On Rosh Chodesh Elul, the Young Israel of Hillcrest was filled with a spirit of inspiration and achdus, as hundreds gathered for a shiur with world-renowned maggid and mohel, Rabbi Paysach Krohn. The event, hosted by Chazaq in partnership with Renewal, All About Kindness, Bat Melech, and TorahAnytime, was dedicated l’ilui nishmas Rachel Aliza bas Ora Nisanov a”h and R’ David ben Istam Nisanov z”l, and for the continued r’fuah of Aviva Bracha bas Ora Nisanov.
The first 150 attendees received a copy of Daily Dose by TorahAnytime, generously sponsored as a z’chus for the Nisanov family. The evening opened with heartfelt t’filah, led by Rabbi Eytan Schnall, Rav of the Young Israel of Hillcrest, and Rabbi Yaniv Meirov, Rav of Congregation Charm Circle, as the community lifted its voice together in prayer for comfort and healing.
The atmosphere was heavy yet hopeful. Tears flowed as the words of t’filah filled the room. At the front sat Rabbi Shlomo Nisanov with his sons, a quiet picture of grief and resilience, as the community embraced them with presence and love.
Before Rabbi Krohn spoke, the crowd turned to Rabbi Shlomo Nisanov, Rav of Kehilat Sephardim of Ahavat Achim in Kew Gardens Hills and founder of its community food pantry. Only two weeks earlier, on August 12, he had lived through every parent’s worst nightmare: A jet ski accident in Florida claimed the life of his 13-year-old daughter, Rachel Aliza a”h, and left her 16-year-old sister, Aviva Bracha, fighting for survival.
Speaking with raw honesty, Rabbi Nisanov described diving into the water, though unable to swim, in a desperate attempt to save both girls. He told how Aviva was floating face-down and unconscious when he reached her. Water was coming from her nose and mouth as she was pulled from the water. Workers from a nearby construction site rushed to help when the designated guide vanished. He managed to lift Aviva onto the dock — while his wife cried out in anguish as CPR was performed on both girls.
The shul was silent, except for muffled sobs, as he continued: “I thought I lost both my daughters. And when I realized only one had survived, I turned to my wife and said, ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t save our other daughter.’”
At the hospital, with doctors racing and family praying, the rav to whom the community turns for guidance begged Hashem to save his daughters. When told that only one had survived, his first thought was not for himself, but for others: “What am I going to tell my mother? What am I going to tell my in-laws?”
Through his tears, he shared the words that came to him at that moment: “Mi k’amcha Yisrael. I am proud to be a Jew, proud to be Bukharian, proud to be part of klal Yisrael.”
Rabbi Nisanov explained that the only time he truly felt alone was the half-hour in the waters of Fort Lauderdale’s Intracoastal Waterway. From the hospital onward, am Yisrael never left their family’s side. People filled the hallways, even at two in the morning, and security waved them through without question. “This was not our family’s shiv’ah,” he said. “This was am Yisrael’s shiv’ah.”
The grief-stricken father described his daughter’s longing for Mashiach – how she would sometimes cry, yearning to see her grandfather, R’ David Nisanov z”l. In a poignant twist of hashgachah, Rachel Aliza a”h now rests beside him in Har HaMenuchos in Yerushalayim. He then reminded the crowd of a lesson from his own father: never to ask why. “The nations of the world ask why,” he stated. “We do not. We continue living.”
Despite his grief, Rabbi Nisanov spoke of the eternity of his daughter’s place in their family. “I always have eight children,” he said. “Rachel biti ha’k’tanah will always be alive with us. I carry her in my pocket, in my heart, wherever I go.”
And yet, amid the anguish, he pointed to miracles. Aviva, who had been pulled unconscious from the water, is now recovering. “I see Hashem’s hand in that miracle.”
The program also highlighted the extraordinary work of Renewal. As Josh Sturm explained, while Jews represent just two percent of the US population, the Orthodox community is responsible for nearly 18 percent of all altruistic kidney donations. “Klal Yisrael is not normal,” Sturm observed. “We are one family – and that’s why we save each other.”
All About Kindness was praised for spreading everyday compassion, and Bat Melech for offering life-saving refuge to Jewish women in crisis. TorahAnytime was thanked for bringing Torah into thousands of homes daily and for giving people a way to carry Elul inspiration forward.
