18/06/2026
February 25, 1990. 1:38 PM.
A little child, held securely in his father's arms, is brought before the Rebbe.
A moment. A glance. A blessing.
This photograph hangs behind my computer. Every day, without exaggeration, I look at it dozens of times. Sometimes consciously. Sometimes only out of the corner of my eye.
But it is always there.
A reminder that my connection to the Rebbe is not something I learned about. It is something I was born into.
Tonight marks 32 years since the Rebbes passing.
I was only seven years old when the news spread around the world. Yet I remember it vividly. Chicago. A cloudy, rainy day. The kind of day where everything feels suspended in midair. The adults around me seemed different. The world felt different.
At the time, I understood very little.
Only years later did I begin to understand what everyone was feeling.
The Rebbe's absence is real.
But so is his presence.
As the years pass, I feel both more deeply.
There are people whose influence fades with time. The Rebbe is the opposite. Every year, his vision seems more alive, his message more relevant, and his impact more visible.
Almost ten years ago, Mushkie and I packed our lives into suitcases and moved to Puerto Vallarta.
Why?
Because of a dream.
The Rebbe's dream.
A dream that no Jew should ever feel alone. A dream that in every corner of the world, no matter how distant, no matter how unlikely, there should be a place where a Jew can connect to G-d, Torah, and their heritage.
Puerto Vallarta is one small dot on the map.
Yet because of the Rebbe, Jewish life thrives here.
Friendships were formed here.
Shabbat tables were built here.
Children learned Torah here.
People discovered parts of themselves they never knew existed here.
And, perhaps most amazingly, you and I know each other because of that dream.
Tonight, on the Rebbe's yahrtzeit, we remember that while his physical presence ended, his mission did not.
It lives on in every mitzvah.
In every act of kindness.
In every Jew who takes one more step toward their heritage.
If there is someone you would like me to pray for on this special day, yourself, a family member, or a friend, it would be my privilege.
Send me their Hebrew name and their mother's Hebrew name, and I will take time today to mention them in prayer.
Shneur
P.S. Thirty-two years later, the Rebbe's impact continues to ripple across the world. I'm curious, how has the Rebbe impacted your life? Reply and let me know. I'd genuinely love to hear your story.
