportation?

And what does it mean to be joyful, simply for being a Jew… even at the gates of Gehenom?

He was just supposed to deliver a letter.

But when the young Lelover chassid stopped in Pietrekov, something unexpected happened. 

What kind of healing can happen when someone really believes in the words they speak?

Reb Elimelech of Lizhensk saw the third Beis HaMikdash being built. But something didn’t sit right. The chaos, the inefficiency, the crowding. 

So he asked one of the workers why it wasn’t done in a simpler way.

The answer he got made him look at the whole thing differently. What if the most important part of rebuilding isn’t how strong we are, but that we all get to carry something?

Reb Elimelech was fasting—three days without food, without sleep, trying to stop the decree looming over his people.

Then he saw his Rebbe, the Maggid of Mezritch, in a dream. And what the Maggid told him… well, it left him with more questions than answers.

Before Rosh Hashanah, the Kozhnitzer Rebbe gave one quiet instruction: “Wake me at this time.” His shamash woke him ten minutes early.

All year long, the Rebbe kept mentioning those ten minutes. What could really be lost… in just ten minutes?

Some chassidim were unsettled—the new Ishbitzer Rebbe, the Bais Yaakov, wasn’t doing things the way his father had. But when they pressed him, his answer left them thinking.

What does it really mean to follow in someone’s footsteps?

The Kuzmirer thought his Rebbe had exposed his deepest flaws. He fainted from shame.

But when the Chozeh of Lublin told him he wasn’t talking about him, Kuzmir asked: “Wait… there’s someone lower than me?”

Sometimes the holiest leaders are the ones who believe they’re the furthest behind.

Everyone in Teplik lined up, eager to help a widow before Pesach. The Rav handed each man a slip of paper with an address.

What they found inside… made them stop in their tracks.

Some mitzvahs begin closer to home than we think.

Before tasting the holiness of Pesach, you have to know how to bend.

Reb Aharon of Belz said that even to enter a car, you lower your head first. The Alexanderer Rebbe said the mikveh requires the same.

The path to the biggest night of the year starts with the smallest gesture: humility.

At the Seder of the Alexanderer Rebbe, the room would go silent.

Then, every year without fail, he would shout:
“Whoever doesn’t believe that even the lowest Jew can reconnect tonight—is the rasha of the Haggadah.”

On this night of Mochin d’Gadlus, when the gates are wide open… would you dare not believe?