Thankfully, Rabbi Krohn is himself recovering well from a stroke he suffered at a previous Agudah convention, making his presence and message at this event all the more meaningful.
With his trademark warmth and storytelling, Rabbi Krohn turned the evening into a true preparation for Elul. He opened with the pasuk, Aryeh shaag, mi lo yira – a lion’s roar instills awe. Aryeh, he explained, stands for Elul, Rosh HaShanah, Yom Kippur, Hoshana Rabbah.
He shared how his brother once took his children to the Bronx Zoo. When the lion roared, they weren’t afraid, because the lion was in a cage. “But if that lion was free,” Rabbi Krohn said, “every person there would tremble.” He explained: “So, too, if we put Hashem in a cage of our own making, we won’t fear Him. Elul is the time to tear down the cage and let the awe in.”
He spoke of two paths of Elul: for some, echad l’olah, looking back on a good year and climbing higher; for others, echad l’chatas, reviewing mistakes and repairing them. “Elul is both the end of the year and the beginning of a new one – a season of renewal,” he said. “Either way, it is a chance to grow.”
Rabbi Krohn highlighted the midah of Rachel Aliza a”h: vatranus, the ability to let go and not seek revenge. He connected this to the Gemara in Taanis: Rabbi Akiva’s t’filah was answered not because he was greater than Rabbi Eliezer, but because he was a vatran. Rabbi Krohn stressed that just as Hashem overlooked Rabbi Akiva’s shortcomings, so, too, will Hashem overlook ours if we learn to overlook others. “If we want Hashem to overlook our shortcomings on Rosh HaShanah,” he urged, “we must learn to be vatranim.”
The audience listened closely, nodding and whispering “Amein.” When Rabbi Krohn turned to lighter stories – like Hashem providing “a bun for a hot dog, a bagel for lox, a pita for falafel, or a lafa for shawarma” – the laughter that filled the room was a balm for the palpable grief.
Drawing from the Mabit zt”l (Rabbi Moshe ben Yosef di Trani, a leading 16thcentury halachic authority in Tzfas), Rabbi Krohn reminded the crowd that t’shuvah is unique. Even small steps count. “If you improve just one thing, you’ve returned,” he said. He offered practical examples: not talking after n’tilas yadayim, standing with feet together in Sh’moneh Esrei, or not interrupting during Birkas HaTorah or during learning.
He added that the world was created like the letter hei: open at the bottom so one may fall endlessly, but always with a side door open to return. “Hashem designed the world this way because He wants you to come back in,” Rabbi Krohn urged.
Rabbi Krohn closed with a powerful reminder: “The Shabbos table is not for politics, money, or sports. It is for passing on Torah.”
Even the challah cover carries a lesson: if we protect bread from embarrassment, how much more so our children and spouses. “If bread shouldn’t be embarrassed,” Rabbi Krohn asked, “how could you ever embarrass your own child at the Shabbos table?”
He shared the story of Rav Eliyahu Dessler zt”l, who set aside a becher of historic significance – once owned by Rav Yisrael Salanter zt”l and Rav Chaim Ozer zt”l – because his wife felt hurt when he wanted to replace it with a larger one. For decades he deferred to her feelings, only resuming its use after her passing. “That is the power of shalom bayis,” Rabbi Krohn expressed.
As the evening came to a close, the atmosphere in Hillcrest was a mix of tears and resolve, a balance of pain and hope. Many in the audience cried with Rabbi Nisanov’s words and then laughed with Rabbi Krohn’s stories. People left the shul more quietly than they arrived, some arm in arm, others stopping to hug Rabbi Nisanov and his sons.
Rabbi Krohn’s final words lingered: a blessing for a year of life, health, and redemption. “May each of you have a k’sivah v’chasimah tovah,” he said softly, as the community whispered Amein.
From Rabbi Nisanov’s grief and faith to Rabbi Krohn’s call for growth, the evening captured the essence of Elul: a time of brokenness and healing, of grief and renewal, but above all, a time to come home to Hashem, to Torah, and to one another. For the Queens community, the message was deeply personal: Elul is our chance to come home – together.
By Shabsie Saphirstein