Zipporah Roggin-Twersky         צפורה טברסקי - רוגין | |||||
(2009) ז' אייר תשס"ט | |||||
![]() Hannah Roggin (Eisenstein) |
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![]() Rabbi Zeev Wolf Roggin (Rogosnitzky) | |||
1930s New London, Conn with her mother Hanna (standing R) her sister Ester (sitting L) ![]() ![]()   June 1963, NJ, with her sister Ester (R) ![]() |
Daughter of Rav Zeev Wolf Roggin (Rogosnitzky) and Hannah Eisenstein.
Grew up in New London, Connecticut, where her father was Rabbi of Ahavath Chesed Congregation (Orthodox). Moved there at age six with her older sister and parents from Jerusalem, where her family had lived for seven generations since Aliah of the Vilna Gaon's deciples, lead by Hillel Rivlin in 1808. In her highschool years her family moved from New London to New York where Zipporah went to Ramaz Yeshiva highschool and teachers seminar. In her twenties she came back to Israel with her parents, met her husband Yehoshua Twersky in Tel Aviv, where they settled and lived all their lives on Bilu St. Her parents went back to America where her father became a Rabbi in Boston, Massachusetts, and wrote down his Halacha questions and answers in his books Minhat Zeev. Zipporah remembered fondly her early years in Tel Aviv. Shabat in "Little Tel Aviv" had a spirit of Jewish tradition combined with a sense of freedom. But, her warmest memories were of her years in public school in New London. "The teachers were so fair", she said, and her classmates had kind words to write in the yearbook of the sweet girl "with the strange name", Zipporah. נולדה בירושליים בשכונת אבן ישראל. אביה, הרב זאב רוגוזניצקי היה בנו של ראש ישיבת עץ חיים, הרב נחום רוגוזניצקי. אמה חנה היתה בתו של ר' אליהו מרדכי אייזנשטיין שהיה מזכיר מוסדות ועד היישוב היישן ואיש אמונו של הרב ישראל מסלנט גם אביה וגם אימה היו נכדים של בני משפחת ריבלין שהיו תושבי היישוב היישן בירושליים מזה שבעה דורות, מאז עליית תלמידי הגר"א לארץ בשנת 1808 בהנהגת הלל ריבלין בהיותה בת שש עברה עם הוריה ואחותה הגדולה לארצות הברית מאימת הגיוס לצבא הטורקי, שריחפה על אביה עוד מימי מלחמת העולם הראשונה אביה שינה שם את שמו לרוגין והיה רב קהילה בעיר ניו לונדון שבמדינת קונקטיקט את בית הספר היסודי הכללי שבו למדה זכרה תמיד בהערכה בשל האוירה הטובה והיחס הנאור של המורות, אם כי קשרים חברתיים קיימה רק עם בנות למשפחות יהודיות-חרדיות לקראת בית הספר התיכון עברה משפחתה לברוקלין שבניו יורק כדי ליהנות מאפשרויות של חינוך יהודי. למדה בבית המדרש למורות בניו יורק בהנהלת הרב יוסף חיים לוקשטיין, שליד בית ספר רמ"ז בשנת 1935 חזרה ארצה עם הוריה והתגוררה איתם בתל אביב כעבור מספר שנים נישאה ליהושע טברסקי. זמן קצר אחרי כן חזרו הוריה לארה"ב, אחרי שאביה לא מצא כאן תעסוקה לפרנסתו וקיבל משרת רב בעיר בוסטון. שם גם כינס שאלות ותשובות שבהן עסק לספרו "מנחת זאב". אחרי פטירתו ב 1975 קבלה צפורה את אימה לביתה (ובית בעלה) וטפלה בה באהבה החיים בתל אביב הקטנה של שנות ה 30 וה 40 נעמו לה מאוד, עם האיזון שהיה בהם אז בין אוירה יהודית לתחושה של חופש שליטתה בשפות עברית ואנגלית באה לידי שימוש בעבודתה במשרדים שונים בתל אביב. האחרון ביניהם וזכור לטובה היה בארגון בני ברית, בלשכתו של המזכיר הכללי וסגן נשיא אקסקוטיבי, סופר וידיד מוערך, ד"ר יצחק אלפסי אח"כ התמסרה לעבודתה כעקרת הבית היתה טהורת לב, מכבדת ואוהבת כל אדם, אהובה על כל מכריה זכתה לשיבה טובה ומכובדת, אף כי בשלש שנותיה האחרונות ידעה צער עמוק על פטירת בתה הבכורה שלויה ממחלת הסרטן. רבים נהנו לראותה צועדת לאיטה בשדרות רוטשילד, מדי יום עד יומה האחרון כמעט, מקרינה אצילות צנועה, בלווית בנה דוד נפטרה ביום הולדתה אחרי מחלה קצרה Ramaz Yeshiva teacher diploma ![]()
James Madison high school
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  Tel Aviv  
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"We are Seven", William Wordsworth, 1798 | |||||
