My Grandfather’s Breathtaking Act of Kindness

My grandfather, Benzion Malik, served under four armies and was present for the largest land invasion in human history and the final battle of WWII. He avoided cannibalism under pain of death, survived walking 1,600 miles to his home country of Romania, narrowly avoided lethal poisoning, emigrated to Israel, survived the pummeling of his new community of Haifa during the Six Day War, and finally settled in the U.S. where he served as a chef in Brooklyn for 40 years.

While doing all that, he completed learning the entire Talmud (all 37 tractates and 2,711 pages) a whopping 14 times. He passed away eight years ago at the age of 95.

My grandfather’s survival was highly dependent on three things: luck, decision-making, and acts of lovingkindness.

When Zaidy emerged from the war, ravaged by his privations but with all his principles and honor intact, he went to work paying all the lovingkindness forward.

Later in his life, he practiced his most powerful and inspiring act of lovingkindness. He had finally purchased a house with the money that he had saved after decades of hard work and the first thing he did with his new house was to provide lodging to a desperate family at no cost whatsoever.

Here is his incredible tale of lovingkindness, excerpted from my book, Zaidy’s War.

House on Fire

Avrumi Eisenstein* is in dire straits. His house in Boro Park has burned down to the ground.

It happens on the eve of Sukkot. The saga unfolds when Avrumi remains in the office a bit late so that he can tie up some loose ends before the holiday. He gets a call from his wife, who tells him that the house is on fire. He hurries over, and a nightmare scene is before his eyes.

My grandfather, Benzion Malik

Five of his seven dear children have narrowly escaped the inferno and are relatively well, but one of his daughters is badly burned. She and a sister are in a coma. His wife is distressingly burned as well, and her inhalation injuries are horrific. She, too, is in a coma.

Adding to Avrumi’s stress: his wife and daughters are in separate hospitals. The girls are in Maimonides; his wife is in Lutheran. He does not know when things might take a wrong turn for any of them. He does not know where to be at any given time.

Avrumi and five of his children are now homeless. The Bikkur Cholim organization helps them out for a few nights, then various relatives take in the children for a short time. What Avrumi really needs, however, is permanence. He needs everyone under one safe, familiar roof while he runs around between his comatose family members, and despairs over the looming hospital bills.

He takes a break from his desperate situation and goes for a walk. He needs to breathe. He finds himself on 46th Street, between 12th and 13th Avenues, and happens upon a lot containing three attached houses under construction. He strikes up a conversation with the developer on site, a Mr. Cheskel Solomon, who advises Avrumi that the middle property has already been purchased by a gentleman named Benzion Malik – my grandfather.

Avrumi asks Chezkel for Mr. Malik’s contact information, which Cheskel happily provides, and he wishes Avrumi well, considering his present circumstances.

Courageously, Avrumi cold-calls Zaidy to relate his terrible story, and to ask him if he could be of any help. Maybe his old place is an option? Maybe he might have a place for him in his new house?

Upon completion of the story and request, Zaidy says, “I’m happy to help you out, but I don’t even have finished walls, and I have no electricity running yet!”

“Walls? Electricity? You have a roof, yes? I don’t even have that right now!”

Avrumi says, “Walls? Electricity? You have a roof, yes? I don’t even have that right now!”

This is a good enough argument for Zaidy, and he accepts the entire family, free of charge, agreeing that no rent will be necessary while the family is paying hospital bills. Avrumi does offer to pay at least a nominal stipend, but Zaidy says, “Dee hust den gelt yetzt? Ven dee hust gelt, vellen mir reden.” [You have money now? When you have money, we’ll talk.]

Instead of accepting a single penny from his new tenant, Zaidy hurries up the wall project and runs electricity from a neighbor until he can get these in proper functional order.

Avrumi and the children move in immediately. Zaidy and Bobbi (my grandmother) move into their own apartment two weeks later, when they meet the Eisenstein family for the first time.

Seven months later, things take a positive turn for Avrumi. He receives the insurance money, his wife and daughters recover, and the family’s life is returned to blessed and proper good order.

Avrumi informs Zaidy of his good tidings, and they draw up a lease together. Avrumi asks Zaidy how much he owes him for the seven months that he had a roof over his family’s head, rent-free. The insurance money might be able to cover it all. Zaidy will not even hear Avrumi out. Zaidy tells him that he only needs to pay rent going forward.

Thus a wonderful landlord-tenant relationship begins, with an act of altruism that is, according to Maimonides, the highest of the eight levels of charity (the lowest form: giving a pittance begrudgingly; highest form: extending efforts to help a person get back on their feet).

Now the reader may be wondering how it is that Zaidy thoroughly trusted a total stranger who approached him out of nowhere with a tale of woe, with nothing in his pockets, and a bold request for assistance.

When Zaidy and Avrumi were having their initial discussion, it was discovered that Avrumi’s grandfather, Moshe Leib Hager, was one of Zaidy’s learning partners back in his old home of Romania. Zaidy also remembered Avrumi’s mother from back in the day. Since Zaidy trusted his old friend and learning partner implicitly, he knew he could trust his needful grandson as well.

*Name changed.

You can find Zaidy’s War here: https://www.tinyurl.com/zaidyswar