Once when the Lubavitcher Rebbe was asked why there were shluchim all over the world, but not at the Kosel, the site visited by millions, he replied: “I have the best shaliach in the world at the Kosel, a man named Reb Meir Schuster.”
On Rosh Chodesh Adar 1980, we moved into our home in Jerusalem’s Old City. I descended to the Western Wall. The tall, lanky, scraggly-bearded R. Schuster was easy to find – the Wall was his home. I introduced myself, saying I was at his service for any assistance he might need. Suddenly, he was gone. I mean literally – gone. He had pivoted on one foot and spun away like a top, speeding off in the direction of the Kosel, with nary a goodbye or an excuse me. I stood in astonishment, my mouth agape, as he swiftly, partly jogging, made a beeline for a young backpacker. Reb Meir engaged him in animated conversation, and then returned my way, the young man in tow. He slowed his stride as he passed, not to apologize or explain, mind you, but merely to mumble matter-of-factly that he was en route to Aish HaTorah.
Once Reb Meir connected with you he was relentless. He was always writing notes in his pad. If he had your phone number he would call you. Repeatedly. If he had your address, he wrote letters, urging you to return to Israel and learn. He was tenacious. Rabbi Eliezer Liff, the long time registrar at Neve Yerushalayim, relates that a former student told him how she repeatedly rejected Reb Meir’s blandishments, until he finally said, “What do I need to do to get you to sit in on some classes?” Sensing an opening to rid herself of the persistent Rabbi Schuster, she replied: “If you give me your black hat I’ll sit in on some classes.” Satisfied that she was done with him for good, she was shocked when Reb Meir quickly doffed his iconic hat and handed it to her. Having concluded a deal, she accompanied Rav Schuster to Neve Yerushalayim where she attended classes. She remained in Neve. More than 20 years later, now married and with a large, Torah observant family, she confided to Rav Liff: “I still have the hat!”
A neighbor of mine, Mordechai R., told me how he had become baal teshuvah. During a year’s stay at an Israeli kibbutz in 1979, he visited the Wall. He was met by Reb Meir, who invited him to a yeshiva. Mordechai expressed interest, but said he had to get back to the kibbutz. At the Kosel two months later, Reb Meir again invited him to attend classes, and again Mordechai told him he would like to but didn’t have the time. When three months later the scenario repeated itself, Reb Meir asked, “Were you really honest when you said at our previous meetings that you’d go to yeshiva but didn’t have the time?“ Mordechai shamefacedly admitted that he hadn’t told the truth. “Why?” Reb Meir asked plaintively. “Why weren’t you honest with me?” he asked. “I knew you wanted very much for me to go to yeshiva,” Mordechai replied, “and I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.” Whereupon Reb Schuster put his head to the Wall, his eyes closed as if praying. “I looked at him,” Mordechai recalls, and thought, “He cares, he really cares about me!” He said to Reb Meir, “I’ll go to the yeshiva with you.” They went to Ohr Sameyach. Mordechai left after 18 months, an observant young man. His life was transformed.
As I said, kiruv was his life, his very essence. Sadly, the Schusters lost their 6-year-old daughter Yocheved Deena Feige (“Shatzy”) in an automobile accident. Reb Meir sent a sh’ailah to Rav Yosef Sholom Elyashiv, “Since I am doing pikuach nefesh, the saving of lives, may I continue taking young Jews to yeshivos and seminaries?” Taken aback, Rav Elyashiv responded that his premise was halachically correct: doing kiruv takes precedence over sitting shiva. However, as no one would understand someone not sitting shivah for his daughter he must fulfill the mitzvah. Deeply moved by the sh’ailah, Rav Elyashiv, although he rarely left his Torah learning, came to be menachem avel the Schuster family. That Shabbos, when mourning was forbidden, Reb Meir went to the Kosel and succeeded in persuading a young man to attend yeshiva.