  June 1963 Boston, with her parents
![]() ![]()   Jan 1973 Boston, with her mother ![]() |
... "Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be?" "How many? Seven in all," she said, And wondering looked at me. "And where are they? I pray you tell." She answered, "Seven are we; And two of us at Conway dwell, And two are gone to sea." "Two of us in the church-yard lie, My sister and my brother; And, in the church-yard cottage, I Dwell near them with my mother." "You say that two at Conway dwell, And two are gone to sea, Yet ye are seven! -- I pray you tell, Sweet Maid, how this may be." Then did the little Maid reply, "Seven boys and girls are we; Two of us in the church-yard lie, Beneath the church-yard tree." "You run about, my little Maid, Your limbs they are alive; If two are in the church-yard laid, Then ye are only five." "Their graves are green, they may be seen," The little Maid replied, "Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, And they are side by side. |
(continued) "My stockings there I often knit, My kerchief there I hem; And there upon the ground I sit, And sing a song to them. "And often after sunset, Sir, When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer, And eat my supper there. "The first that died was sister Jane; In bed she moaning lay, Till God released her of her pain; And then she went away. "So in the churchyard she was laid; And, when the grass was dry, Together round her grave we played, My brother John and I. "And when the ground was white with snow, And I could run and slide, My brother John was forced to go, And he lies by her side." "How many are you then," said I, "If they two are in heaven?" Quick was the little Maid's reply, "O Master! we are seven." "But they are dead; those two are dead! Their spirits are in heaven!" 'Twas throwing words away; for still The little Maid would have her will, And said, "Nay, we are seven!" |
with my sister Shali
![]() ![]() with my sister Shali & her daughter Adi ![]() ![]() with Shali & her children Adi, Ali ![]() | ||
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אמא יקרה ב ז' באייר נולדת, וב ז' אייר החזרת נשמתך לבוראך תמימות היו שנות חייך - ותום של לב טהור נסוך עליהם יפה וזכה היית - עד לכתך - כבת 20 וכבת שבע - כמו שרה אמנו אצילות רוחך, האומץ השקט והצנוע, המסירות ואהבה לילדייך, התחשבות וכבוד לכל אדם - אפיינו אותך כל חייך - ובלטו גם בסוף הדרך, כשקבלת גורלך בשלווה, ברכת אותי ואת נכדייך, והודית לרופאים ולאחיות הימים האחרונים אתך נעמו לי כמו תמיד לא התפניתי לחשוב על האבידה הגדולה שבלכתך הצער עוד יחלחל ויוסיף, אבל יחד אתו תמיד התודה העמוקה שלי על היותך עמנו ההתפעלות מיושר דרכייך, נקיון מחשבותייך כמה רחוקה היית מכל מחשבת זדון ואף הרהור רע וכמה טוב שהגעת לסוף דרכך כמו שבקשת תמיד, בדעה צלולה וללא ייסורים בערב שבת אחרי מות קדושים הסתלקת - קדושים היו כל חייך לפני מותך תמיד היית דורשת טוב לכולם - לא זכור לי שבקשת משהו לעצמך לטובתך האשית רק זאת, ללכת מהעולם הזה בשלווה ובכבוד ובקשה זאת שנתמלאה, גם זו לטובתנו היא לו יכולתי ללמוד יותר ממדותייך צר לי ואני מבקש סליחתך שלא הגשמתי את כל שאיפותייך עבורי מי ייתן ואזכה לממש חלק משאיפות אלה ולהיות ראוי לזכרך ברכותייך הקלו עלי את פרידתך מתוקות היו לי מלותייך שחזרת ואמרת - ברוך תהיה בני ברוך זכרך אימי !     בליבי ובלב כל אוהבייך |
![]() with great grandson Harel     ![]() ![]() 1980's with my sister Shali ![]() ![]() | |||
Nightingale singing | |||||
1976 Tel Aviv, with her mother Hanna ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]()   years, filled with love that any two   people would be blessed to have |
Thirty years ago I heard a sermon by a young rabbi to be, Yoram Zaltzberg, now of Tel Aviv.
It still vibrates in the hearts of some who heard it then. I don't remember the context, but he told a proverb about a nightingale and a crow that made a bet between them, who was the better singer. "Let's wait here in the forest for the first animal to come by, and it will be the judge. Then, the winner will peck out an eye from the other." Soon came a pig and it became the judge. The nightingale began singing first. A hush fell on the forest as all listened in awe to the pure heavenly singing. Then the crow started. To the pig's delight it blasted the forest with squawks and screeches that shook the trees. "There!, now I hear real singing!, Bravo!" shouted the pig. The crow pecked out one of the nightingale's eyes. And the nightingale stood there and cried. Yoram's voice was trembling as he said that, sending shivers through our hearts. Animals gathered in the forest and asked the nightingale "Why are you weeping ? Isn't this what you agreed to ?" "But the judge !" cried the nightingale, "Who is the judge ?!" Zipporah was always loved by all her family members, friends and acquaintances. They adored her sweet personality, her quiet dignity. She started to gain some more recognition in our neighborhood when her mother came from Boston to live with us in Tel Aviv. My grandmother Hannah, ill of health, alone after her husband's passing, came and shared our small three room apartment with my parents. I was away for school most of the time, and soon after that I made my trip to America, where I ended up staying seven years, then another twenty years. My sister had been long married then and had her own family. Bubby Hanna lived with my mother and my father five years till she passed away. She gradually became an icon in the neighborhood. Sweet elderly woman standing in our open front balcony, watching the little affairs on our quiet street. My mother spared no effort to make life easier for her, as best she could. A lady in the grocery store told me, during one of my week long visits which I made twice a year, "Your mother is an extraordinary woman. Watching her taking care of her mother with such devotion is heart worming. She truly is a saint". "Yes, I know" I replied. "I know that all the good things that have been happening to me are because of my mother's merits. I myself do not deserve such good fortune" "Did you hear that ?" the woman said to the other neighbors in the store. "A son talking like this about his mother ?" They seemed moved. And I meant every word of it. Zipporah's merits were not of the sorts that were trumpeted in wide circles. But I, and others who could appreciate a nightingale's singing, knew what a pious, pure hearted, faithful, giving human being she was. Not long before that I was traveling in areas around Washington, DC. I drove alone in a rented car along "skyline drive" in the Blue Ridge Mountains of neighboring Virginia. It was late in the Fall. The winding road had a thin layer of snow. I had not owned a car yet in that part of the world. I had no knowledge of sane driving in such conditions. Even though I was driving at a low speed, at an approaching curve I stepped abruptly on the breaks and the car started skidding. My anxious efforts to stable the car were to no avail. I am in the middle of the curve now and the car keeps sliding towards the railing that separates the road from the valley below. The car hit the railing, then rolled over it. "Imma !, imma !" I cried. Now, I have seen and heard people in moments of stress and deadly danger yelling "Mother!", praying for her help. That was different. My mind was filled with one thought only. Oh mother, how unbearably painful it will be for you after my death!. I had no seat belt. Instead I pressed my hands against the roof of the car to keep myself from being thrown around and bumping my head. The car continued rolling down the creek. In my palms I felt the rocks making dents in the car roof. After two or three rolls the car stopped against some obstacle, or perhaps reached the bottom of the creek. I hastened to turn off the engine, climbed out of the car and up the creek to the road, as fast as I could. I did not have any injuries but minor scratches. Other cars soon came and people said "Praise the Lord!" seeing me on my feet and the twisted car wreck far below. There was not a shadow of a doubt in my mind that I was saved thanks to my mother, to spare her from agony. Then, in another one week visit at home, my grandmother's health was worse. I was able to help my mother a little in her physical efforts to assist her mother. A couple of days later grandma suffered pain and we called an ambulance to take her to the hospital. She groaned and said "From here I should go to Mount Olives", where her husband Rabbi Ze'ev Roggin was buried, and she too had a place. I was with my mother in the hospital when her mother passed away. I was grateful that it happened during my short visit with my mother so I could comfort her a little. I was confident it was another sure sign of the special connection between us. |
with great granddaughter Shalev   ![]() ![]() with great grandsons Elad & Ori   on her last Purim, 2009     ![]() ![]() |
          web page authored by David Twersky   davidtwer@hotmail.com     www.tavron.com |